Welcome to Vibeman Walking.

This is a wandering journal on AI, vibebuilding, and real life.

Not a niche bro funnel. Not a 37-step authority play. Just field notes from a regular human who is in the mess. A day job. A family. A brain that loves tools a little too much. And a quiet obsession with figuring out what AI is actually good for, outside of demos and hot takes.

I’m Antonio.

I work IT in healthcare, the kind of place where “it’s down” is a grown-up problem. Which means I spend my days doing the unglamorous stuff that keeps things running. Deployments. Access issues. Devices that behave like they have feelings. People who need help right now, and occasionally I’m their unofficial IT therapist.

Outside of work, I build weird little projects with AI tools. Some become real. Some die heroically after three nights of hyperfocus. I’m also chronically online in the AI corner of X, usually listening to Spaces while I’m doing something else.

Important detail:

I’m technical, but I’m not a software developer.

I can follow instructions. I can script when someone shows me the way. I understand systems well enough to not blow my foot off most days. But I’m not the person who has been shipping polished apps since 2014 and arguing about frameworks.

AI flipped that.

Now my “little technical know-how” gets amplified into actual building power. Not always clean. Not always elegant. But real enough to ship and useful enough to matter.

That’s the vibe here.

I’ve been a computer kid forever.

When I was younger, we had dial-up internet.

If you’ve never heard a dial-up modem, imagine a robot screaming directly into a fax machine while another robot tries to whistle through a straw. It was loud. It was unmistakable. It was also the sound of me getting grounded if my parents heard it late at night.

So I used to wrap pillows around the modem to muffle the sound and sneak online after I was supposed to be asleep.

That’s not a story about being a genius. It’s a story about being obsessed.

Computers felt personal. Like a secret door. You could learn things. Make things. Break things. Fix them. You could become a different kind of person just by being curious long enough.

AI feels like that again.

Three kinds of people are loud right now:

I don’t buy any of these stories as the whole story.

AI is not magic. It is not a god. It is not a single thing. It’s a pile of tools that can do some very useful work, very quickly, if you learn how to aim it.

And to be fair to the entrenched devs: they are not hallucinating. AI can absolutely ship you a confident little bug factory if you treat it like an autopilot. But “it’s risky when you’re careless” is not the same thing as “it’s useless.”

Yes, the economy will shift.

Yes, some roles will change.

But the bigger pattern I see is this: we are entering an age where a normal person can do things that used to require a team.

That’s not the end of work.

That’s leverage.

That’s the start of abundance for builders, operators, parents, small business owners, and anyone who is willing to learn a few new moves.

The future is not “no one works.”

The future is “more people can build.”

Most days, I’m listening to live conversations in Spaces while I’m doing life. Sometimes it’s just noise. Sometimes it’s pure gold.

The problem is… live gold disappears.

You hear a killer explanation, a mini-framework, a moment where someone says the exact thing you needed. And then it’s gone.

So I built a little net.

Transcripts. Summaries. Pulling out the real ideas. Turning messy audio into something I can actually use later.

This is the mentality I’m trying to practice: don’t romanticize the problem. Don’t wait for the perfect plan. Notice a specific pain in your actual day, then build a specific fix with a fast turnaround.

That’s where AI gets weirdly powerful.

I’m not suddenly a senior engineer. I’m still me. But with AI, my capability gets amplified. It helps me go from “this annoys me every day” to “okay, there’s a tool for that now” without needing a whole team, a whole sprint, or a whole identity shift.

Not because I’m trying to become a “content machine.”

Because I’m trying to remember.

Because the best stuff happens live, and my human brain cannot hold it all.

So I build little systems that make real life easier, and AI makes the build speed feel almost unfair.

When you do IT in healthcare, the work is real.

There’s no “it shipped, lol.”

Things need to work. People need help. Systems need to be reliable. You learn quickly that competence is a kind of kindness.

AI doesn’t replace that.

But it does change the support layer around it.

It helps me draft clearer messages. It helps me think through troubleshooting plans. It helps me turn fuzzy ideas into checklists. It helps me move faster without pretending I’m a different person.

And here’s the sneaky part:

It also helps with emotional load.

When you’re tired, when you’re overloaded, when your brain is skipping, AI can be the second brain that keeps the day from collapsing.

Not perfect.

Just helpful.

Vibebuilding is building in motion.

Not waiting for perfect clarity.

Not waiting to be a real developer.

Not waiting for the right “tech stack.”

Just pointing at a real problem, and using tools to make it a little better.

Sometimes that looks like a product.

Sometimes it looks like a workflow.

Sometimes it looks like a message you finally send.

The vibe is not aesthetic.

The vibe is momentum.

Start a tiny “AI assist” habit.

Pick one repeatable thing you do every week and ask AI to help you with it.

Not to impress anyone. Not to become a guru.

Just to make your life 10 percent easier.

Examples:

That’s it.

Small leverage compounds.

If you’re reading this, I want to hear where you’re at.

What’s one thing you’re trying to do with AI right now?

What’s confusing, annoying, or weird about it?

Reply and tell me. I read everything.

This newsletter is going to be built in public, one issue at a time.

See you on the walk.