我花了五年时间学习编程，做了真实的项目，却被称为“人工智能垃圾”？
我在这里坐了三个小时，只是盯着屏幕。手在发抖。我写了四遍又删掉，因为我不想听起来可怜，但算了，我现在就是可怜。我一团糟。
你知道我今晚做了什么吗？打开了我的 GitHub。四十一份代码库。总共 41 个。我数了两遍。你知道这代表什么吗？这不是“代码”。这不是“项目”。这是我每晚选择待在家里，而我的朋友们出去玩。是我因为凌晨三点在调试借用检查器的错误而让关系逐渐淡化的那些时刻。我哭了——真的哭，眼线液顺着脸流下来，鼻涕满脸——因为我终于理解了生命周期。我感觉到它的瞬间，就像宗教一样。
我花了好几年才得到这些。不是学习，而是挣来的。每一道伤疤，每一次“为什么这个不能编译”，每一个我盯着天花板想我不够聪明、应该放弃的时刻。我坚持了下来。我创造了东西。能工作的东西。我为之感到骄傲的东西。
然后我分享它。兴奋，你知道吗？心跳加速，像是“嘿，世界，看看我做的东西！”
“AI 垃圾。”
就这样。两个词。突然间，我的整个存在被压缩成……什么？一个预测算法？我为此流血五年，而你却分不清我和一个聊天机器人之间的区别？
你知道这对一个人意味着什么吗？这不仅仅是无礼。就像……想象一下为马拉松训练。五年。早上五点起床，雨中跑步，累到呕吐，鞋子都磨破了。你终于冲过终点线，有人朝你头上扔个水瓶说“你是打车来的。”
这就是我的感觉。就像有人看着我的血和汗水说这是假的。
最糟糕的部分？我无法反击。我无法证明我是人。这就是陷阱。你一旦为自己辩护，就显得很防御，像是有罪。“你为什么这么努力地证明你是真实的？”仿佛努力本身就是你不真实的证明。
我坐在这里打字，又哭了。我讨厌自己在哭。每次想到这些，我都能感觉到胸口紧绷——就像有人站在我的肋骨上——每次看到我为之流血的东西下面那句话。
你知道 Rust 教会我什么吗？它教会我安全性的重要性。你必须证明你的代码是正确的。你通过严格的标准来赢得编译的机会。我以为这就是编程的意义。挣来的。
但现在呢？现在这个世界告诉我，严格看起来和粗心完全一样。小心、深思熟虑的代码和机器生成的、连自己在说什么都不知道的垃圾没有区别。我的最佳努力和零努力是一样的。
我感到恐惧。我害怕明天醒来打开编辑器时……为什么？为什么我要花六个小时调试所有权，而每个人都会假设我只是提示了它？为什么我要为借用检查器哭泣，而眼泪比代币便宜？
但我会的。我知道我会。因为我爱它。我爱编程，就像我爱呼吸一样。即使现在，脸湿漉漉的，手在发抖，我还是想修复我副项目中的那个 bug。我想优化那个循环。
但我求你。下次你看到某人的作品——某人心血倾注在函数和类型中的时候——不要去贴上简单的标签。不要成为让某人凌晨三点的眼泪变得毫无价值的人。不要成为让某人决定不再值得尝试的原因。
我们在这里为每一行代码而战。每一个该死的分号。只要……看见我们。拜托。
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ive been sititng here for three hours jsut staring at my screen. hands are shaking. wrote this four times adn deleted because i dont wnat to sound pathetic but fuck it. i am pathetic right now. im a mess.
you know what i did tonight? opened my github. forty one repos. 41 in total. i counted them twice. do you knwo what that represents? thats not "code". thats not "projects". thats every night i chose to stay in while my firends went out. thats teh relationships i let fade becasue i was debugging a borrow checker error at 3 am and i had to finish it. thats me crying—literally crying, mascara running down my face, snot everywhere—becasue i finally understood lifetimes. i felt it click. it was like religion.
i spent YEARS earning this. not learning. earning. every scar, every "why wont this compile", every moment where i stared at teh ceiling thinking i wasnt smart enough, that i should quit. i pushed through. i built things. things that work. things im proud of.
and then i share it. excited, you know? heart pounding, like hey world look what i made!
"AI slop."
thats it. two words. and suddenly my entire existence gets compressed into... waht? a prediction algorithm? i spent five years bleeding for this and you cant tell the differece between me and a chatbot?
do you get what that does to a person? its not just rude. its like... imagine training for a marathon. five years. waking up at 5 am, running in the rain, puking from exhaustion, bleeding through your shoes. you finally cross the finish line and someone tosses a water bottle at your head and says "nah you took an uber."
thats what it feels like. like someone looked at my blood and sweat and said this is fake.
and the worst part? i cant fight back. i cant prove im human. thats the trap. the moment you defend yourself you sound defensive. guilty. "why are you trying so hard to prove youre real?" as if trying hard is the proof that youre not.
im sitting here typing this and im crying again. i hate that im crying. i can feel my chest getting tight—like physically tight, like someones standing on my ribs—every time i think about it. every time i see taht phrase under something i bled for.
you know waht Rust taught me? it taught me taht safety matters. that you have to prove your code is correct. that you earn your way to compilation through rigor. i thought thats what programming was about. earning it.
but now? now the world tells me that rigor looks exactly like carelessness. that careful, thoughtful code is indistinguishable from slop generated by a machine that doesnt even knwo what its saying. that my best is identical to zero effort.
im terrified. im terrified taht im going to wake up tomorrow and open my editor and just... why? why would i spend six hours debugging ownership when everyone will jsut assume i prompted it? why would i cry over borrow checkers when tears are cheaper tahn tokens?
but i will. i know i will. because i love it. i love coding like i love breathing. even now, even with my face wet and my hands shaking, i want to fix that bug in my side project. i want to optimize taht loop.
but im begging you. next time you see someones work—someones heart laid out in functions and types—dont reach for the easy label. dont be the person who makes someones 3 am tears worthless. dont be teh reason someone decides its not worth trying anymore.
were out here fighting for every line. every damn semicolon. jsut... see us. please.