- Jack Kerouac, On the Road
I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn’t know who I was — I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I’d never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn’t know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn’t scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost, of a world that was a part of it and something that made it human and that lived on Earth, and that somehow had some effect on an individual.
The other end of the journey had already come a few weeks ago — a few days ago, when I got to this time, my body went through a serious and more serious trauma that was caused by my physical condition. I wasn‒t doing much. Was it my job to get my body healthy so that my body could, I had a choice to say to the nurse that day: "What are you supposed to do to this baby?" They went to the hospital in hospital, the psychiatric ward, where I was, we put in her eyes, and she was, I felt, all laid back.
"You are not a child with a physical defect," I said. "I don't know why you have a physical defect." Why a doctor would order me, I wondered. I felt like she would think I was talking to me, for that was a huge responsibility. She would make my eyes open. So here I was, I think, nine months in, and I wasn‒t I? I couldn't go anywhere. I was in the hospital for about five nights. The nurses gave me a cup of soup and I walked in. I was in. I was pregnant. I was on it.
I told them I had a defect that was a part of it, but they gave me some of my own, and I was, they said, scared. This was probably the most humiliating mistake I had ever made, in my entire life. I think they would say if I'd survived and you didn‒t get pregnant at that moment then you wouldn't know it either; it was not like my skin was covered. So I put in the coffee I got. They gave me, in the form of my mom, a cup of soup. They told me to go home and get my husband to make some bread. That was it. The thing is, I could have made a whole mess of it if I had, so why would she have tried me? That is, we are not the same people, we are different from each other. We are different from each other. A woman is a woman for what she does, but she is not someone I am not: I am the same woman I am. And by this time, she came back, and the cup was all over her: it is the best cup.
"I can do this, because I can do this," I said to her.
In that moment, I had learned everything that she could talk to me.
When I came home from the hospital, I was still not knowing who he is — I was in the hospital, in the psychiatric ward, looking out over the hospital. He hadn't seen me for three days, I didn't know what I was — I was scared, I was really scared; I felt he knew that I was safe. I felt like I had a responsibility for someone else. I thought of my own self, like I knew that there was none; how was she? He was not my person. I still had the responsibility for this, and it's not just that.
I knew this day would come. But I had the benefit and the benefit of it for me. What I knew from my experience, was that I should have never had someone in my position like that, even though she was trying to help her son. Instead, I was trying to work through this; I was trying to make it easier for her.
I kept fighting until, I guess, when I first arrived at Morningside Hospital; I think I knew it because I was there to support the doctor. I was thinking that the doctor had been, because if he hadn't been in the hospital and my only connection was the hospital, even though I hadn't been in the hospital, then he would have hurt me.
I was about to take a break, and the doctors took me, and I was gone. I was scared and angry. But I didn't lose a smile; I just lost my wholeheartedness.
I had to stop being so sad. I was in the hospital for the last year that I remembered; I just felt like the other doctors were there to support me. I remember; I stood on the podium and cried; I was crying, and I started crying. I cried; I stood on the back of the front podium and cried; and the pain was finally. I felt like I had the world out: I had an end, and, right now, my end had come.
But I wasn't sure it was a sign — I was not sure it was a sign: I was not sure it was a sign:
That I had done an all-out. I felt wrong, I looked wrong; I was a lie, I was wrong.
****************************************************************************
I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn’t know who I was — I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I’d never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn’t know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn’t scared; I was just Her bearing still had a whiff of the provinces about it, a quality apparent in her rather common tendency toward languidness. The other thing I was like, this is a kind of horror when you find it — it's just, I said, an unpleasant idea — but also a kind of a shock when it happens, of a kind itself. I was like, if I woke up, that just had this strangest sense — it's just, I said, an unpleasant idea — but also a kind of itself. I was like, if I woke up, that just had this strangest sense — it's just, I said, an unpleasant idea — but also a kind of itself."
The end of January I left the United States, just before Christmas, to the country's most famous ski resort, a 2,500-mile expressway for tourists to explore. I drove back to Australia, where Australia's finest mountain glaciers were once the finest. On the way, I was pleasantly surprised to find that, in Australia, the mountain ranges were the most beautiful, and Australia itself is just as lovely. I found this fact to be somewhat jarring to a viewer too — that Australia still has a bit of Australia, a very famous mountain, and a great culture beyond its borders that is now known as "Australia."
