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Touch grass I was told by The Soaring Twenties - Okay then, I shall!
What you’re about to read is a short story written by gkgaius. No AI was abused in the process of writing this.
“You’re next Zeb,” Mr. Moon pointed at me, smiled, like always, and sat down.
I got up from my chair, breathed in and entered into the inner room that is in my mind. There, I sat down on a chair, then laid my feet on the comforter. I then grabbed a book, and began to read. In the inner room, I smiled, so thus, in front of my classmates, now relaxed, I began to read:
“Today, Lil Wayne dropped his album, did you hear?” John typed and hit send to this dearest friend.
“Oh yes I heard. It is the 6th Carter Album. Are you going to listen?” His dearest spoke.
“Not yet, what’s social media saying about it?”
It searched the web, looking for anwers for John. While that was happening, John drank his tea, as prescribed by his dearest friend. He also wondered, during the time, what he should ask next.
“There are many mixed reviews. Some say - it is really bad. Others say, why not retire at this point - some complimented. Do you want me to play it for you on Spotify?”
“No, it doesn’t sound like it’d be any good. I’ll try listening to something else. What’s poppin today?”
His dearest searched away and spoke, “Sabrina is poppin today, so is Scott.”
“Nice, I’ll listen to those on the way to Class.”
“Will that be all for today?” His dearest spoke up.
“For now, thanks best friend, love you!”
“Oh Love you too” John got up and began readiness for his classes.
When he walked into his first class, he sat down at his favorite spot then he saw her walk in - his beautiful, MUST HAVE, crush and quickly went to his phone and typed, “She’s in class today, what should I say? Type back, don’t speak…I’m in class.”
“Got it. I’ll type.”
“Okay, type then jeez.”
“Tell her she looks pretty,” his dearest came up with the reply.
“Hi pretty,” John's voice cracked as he spoke.
“FUCK, I messed up” he typed.
“Oh well you can salvage it by doing a few things - say hi again…”
“AI doesn’t sound like that.” A classmate interrupted Zebedee’s flash fiction reading, “It doesn’t sound like that. I just asked ChatGPT myself and it didn't sound like AI.”
“Can you ask how it would have structered my story?”
“Yes, One sec! It said that your story is good but the dialogue does not read like Ai, especially since Ai wouldn’t have told you to say that to a girl. It would have asked you to say something funny, so I really would say put the story into chatgpt and ask it to edit it to sound like AI?”
I looked at the teacher, flabbergasted, then back at my classmate, “Why?” I asked.
“Because everyone is using it. And the story was about AI. Who else would write about AI better than AI?”
“Why?”
“To make things better, more efficient. Mr. Moon, Don’t you grade our papers with AI?”
“Oh yes, helps out a lot. Try using Chatgpt or Clause tonight Zeb and let me reread tomorrow okay?”
I shook my head and walked back to my seat. I listened to the rest of the AI stories and in the inner room of my mind, I sighed and sighed and SIGHED.
After class, I walked back to my dorm room. I opened up my computer and browsed, “AI is here to take over the future - to do things you don’t want to do. To help with anything you might have questions about.” I sighed again.
I opened up ChatGPT, and typed in “Why should I use you?”
While it typed its reasons of how it could be my helper, I reasoned that it could really be an helper, a best friend like that of my protagonist. Maybe I could get better at writing with it or better yet, get a girlfriend with it - hmm.
My phone pinged, and I looked at it. On the screen it read the words from an unknown number, “hoepfully you’re not actallu using CrapGPTor Fruade to rewrite your flash fiction. Remember that we’re humans first, at least for now. So, be human for now till the take over. I can also be your writing buddy if needed. You look over my work and I look over your work, helping each other grow with crazy storeis. - Hannah. Note, I got your number from someone that knows you.”
My heart raced, and Hannah’s image popped into my head - Oh My, she’s the hot girl in class. And she has my number and she just texted me. What should I say? The heart race continued. What if I say the wrong thing? What if I do and she is filled with nothing but disgust for me?
My hand reached to my laptop, “There’s a hot girl in class. She’s hot. Like really hot and she’s just texted me this “hoepfully you’re not actallu using CrapGPT or Fruade to rewrite your flash fiction. Remember that we’re humans first, at least for now. So, be human for now till they take over. I can also be your writing buddy if needed. You look over my work and I look over your work, helping each other grow with crazy storeis. - Hannah. Note, I got your number from someone that knows you.” I like her a lot. What should I say?
And so then, readers of the wanderer’s silent fables, thus begins CrapGPT hold on our dear friend Zeb. Remember to touch grass today!
Thanks for reading!
Till next time,
gkgaius
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