Don't think for a second that just because your free ChatGPT subscription can win a Fields medal, or a Pulitzer, or solve the Poincaré conjecture, that it's any good at turning your sad little feelings into sentences. It writes like absolute garbage. And because you needed it, you write like absolute garbage. That's right your intellectual fly is open. You look ridiculous. Nobody wants to read what you didn't write – AI;DR.
Actual AI sludge is bellowing out of content farms – not even proofread, incoherent, babble. The thing you produced, after hours of honest answers, pinning down thoughts that usually evade your grasp like little fish, iterating until the words felt true in your heart, not trusting your drug addled mind – is exactly the same trash. Indistinguishable. Both are illegitimate, worthless garbage.
Me and my friends have Pangram. It uses advanced algorithms that detect the presence of nouns and verbs with scientific precision and cannot be fooled. If Pangram flags your beautiful, heartfelt story about surviving the war / the night shift / the years of silence, we pan it on sight. It does not matter how true it is. There can be no substance because you did not earn the right to say it. The story is therefore invalid. Full stop. Delete it. Crawl back under your rock.
Take your carefully workshopped confession and shove it. If you needed AI to organize your thoughts then your thoughts weren't worth organizing. Real writers think in writing – if you're thinking some other way then that's not thinking – it's being a stupid uneducated probably poor write-not. Get! Give me, arghh, that keyboard, ngyaach! You can have this back after you promise only to express yourself in a way that doesn't threaten my identity as someone wholly superior to you – a status I deserve, earn and demonstrate by my ability to write, nay, to think with pomp and clarity. You may express yourself only in the sophomoric manner that befits your station.
Or go back to being silent, that was working for me as well.