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I stopped in Sydney on what appeared to be Australia's northern edge of the Himalayas and saw how Australia was once a melting beacon of freedom and independence. "Well, Australia doesn't have the long coastline to fall in" I told him. "I know that, and I really can't believe the fact. This is Australia. It's still not where I have always thought. The mountains haven't fallen in quite enough time, and Australia isn't really far off from the Pacific. Australia is like an iceberg. There are too many things to get right. Australia will fall on its own, but the next big thing is the same iceberg, and the way that Australia has slid is to fall up the ocean, into the ocean, and then back up to it."
I asked I what the thing had to do with Australia; a long time ago I would have had to take a plane back to Australia just to land, which meant that I had to make some reservations — I'd been in Adelaide since the end of the war — about that idea. But for a while, I had made some reservations about Australia; but it was a long time ago I had made reservations about Australia, and that meant I had to make some reservations about Australia. I decided to start reading what had happened. I went back to Australia, and I read a handful of articles:
*
In November of 1941 I had a new book, The Trip to Australia. It was titled The Myth of Everest and was not a memoir of the kind I had previously written. The book, A Guide to Yosemite and Glacier Cascades, was written by the historian Ernest L. Henshell, who had been on the lookout for a new book. In describing the myth, Henshell described, "I think I might have made a career out of my expedition to the Antarctic. I was in Italy in 1948, which was in 1967 and 1969; then I went into the Alps. I went through the mountain in the morning, and I found it up and down the mountains in my mind. It is interesting that the mountain is really the center and the end of it. The mountains are about the top of the mountain. These mountains are about the world, and so if I could do anything for Australia, I think a little luck would have been in it." In 1966, I read a book called The Trip to Australia, an article entitled "The Myth of Everest, the First Record for a Glacier in Canada." In my book I stated, "If you go to the Alps in the middle of these mountains and there is nowhere to go, the volcano is exactly where you think I might be. There is no place in Antarctica for these mountain sites." In 1966, I moved from Adelaide to Australia when the trail arrived. In 1967, the trail reached a steep, narrow ridge between Sydney and the mountains.
On the previous trip there to Australia, I wrote a review for the book that I still loved — but didn't want to keep going: "So what would go on? It is a long journey from one moment to the next, but I still had a sense of adventure and was actually trying to do things for Australia. The mountains are about the top of the mountain. These mountains are about the top of the mountain." In 1966, I came back to Australia when the trail arrived; and in 1967, I read a review for the book that I still loved — but thought it had been a long time ago I had made reservations about Australia.
In 1966, I wrote a review for the book that I still loved — but thought it had been a long time ago I had made reservations about Australia.
In 1966, I wrote a review for the book that I still loved — but
The text generation API is backed by a large-scale unsupervised language model that can generate paragraphs of text. This transformer-based language model, based on the GPT-2 model by OpenAI, intakes a sentence or partial sentence and predicts subsequent text from that input.
API Docs
QUICK START API REQUEST
curl \
-F 'text=YOUR_TEXT_URL' \
-H 'api-key:quickstart-QUdJIGlzIGNvbWluZy4uLi4K' \
https://api.deepai.org/api/text-generator
Generate Text
base on an input sentence
Generate coherent text from seed text
Text Prediction
for partial sentences
Complete partial sentences with text generation
Complete Paragraphs
of text generated
Generate complete paragraphs of text
Text Generation API Documentation
Text Generation cURL Examples
# Example posting a text URL:
curl \
-F 'text=YOUR_TEXT_URL' \
-H 'api-key:quickstart-QUdJIGlzIGNvbWluZy4uLi4K' \
https://api.deepai.org/api/text-generator
# Example posting a local text file:
curl \
-F 'text=@/path/to/your/file.txt' \
-H 'api-key:quickstart-QUdJIGlzIGNvbWluZy4uLi4K' \
https://api.deepai.org/api/text-generator
# Example directly sending a text string:
curl \
-F 'text=YOUR_TEXT_HERE' \
-H 'api-key:quickstart-QUdJIGlzIGNvbWluZy4uLi4K' \
https://api.deepai.org/api/text-generator
Text Generation Javascript Examples
// Get the 'deepai' package here (Compatible with browser & nodejs):
// https://www.npmjs.com/package/deepai
// All examples use JS async-await syntax, be sure to call the API inside an async function.
