Editing Ayla

'''March 4, 2052'''

Dear Diary,

It’s another day in my little bubble; my room, my classroom, my everything. I’m starting to forget what the outside world used to look like. I mean, I know what it looks like in VR, perfectly rendered streets, sunsets, and parks, but that’s not the same, is it? I think I remember grass feeling soft under my feet and how sunlight warmed my skin, but those memories are fuzzy, like trying to recall a dream after waking up.

Today started like any other. “Good morning, Ayla,” my AI assistant woke me up, followed by today’s forecast: “heavy delivery activity in your area, moderate-high pollution levels, optimal conditions for staying indoors.” Not that I needed the reminder. I haven’t been outside in years, and honestly, I’m not sure if I’d even know what to do out there—My thoughts were interrupted by a blaring alarm going off… it was my glucose monitor. “Your blood sugar levels are below threshold! Please proceed to have your morning meal.” It’s kind of weird that my monitor feels more attentive than most people I know. Not that I know many people outside my digital study groups…

School was the usual blur of the same endless cycle of modules and automated assessments. The AI teachers don’t care if I’m tired or distracted; they just push me to complete the next task. By the time I reached my math module, my concentration started to waver. “Please refocus, Ayla,” it chimed whenever I paused too long. There’s no room for zoning out when the system tracks every second you spend looking away from the screen. I pushed through, solving equations with half my attention while doodling on my tablet with the other half. It’s like my whole life is under a microscope, every moment measured, categorised, and evaluated. But the system says I’m performing in the 90th percentile nationally, so that's good, I guess. 

Today’s History lesson was a VR simulation of ancient Rome. My avatar wandered through the forum while an automated voice lectured about social hierarchy and artefacts. It should’ve been fascinating, but without anyone to share it with, it felt... lonely. I don’t know… I guess I think education isn’t just about information; it’s about connection, too?  

So, I joined a social simulation event called “FriendSpace.” It’s where teens can hang out in virtual cafés or parks. My avatar looks nothing like me; no glucose monitor, she’s confident and carefree, the kind of girl who doesn’t have to pause a conversation to check her blood sugar. I earned a “Social Butterfly” badge for spending two hours online. YAY for me! It sucks that the conversations felt really scripted like I don’t think there was never even a hint of awkwardness. I’d love to have a best friend who knows the real me, the one who doesn’t have to hide behind an avatar or worry about earning social points. But how do you really build that kind of bond in a world where everyone’s just a username and a profile picture?

Sometimes, I wonder if this is what life is supposed to be. Mom said we’re lucky to live in such a “convenient” time. She always reminds me how hard it was for her as a kid during the COVID-19 pandemic. Schools shutting down, people losing their jobs, and so much panic. She says we’ve built a better world, one where technology takes care of everything. I’m not too sure about that though. I miss connection… not the kind you can measure in Mbps, but the real kind. The kind where you laugh so hard your stomach hurts or cry on someone’s shoulder because they get it. 

My world is so controlled, so predictable. Even my diabetes care is automated. My monitor adjusts my pump, sends updates to my doctor, and alerts me if anything’s off. It’s amazing, I guess, but it also makes me feel like a fifth wheel in my own life. 

Speaking of, I had a health and wellness session today, too. My fitness program involved a VR hike through the Rocky Mountains. It’s one of the more scenic options, with towering mountains and crystal-clear rivers. I hiked along a trail, stepping in place while my VR headset simulated the terrain. I was hoping to unlock the “Peak Performance” badge today, but apparently, I didn’t keep a steady enough rhythm. I almost laughed at how disappointed I felt… it’s funny how even exercise feels like a game now.

After dinner, I had some free time. I thought about logging into FriendSpace again but wasn’t in the mood for more shallow conversations. Instead, I pulled out my tablet and started drawing. I worked on a cityscape this time, though not one I’ve ever seen in real life. It was my version of what the world might look like if people still gathered in public spaces. I sketched bustling streets with market stalls, and couples laughing over cups of coffee at sidewalk cafés. It’s not great art… my perspective is all off, and the shading could use work… but it’s one of the few things that feels like it’s mine. No algorithms, no scores, no badges. Just me and my imagination.
Before bed, I did my usual check-in with the health dashboard. My glucose levels were stable, my activity levels were “adequate,” and my sleep forecast was marked as optimal. The system congratulated me on maintaining my routines and awarded me a “Health Consistency” badge. I rolled my eyes, but I’ll admit it feels good to see the little green checkmarks lighting up my profile.
Still, I wonder if there’s more to life than this endless cycle of tasks, rankings, and badges. Don’t get me wrong… I know I’m lucky in a lot of ways. I have access to the best tech, my health is under control. But I’m still trying to make sense of a world that’s so polished, so perfect, and yet so profoundly lonely. Maybe tomorrow will be different. Maybe I’ll log off for a while, turn off my window, and let the real world in… just a little.

Goodnight.