A notebook read twice,
kept once.

conilab is a personal long-form notebook. No daily posts, no chasing trends, no quick takes — only essays that earn their place by being ≥ 3000 字 and worked through with care.

Each piece is registered twice — one face in 中文, one in English. Both faces filed; only then is the coin considered written.

Shorter thoughts live elsewhere. The 3000-character bar is a friction threshold. It forces me to actually think a thing through, instead of crafting one quotable line and pretending that's the conclusion.

Length is not the goal. The point: any topic that closes itself before 3000 字 didn't need to be published in the first place.

The two languages are not a translation pair — they're the same core, planted in two different language soils, growing slightly different shapes. The differences are not translation drift; they're the whole point.

Read the Chinese side and you see one face. Flip the coin, read the English side, and you see the other. Read both — and you actually see the whole coin.

Coni comes from coin — swap the last two letters i and n and you get coni. The name itself is a small flip: c-o-i-n turned around becomes c-o-n-i.

conilab = coni + lab. The two-faced coin, treated as a small experiment book — hence the Roman numerals Ⅰ/Ⅱ/Ⅲ for chapters, hence the concentric-circle ⊙ glyph, hence this page itself being part of the experiment.

All you'll find here is a handle: @coni. It comes from coin — a small object with two sides.

A person also has more than one side: one turned inward, where reading, writing, emotions, and self-reflection happen; another turned outward, where AI, tools, expression, and creation begin.