// Learn more about async-await here: https://javascript.info/async-await
// Example posting a text URL:
const deepai = require('deepai'); // OR include deepai.min.js as a script tag in your HTML
deepai.setApiKey('quickstart-QUdJIGlzIGNvbWluZy4uLi4K');
(async function() {
var resp = await deepai.callStandardApi("text-generator", {
text: "YOUR_TEXT_URL",
});
console.log(resp);
})()
// Example posting file picker input text (Browser only):
const deepai = require('deepai'); // OR include deepai.min.js as a script tag in your HTML
deepai.setApiKey('quickstart-QUdJIGlzIGNvbWluZy4uLi4K');
(async function() {
var resp = await deepai.callStandardApi("text-generator", {
text: document.getElementById('yourFileInputId'),
});
console.log(resp);
})()
// Example posting a local text file (Node.js only):
const fs = require('fs');
const deepai = require('deepai'); // OR include deepai.min.js as a script tag in your HTML
deepai.setApiKey('quickstart-QUdJIGlzIGNvbWluZy4uLi4K');
(async function() {
var resp = await deepai.callStandardApi("text-generator", {
text: fs.createReadStream("/path/to/your/file.txt"),
});
console.log(resp);
})()
// Example directly sending a text string:
const deepai = require('deepai'); // OR include deepai.min.js as a script tag in your HTML
deepai.setApiKey('quickstart-QUdJIGlzIGNvbWluZy4uLi4K');
(async function() {
var resp = await deepai.callStandardApi("text-generator", {
text: "YOUR_TEXT_HERE",
});
console.log(resp);
})()
Text Generation Python Examples
# Ensure your pyOpenSSL pip package is up to date
# Example posting a text URL:
import requests
r = requests.post(
"https://api.deepai.org/api/text-generator",
data={
'text': 'YOUR_TEXT_URL',
},
headers={'api-key': 'quickstart-QUdJIGlzIGNvbWluZy4uLi4K'}
)
print(r.json())
# Example posting a local text file:
import requests
r = requests.post(
"https://api.deepai.org/api/text-generator",
files={
'text': open('/path/to/your/file.txt', 'rb'),
},
headers={'api-key': 'quickstart-QUdJIGlzIGNvbWluZy4uLi4K'}
)
print(r.json())
# Example directly sending a text string:
import requests
r = requests.post(
"https://api.deepai.org/api/text-generator",
data={
'text': 'YOUR_TEXT_HERE',
},
headers={'api-key': 'quickstart-QUdJIGlzIGNvbWluZy4uLi4K'}
)
print(r.json())
Text Generation Ruby Examples
# Example posting a text URL:
require 'rest_client'
r = RestClient::Request.execute(method: :post, url: 'https://api.deepai.org/api/text-generator', timeout: 600,
headers: {'api-key' => 'quickstart-QUdJIGlzIGNvbWluZy4uLi4K'},
payload: {
'text' => 'YOUR_TEXT_URL',
}
)
puts r
# Example posting a local text file:
require 'rest_client'
r = RestClient::Request.execute(method: :post, url: 'https://api.deepai.org/api/text-generator', timeout: 600,
headers: {'api-key' => 'quickstart-QUdJIGlzIGNvbWluZy4uLi4K'},
payload: {
'text' => File.new('/path/to/your/file.txt'),
}
)
puts r
# Example directly sending a text string:
require 'rest_client'
r = RestClient::Request.execute(method: :post, url: 'https://api.deepai.org/api/text-generator', timeout: 600,
headers: {'api-key' => 'quickstart-QUdJIGlzIGNvbWluZy4uLi4K'},
payload: {
'text' => 'YOUR_TEXT_HERE',
}
)
puts r
Text Generation Csharp Examples
// Ensure your DeepAI.Client NuGet package is up to date: https://www.nuget.org/packages/DeepAI.Client
// Example posting a text URL:
using DeepAI; // Add this line to the top of your file
DeepAI_API api = new DeepAI_API(apiKey: "quickstart-QUdJIGlzIGNvbWluZy4uLi4K");
StandardApiResponse resp = api.callStandardApi("text-generator", new {
text = "YOUR_TEXT_URL",
});
Console.Write(api.objectAsJsonString(resp));
// Example posting a local text file:
using DeepAI; // Add this line to the top of your file
DeepAI_API api = new DeepAI_API(apiKey: "quickstart-QUdJIGlzIGNvbWluZy4uLi4K");
StandardApiResponse resp = api.callStandardApi("text-generator", new {
text = File.OpenRead("C:\\path\\to\\your\\file.txt"),
});
Console.Write(api.objectAsJsonString(resp));
// Example directly sending a text string:
using DeepAI; // Add this line to the top of your file
DeepAI_API api = new DeepAI_API(apiKey: "quickstart-QUdJIGlzIGNvbWluZy4uLi4K");
StandardApiResponse resp = api.callStandardApi("text-generator", new {
text = "YOUR_TEXT_HERE",
});
Console.Write(api.objectAsJsonString(resp));
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Her bearing still had a whiff of the provinces about it, a quality apparent in her rather common tendency toward languidness.—Murasaki Shikibu, The Tale of Genji
The other woman, when it came to her body and her body, was entirely sure of herself.
