I think I need to break up with ChatGPT

It's quietly and slowly killing my imagination.

I used to love the silence, the uncertainty, even the frustration that comes with making something from nothing. But since AI came around, I’ve had an assistant that fills in the gaps when I’m too tired. Too busy or too unsure.

It’s helped me decide what to eat with the four sad ingredients in my fridge. Helped me write the emails I didn’t want to send (THANK GOD for Grammarly). Plan workouts, structure my day, and even organize my thoughts before I had the chance to.

And at first, it made life and work easier.

But now more than ever, it’s become obvious that it’s a crutch.

Anytime I have a new idea, my first thought isn’t:

“let me sit with this.”

Or

“I wonder what my brother Brandon would think about this.”

It’s:

“I should run this by ChatGPT.”

Before the idea can even stretch its legs, before it can surprise me, before it can even confuse me (which is part of the process), I reach for the crutch.

Ideologies are cultural memes — Terence McKenna

I need to come back to the comfort of the unknown, calling a friend just to talk through an idea, to say “this might be stupid but…” and feel the joy of hearing it echoed, polished, or challenged.

Feel like I’ve been trading depth and rawness for speed and efficiency.

So I’m stepping away. Thirty days. No prompts. No outlines. Just me. My mind. My fridge. My blank pages.

I want to remember what it feels like to wait in the dark for the thing that may or may not come. To trust that I can hold space for an idea without rushing to crystallize it. To let my brain wander without a guide. To believe that, maybe, my imagination is enough. And when it’s not..I’ll sit in that too. Or reach out to a friend.

Because if I don’t stop now, if I just ignore this, maybe this is exactly how we end up in the kind of world we swear as humans after watching “I, Robot” or “Terminator” we’d never allow. One where it’s easier to reach for some clever, new AI tool than a friend.

Where I’d rather prompt a chatbot than call someone I love. Where I hand over the sacred mess of human creativity to something clean, clever, and lifeless. If I keep choosing speed over effort and depth, efficiency over patience.. I’m not just outsourcing my work; that’s just the surface of it. I’m outsourcing my development as a human being.

“Chaos is what we've lost touch with. This is why it is given a bad name. It is feared by the dominant archetype of our world, which is Ego, which clenches because its existence is defined in terms of control.” — Terence McKenna

And if we all do it, we won’t just have AI assistants. We’ll have AI therapists(that’s already a thing I know, someone just tried to pay me to promote it). AI mentors. AI girlfriends. AI boyfriends.

Not because they’re better. But because they don’t push back. They don’t trigger us. They don’t confuse or stir up the same stuff like the way humans do to each other. They don’t force us to confront and sit with the real complexities, discomforts, and subtleties of human intimacy and connection.

And isn’t that already starting to happen? We hire AI before humans. We confide in it before we reach out to a close friend or family member.

I’ve been seeing these billboards throughout New York City

It’s subtle. But it’s already here.

Elon Musk’s idea of implanting this type of technology into our brains seems so far-fetched. But if you’ve been picking up what I’ve been putting down, you’d see in many ways that we’ve already done it. ChatGPT is already embedding itself into our brains.

We even trust it more than Google. Remember when Google was the ultimate authority.

“Bro, did you even Google it?”

“What did Google say?”

Now people ChatGPT things more than they Google shit. Right? We use it more than our own thoughts. And if you think I’m reaching, overthinking it, or have seen too many damn sci-fi films, then try going one week without touching it. See what surfaces.

I’ve even been out with friends who have kids, and their children are fucking GLUED TO THEIR IPADS. They scream, throw a fit, and tantrum anytime it’s taken away or their iPad dies. They’re using it at the dinner table. They’re using it in the schools. They’re using it on a car ride. And anytime the parent feels irritated or needs a mental break, guess what they use to soothe the child… yup. The iPad. Do you think those children, when they grow up and become the new adults and new parents, would object to having a chip implanted into their brains? Having an AI girlfriend or boyfriend?

So I think it’s not just my personal responsibility to rewire this impulse, but I think it’s a social responsibility as well.

I will start reaching for the AI button only after I’ve reached for God, myself, my people, Nature, and the silence. Hell... even a YouTube video or Reddit thread.

I’ll call a friend. Take a walk. Try and fail. Stare at the ceiling for an hour. Then maybe, if I’ve given my own mind enough space to show up, I’ll ask for help. But not before I’ve tried and allow myself to be human first.

Does anyone else feel this?

Any other writers or creatives quietly worried they are in a covertly abusive co-dependent relationship with an AI machine? Or am I just losing it?

Either way. 30 days. No prompts.

Let’s see what surfaces. (No, ChatGPT didn’t help me write this..)