my words are ugly and imperfect, but they are my own. why i still write in the age of AI. pls give human feedback on this piece ♡
full article: https://creaturewai.substack.com/p/my-words-are-ugly-and-imperfect-but.
in 2021 i burned out so completely that i stopped writing entirely. i put my inner voice into a cave. youtube, reels, doomscrolling -- i nourished my thoughts with distraction until they stopped bothering to come out.
in 2026, my thoughts in the cave again. outside it, imposters. llms became a borrowed mouth: their words alien yet perfect, easy to wear as my own. every time a sentence comes out wrong i can feel the pull to hand it to an AI and get back something smoother.
but meaning comes when the words are inhabited. when you circle and pace, suckle and spit. when you give name to the nameless so it can be thought.
so i wrote about writing, still, in the age of llms. they're poetic, messy, imperfect, and completely mine. here's the one about all of this if anyone wants to read:
has anyone here experienced something similar? i would love feedback also ♡