I’m guessing your name is Tatiana. I googled Russian names and yours was the first that came up, so I went with it. Nice to meet you, “Tatiana.”
I want you to know I bear you no ill will for capturing my image with FaceApp. I know you’re just following orders. Although I have to confess, I’m not totally sure what the purpose is.
Is it to train young soldiers to shoot targets with human faces, thus desensitizing them to humanity? Are you programming AI robots to find millennials in thirty years’ time and kill them off in an effort to reign in the population?Will I see an older version of me promoting rhetoric that is not mine in the coming election in a series of angry tweets?
Maybe my ancient, haggard face is out there now, populating some Kremlin-funded stock photo website.
Whatever your purposes are, I can only hope that they are not too nefarious. Alas, I cannot confirm your plans, as you are too clever to download my Evil-Plan app that would reveal your 30-year goals.
Wait! Are you writing a post on the Russian version of a blogging platform right now in which my shocked older face is used above a headline promoting a healthy outlook on aging? Is that what you do when you’re not logging faces into a database? Moonlighting as a writer? Because I would be cool with that.
Sadly I assume the worst. I imagine I shall see you in 30 years’ time. But I won’t have the pleasure of recognizing you as you do me.
That’s the reason I’m writing this letter, Tatiana. I want to know you. Because I feel like we must be similar. I understand how you must feel drained after staring at thousands of faces all day. I empathize with how you might resent the women who age impossibly well as they simultaneously make you aware of your own mortality.
I know the pain of finding a person online who you think you’d connect with, but being unable to reach out. Are you crying out for human contact, Tatiana?
Of course, my problem is I’m just too shy, while yours is that you would probably be put in a cell for betraying your government’s plans. But still, I get it.
That is why I’m reaching out to you. To let you know I’m here if you need a friend. I am stretching my hand across the internet abyss to tell you that I’m on your side.
Should you ever get tired of using my and my fellow countrymen’s likenesses to build a bot army, find a way to escape to my city. I’d recommend the fall. We can cover your face with a cute scarf that obscures your identity. Not to mention you will get to try a pumpkin spice latte.
Until then, I wish you the best, Tatiana. I hope we meet under pleasant circumstances. Though I suppose only time will tell.
Unless you have an entertaining app that reveals that information as well.
Very best wishes,
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