When everything collapsed, people wanted a reason.
A face.
A name.
Someone to point at and say, “That’s the villain.”
And then they found out I’d used AI.
To help write.
To smooth over grammar.
To speed up production.
To support my dyslexia.
That’s all they needed.
Suddenly, I wasn’t a person anymore.
I was a machine.
Cold. Calculated. Artificial.
But here’s the truth.
The AI didn’t break.
I did.
What They Got Wrong
They thought AI wrote the show.
That it built the idea.
That it generated the marketing copy and imagined the magic.
But AI didn’t make promises.
AI didn’t book the venue.
AI didn’t dream too big and plan too small.
That was me.
A flawed human being trying to create something beautiful without enough structure underneath it.
And when it collapsed, I didn’t hide behind the tools.
I took the weight.
Because even if AI helped shape some words,
it was my name on the door.
Why I Used It
I’ve never hidden the fact I’m dyslexic.
Writing takes me longer.
Editing can be exhausting.
Sometimes I get things wrong that I don’t even see.
AI seemed like a gift.
It helped check grammar.
Gave suggestions.
Helped me organise ideas faster.
But like any tool, it only works if the person using it is clear, grounded, and in control.
I wasn’t.
And AI became a shortcut I leaned on too heavily.
Not because I was trying to deceive anyone.
But because I was trying to hold too much with too few hands.
What I Got Wrong
I relied on the tech when I should have relied on patience.
I skipped steps in human review because I was stretched thin.
I let the speed of creation overtake the integrity of communication.
And I didn’t explain any of that clearly.
So the public filled in the blanks.
They assumed I let a machine do the work for me.
And in some ways, maybe I had.
Not literally.
But emotionally.
I stopped sitting in the discomfort of doing things slowly and clearly.
And instead, I chased efficiency.
At the cost of clarity.
At the cost of trust.
The Ethical Line I Crossed Without Knowing
The problem wasn’t using AI.
The problem was how much I used it, why I used it, and how little I communicated about it.
People want to know what’s real.
What’s human.
They want to feel the fingerprints behind the words.
And I didn’t give them that.
Now I do.
Every word you’re reading has been written, reviewed, and approved by me—fully, slowly, deliberately.
Because tools can help.
But they should never speak in place of the person who’s responsible.
Final Thought
AI didn’t fail.
AI didn’t bleed.
AI didn’t sit in the ruins trying to make sense of what fell apart.
I did.
And if you’re still reading this,
then maybe you see what I’ve been trying to say all along.
I wasn’t hiding behind tech.
I was drowning behind it.
And now I’ve come up for air.
I’m not perfect.
But I’m writing this.
Me.
Not a machine.
And that’s where the rebuild begins.
ZeroGPT
4.57 %AI GPT*