I want to read your words

It’s like the Uncanny Valley. After reading thousands upon thousands of generated words, we just have a sense for it.

There’s a scent, and there are giveaways: the em dash (rip), “it’s not X, it’s Y”, the cool bravado that would make even the greenest copy writer blush, these small tells add up. And even if they don’t, we can still tell.

In short: We know this ain’t you, buddy.

So, I’m going to ask you something. And you don’t have to, but please consider it. I’d like you to write in your own words and in your own voice.

If the grammar is weird, if it’s awkward, that’s fine. If some of the ideas are half baked or somewhat incorrect, that’s fine. If it’s a genuine magnum opus, perfect in every way, then that’s fine too.

It’s fine because it’s you and it’s all of us.

I didn’t start an eight hour a day computer habit to talk to the computer. Although it might feel that way at times, friend, I’m only here because you’re here.

I’m here because I genuinely want to know the strange, honest, and unique things that you think. I want to learn from your real, lived experiences. I want to see what other living beings think about all this, whatever it is. I am, in every sense, here for you.

The internet is an insane labyrinth of humanity. It’s weird and it’s messy. To me, it’s beautiful. And I feel that way because like Soylent Green, it’s just people.

I really don’t care what an LLM thinks about any topic. As dazzling as its intellect may be, it isn’t a person. There’s no soul there. And thus, there’s no connection. I can feel it when I read the posts. Or rather, I can’t, not at all, not even a bit.

And so to me, there’s no point.

Maybe a language model can write every blog there is to write. This flawless library might be linguistically perfect, shimmering with crystalline logic, the very height of dynamic rationalism. And it might seem much more impressive than our mere ramblings.

But it isn’t, really. It’s hollow and empty because it’s had no experiences. Every idea in its robot head is stolen from someone real.

Using its words will do nothing for you, and it does nothing for us.

You are much more interesting.

Your thoughts are much more important.

This is a difficult journey, my friend.

And it’s not one I want to take alone.