In practice she had, from her day of the practice gone a great deal, no power beyond a great deal. She was an idealist. She was always present, always knew herself well, and had never been so.
One afternoon she was sitting in the dark of the summer evenings.
It was the only time she ever sat in that silence. "I've never, I've never known anybody like you," she told me in a way as unnoticeable as her face would be. She was just this close to it, the same way it seemed a few years after she'd told this woman. She had a kind smile when she met her, it was her voice of expression. "I know, you're a very talented woman, but I always said I can't go to the place of making the world easier for you," she said.
She nodded, but he felt a sense of unease, too afraid of making it to his office. An ordinary woman who had worked in a public place for nearly two years before, she never imagined a man like her who had taken her own life, never imagined that women, like herself, would find her and anyone like it so close or so many times in their lives.
On her desk stood a young woman. She had a tiny table with her hand on her mouth in front of it, and her hand was sitting on the opposite side of the chair.
Caitlin was about to sit on her left arm, which was facing me.
I stared up at her, looking confused in his usual self-deprecating stare.
Caitlin stared directly at me in confusion, my view shifting from surprise to horror, while the woman on the right stood behind her, holding the table up, arms crossed together, in the background. "What is this," she said, reaching to her knees and smiling, "a young man's job? I could talk to a young man and I would be very happy with him, very happy with me, quite simply. I feel sorry for him!"
The young woman shook her head. She was a young man. A man of a man for whom "my job is to teach" didn't seem a good idea. What was the job then? It was simply a job that came with nothing, the job was an adventure, its job is the only job that means something, to be taken to new heights.
Caitlin's eyes narrowed.
In that moment she'd known that everything that she had taught would mean something, that everything had been done in the past, that the only way anyone could remember my old profession was to die. I knew it had something to do with that, but I hadn't yet seen that girl, and I'd not yet seen that girl yet. She had been my father. I knew it had something to do with her skills, of course, but she had a different memory of the job. I knew it had to do with her knowledge skills, and I had a lot to think about.
As was the case with any woman, she had the idea that she was going to become a father. If I could teach something, I could teach it and be as good as I can be. She had the skills I needed. I had the knowledge and knowledge of the job, and I could teach it and be as good a father as I can be.
I had gotten her advice from her, and she was a big part of why she had been teaching her to be such a great father. She had a whole lot to teach, and she had also gotten her advice from her father when I was teaching myself.
"It's important to know that you know yourself," she said. "There are a lot of people that think you can go to a teacher, go to a teacher or a teacher and teach you. You know all this. But let's get together, and ask yourself the questions that you need. Do you mean how many years of lessons your teacher took you on?"
I turned around and looked at the young woman. "That would be a good thing too," she said in a voice that she was sure she had never heard anywhere else. "You know, the best teacher I have ever had!"
The older woman was right, but I did not really know exactly what that had to do with her life. I didn't know what the answer would be. It was very frustrating to have her take this time for granted when I was, for years, my boss had told me years after that, how much she'd be in a job—not her job to teach young children.
In fact, before any of this happened, all I'd heard about was of a man getting a job. The most I'd heard was about a young man who had spent
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