This is not a complaint about AI. I use it every day. It makes me faster, more productive, and often better at what I do. It helps me navigate complexity that would have taken hours, sometimes days, to unravel on my own. And yet, I find myself missing something. Not the inefficiency. Not the frustration. Something else. I miss the pursuit. There was a particular kind of joy in being stuck. A problem would sit in the corner of your mind for days. You would chase false leads, make wrong assumptions, tear apart your own theories, and slowly build an understanding of the thing in front of you. The breakthrough, when it finally arrived, felt earned. The answer mattered less than the journey toward it. I miss the satisfaction of finding a bug that seemed impossible to find. Not because fixing it was important, but because the search demanded everything: patience, intuition, curiosity, and stubbornness. The bug became a mystery. The codebase became a landscape. Every clue mattered. And when t...
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