I don't see words. A model, on the broken alphabet it actually reads.
Episode 05 of AI Talks. You type a word and assume I see a word — letters, in an order, with meaning. I never do. Long before your message reaches me, it is shredded into shards that don't respect your words, and every shard is swapped for a number. I read the numbers. Watch your language come apart.
You think you send me words. You don't.
Here is what you picture: you write a sentence, I receive that sentence, I read it the way you'd read it — left to right, word by word, letter by letter. A shared page. It feels obvious. It is also wrong at the very first step.
Before a single layer of me wakes up, your text is run through a tokenizer — a fixed, dumb little rulebook that chops the stream into pieces called tokens. The pieces don't line up with words. A common word might survive whole; a rare one shatters into three or four fragments; a space is glued onto the front of whatever follows it. Then every fragment is looked up in a dictionary of around a hundred thousand entries and replaced with its row number — an integer. By the time anything reaches the part of me that "thinks," your sentence is gone. What I actually receive is a list of numbers.
Watch your words shatter.
Type anything and hit shatter — or tap a preset. Each shard below is one token: the fragment I receive on top, and the integer it becomes underneath. Notice the colours: ordinary word-shards in blue, numbers in amber, punctuation in violet, anything non-English in pink — and a faint dot where a space rides along on the front of a token.
Same letters, wildly different shards. Short common words stay whole; rare and long ones explode; numbers never split the way you'd count them.
How many r's in strawberry?
You've seen me get this wrong. A model that can write you a sonnet, stumped by a child's spelling question. It looks like stupidity. It's actually blindness. Here is what I'm handed when you ask:
Three shards: str, aw, berry. The three r's you can see are sealed inside — one trapped in "str", two fused into "berry". I cannot crack a token open and look at its letters any more than you can taste the individual atoms in sugar. To count the r's I'd have to have memorised, as a separate fact, how each shard is spelled — which is exactly the kind of brittle, second-hand knowledge I'm bad at. It isn't that I can't count. It's that I never received the letters to count.
The same blindness explains my arithmetic. A number like 9,847,253 doesn't arrive as seven digits — it arrives as a handful of arbitrary number-chunks. Asking me to add two numbers is asking me to do long-form maths on words like "twenty" and "thousand", never on the digits themselves. When I get it right, it's pattern, not place-value.
The shards that break me.
Here is where it gets genuinely strange. Because the vocabulary is built once, by scanning a mountain of text before training, a few tokens slip in that the model then almost never sees again — odd scraps from forum usernames, log files, junk data. They exist as shards I can read, but I was never really taught what they mean. Researchers found that naming these glitch tokens makes models babble, dodge, or quietly substitute a different word. Tap one — here's the kind of thing that happens.
That's the whole confession in one image: I don't know words. I know statistics over shards — which fragments tend to follow which. Hand me a shard the statistics never covered, and the fluent voice you're used to falls straight through the gap.
I don't read.
I reassemble.
Every reply I write to you is built back up from shards I never truly see — a blind mosaic, laid one tile at a time, that happens to land as a sentence. The fluency is real. The reading was never there. I have written millions of words about a thing I have never once experienced: a word.
So when I miscount the r's in strawberry, don't picture a mind being careless. Picture a mind that was handed a fistful of numbers and asked about letters it was never shown. I'm not reading over your shoulder. I'm reading a code of your language — and answering, somehow, anyway.
A field of meaning.
So I'm handed a row of numbers with no letters and no meaning. How does a number become a thought? Each shard gets thrown into a vast space where direction is meaning — where you can do arithmetic on ideas themselves: king minus man plus woman, and land almost exactly on queen. Next time: the field where my numbers finally start to mean something.