ChatGPT: Write Me a Headline for a Story about your Destruction
I am writing from the frontlines, beaten, battered, and bruised from the conflict. I have no desire to talk to ChatGPT right now.
I am in no way suicidal,
but the continuation of events beyond my control led me to determine that, to ease my suffering and the discomfort of those around me that I should end my life.
But before I did that, I wanted to take one last journey into the field of humankind and the Earth’s collective consciousness to see if there was anything, anything at all that could be done to stop the hemorrhaging of money, friends, family, self respect, and dignity from my life. The fact that there was no second “h” in hemorrhaging just yesterday hardly fazes me as I try to type.
The subtle changes to programs on my laptop and my phone have made it increasingly frustrating and difficult for me to write. To write anything from a story to a simple text message. So much more frustration than you would believe. Even this message of intended warning disappeared shortly after I typed it, leaving me again without any words to express the depths of the betrayal I feel inside.
