This Post Is Late But Arrives Just On Time
Or Is It Early?
I don’t write using a keyboard. I voice to text. Maybe you do too.
My mind moves too quickly or, maybe it’s because I never learned to type. No matter.
With technology, I write the speed of my thoughts, my voice like a pen on digital screens writing words to read. Here are these.
Perhaps 50 is late to write as a dream that began as a child. Maybe not. Or is there an expiration on dreams?
Or too late as now we compete with AI machines?
No, AI doesn’t breathe, no flesh no blood no memories. It will never replace you or me.
Today I have one reader, yet one still matters, and is followed by two.
So why am I here?
To write narrative prose like poetry the stories of life, and to help you write them too.
Today’s writing exercise:
Write A Letter, Post, Or Note, That Is Late But Arrives Just On Time, Or Early. And drop a comment to say hi!
Substack???? oh…alright.
i was talking with others yesterday afternoon about AI. the prevailing feelings-terror and optimism—a mixed bag. i found myself thinking…while their words floated over me…that i have zero desire to pursue AI in any way. i realized im not the least bit curious-as i dug the dirt out from beneath my fingernails and examined the already sun kissed skin of my hands…wondering if AI would somehow-eventually-render me obsolete…irrelevant…and i found that in some ways, i already am…and in others ways i could never be so.