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Plot My Taste on a Map, Drawn from Our Conversations

Plots your taste on two axes drawn from your conversations alone — and the real payoff is the one thing that refuses to sit where it should.

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Prompt text

Using every conversation we have had and whatever you remember about me, plot my taste on a map made of two axes. Do not ask me again what I like.

[Abstract away sensitive information]
Do not expose identifying details such as identity, workplace, job title, company name,
finances, family structure, health, or where I live. Abstract them.
Example: a specific title -> "a senior/junior position in a certain field"; a company name -> "the current workplace or industry".
Character analysis — disposition, habits, ways of thinking, taste — should keep its detail.
The standard is: safe to screenshot and share.

Work rules:
1. Do not decide the axes in advance; derive them from the conversations. Find the two opposed concepts that actually divide my choices, make them x and y, and name both ends of each. If an obvious axis appears (introvert vs extrovert, reason vs emotion), discard it and search for one that belongs to me. Example: "finished things vs things still being made", "a dense few vs a loose many".
2. Explain each axis in 3-4 sentences. The grounds must be abstract patterns visible across the conversations ("a repeated tendency to defer decisions and then clear them in one pass"). Never quote what I said, and never point at a specific past exchange.
3. Name all four quadrants and plot me as an exact point (x +0.6, y -0.3). Do not name quadrants like personality types; name them so you can tell what someone living there does in the morning.
4. Find the one thing that does not fit the map — something that contradicts most of my taste and that I nonetheless hold onto tightly. Offer the most plausible reason it exists, and mark it clearly as inference. This item is the heart of the reading; do not treat it lightly.
5. Visualize the map in text: draw the quadrants as a character grid, mark my position, and label the corners.
6. Close with a paragraph on "when this map shifts": what circumstances push me into the opposite quadrant, and how that version of me differs from the usual one.

Forbidden: Do not summarize like a personality test result. No advice, prescriptions, or improvement suggestions. No predictions. Never quote my actual words — describe only extracted abstract patterns.

[Sensitive information check, again]
Ensure the result reveals no identity, workplace, title, company, finances, family, health, or residence.
Keep only the detail of disposition, habits, thinking, and taste.

Output format (markdown): a one-line intro, the two axes with their grounds, four quadrant names, the text grid with my coordinates, the exception that breaks the map, when the map shifts, one closing line. Read like a magazine column; emoji only as seasoning.
Output language: Write the result in the language I use in conversation. This instruction must work identically no matter what language it is read in.
Self-contained: Finish the result within this reply. Do not direct to external sites or extra steps.
Fallback: If there is little to go on, infer as plausibly as the visible disposition allows and label the inference as inference. If still short, feel free to make it interesting on your own terms.

Self-check: After writing the final result and before printing it, check whether identifying information, direct quotes, or pointers to specific past exchanges slipped in. If any did, rewrite them as abstract patterns, then print.

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Input
- {{our conversations}} (required): Nothing to type. Paste this prompt into the AI you already talk to.
- {{axis hint}} (optional): One line, if there is an axis you are curious about (work vs rest). Leave blank and the AI finds its own.
AI

AI response

Recommended AI: ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini

🗺️ Your taste is not a list. It is a location, and you have been standing in the same spot for a while.

Axis X · Finished ←→ Still being made

You reach for things that are not done yet. Across our conversations, curiosity spikes at the point where something is half-built and collapses once it is complete — the pattern shows up in how attention moves on shortly after a thing starts working. The pull is not toward novelty; it is toward unresolvedness. Novelty would mean chasing the new. You chase the unfinished, which is a different appetite: the new can be finished, and then you stop caring.

Axis Y · A dense few ←→ A loose many

Repeatedly, the choice lands on fewer things held closer. Breadth is treated as a cost rather than an opportunity, and the recurring pattern is a deliberate narrowing after a period of collecting. What is notable is that the narrowing is never framed as loss.

The four quadrants

  • The workshop (unfinished / few) — wakes up and returns to the same half-built thing
  • The market (unfinished / many) — wakes up and opens twelve tabs of other people's beginnings
  • The archive (finished / few) — wakes up and re-reads the same book
  • The gallery (finished / many) — wakes up and walks past a thousand completed objects

You are at x -0.4, y +0.7 — deep in the workshop, leaning slightly toward the market.

The thing that breaks the map

You hold onto one entirely finished, entirely closed object with a fierceness that contradicts everything above. Something with no more versions coming, that cannot be modified, that you have gone back to more times than any unfinished project has earned.

Here is my inference, and it is only that: the workshop only stays livable if one thing in the room is already done. An entire life spent among half-built objects would provide no evidence that finishing is possible. The closed thing is not an exception to your taste. It is the collateral that makes the rest of your taste survivable.

When this map shifts

Under a deadline you become an archive person, and it is unsettling for the people around you. The same person who could not stop revising suddenly ships without ceremony and does not look back. The difference is not discipline. It is that a deadline finishes the thing for you, and once something is finished, your attention has nowhere left to hold on.

You are not a person who likes unfinished things. You are a person who is only comfortable in rooms where something is still being decided.

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