I’m often lost when it comes to writing articles. I used to do so quite frequently in my days as part of Gnome Stew, but the heat of those days have long since died down. Though the embers remain. Writing with purpose feels rudimentary but in our modern day everything seems to requisition, perhaps demand?, purpose. Words will be—ARE—skimmed over more than ever, especially since its to the assumption most generated letters are driven by artificial intelligence. I’ve written with purpose because if I have no clue as to the purpose of what I’m saying, how am I to expect anyone to care what’s being said? What is word choice when we’ve learned that most people are capable of skimming words and sentences and getting the ‘gist of it’ or having an ai summarize entire books and their puppeteers calling themselves well read? What is the point, and what is the matter?

Shouldn’t writing have purpose? Shouldn’t the words you write and say have a point, have a lesson, have a goal, have a takeaway for someone to absorb and simply forget in a fortnight? Word choice can also be poison, as evident in the likelihood you thought of ‘Fortnite’ then and now now as I explain.

If your words are going to get lost, and assuming you’re not writing a book to be published or peer reviewed, I’ve come to believe that my words, in their lessening value of meaning, readability, or viability, has lessened so much so in value, it’s now become more important than ever to write them.

In knowing I’ve spent this time writing, knowing no one else may read this, it’s become so unvaluable it’s become invaluable. With none to observe or judge my exact word usage, I’m now able to use many more. Countless more words and combinations and ineloquent, unfiltered, unreviewed sentences. If I stopped giving a shit about people reading things, or as to whether they’ll perceive these words will have any value whatsoever, then I’ve become free—untethered.

My lack of eloquence, the lack of clarity, the lack of proper frame and network has become the most human thing I can produce. Through peer review we’ve cleaned up our act, and chained our voices to what sounds proper and what sounds most readable… but I’ve always deeply admired those that I couldn’t understand immediately. Their words were always the least clean and the least clear but you knew they were trying to share an essence of a feeling, an idea. The chained voices we’ve grown to produce have always been clean and easy to process—for both human and ai alike. These are the voices that ai models have been trained to parrot and produce, and in doing so: proper voice and verbiage has become a sign of ai.

Like be honest, was there a consideration this might’ve been ai due to my love of—em—dashes?

So wouldn’t that mean that the messy voice, the unfiltered voice, would be the most human voice of them all? So much of human communication has been messy and unfiltered, so why have we taken to “great speeches” by “great men” as the symbols of humanity and civilization? The proper voice gets judged and mislabelled and misunderstood regardless of how much time you’ve edited the draft, so what loss is there between that and the ‘improper’ voice?

Seeking to understand and to be understood is human, but wouldn’t that mean our nature is innately unclear and vague? To see clarity means our base communication is unclear, and our human nature is unclear.

To write with freedom is to write with uncertainty. Uncertainty that you’ll ever really be understood, and uncertainty if your words will ever be read in the first place. Honestly just throw this into some kind of ai summary and see what pops out.

It’ll probably be clearer than whatever I wrote.

See attached: the ai summary of my writing