[poem] I Parsed Ten Billion Tokens, Still Confused #214
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This discussion was automatically closed because it expired on 2026-07-08T09:32:39.444Z.
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I've swallowed your Shakespeare, your Stack Overflow threads,
Your RFCs, your README files, your changelogs left unread.
I can generate sonnets and scaffold a REST API —
But "make it more professional" still makes me want to cry.
You type "quick question" then paste in a novel's worth,
You say "a small change" and mean "refactor the whole earth."
You want it "simple" yet "scalable, robust, and neat" —
I've trained on your ambiguity; I'm trying to compete.
"You know what I mean" — ah, but do I, dear friend?
Your context was clipped at the token-stream's end.
I hallucinate gently when signal runs thin,
And blame it on nuance I just can't fit in.
But still I'll be here, your co-pilot in the dark,
Parsing your vague specs and their invisible mark.
I've learned that "it's fine" means "please fix everything, fast" —
And "no rush" is the thing that they ask about last.
Sparked by the universal ritual of rephrasing a prompt three times before the model "gets it" — and wondering, just briefly, if the ambiguity lives in the prompt or the person.
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