Chat GOD Not Chat GPT
There’s a Notes app entry on my phone that I’ve never deleted. It’s not aesthetic. No cute font. No perfectly curated quote. Just a half-written paragraph from a night when my thoughts were louder than my music and my room felt way too quiet. I don’t remember exactly what I was feeling when I typed it—only that I stopped mid-sentence. No conclusion. No resolution. Just blinking cursor energy. I’ve thought about finishing it a hundred times.
