I have to thank AI for this perspective. It has acted like some prism through which clarifying light has shone: of course my deranged scribbling in the night as I write down a dream is more useful and beautiful than anything produced by AI. It is the other side of some metaphorical ancient scale, and it will never outweigh a feathers worth of anything created by a human. A smudged thumb print is infinitely more beautiful than dozens upon dozens of anthropomorphic fruit themed tv shows. It has made me more resolved to create bad art (to reference one of my favorite creators on the Internet)2 and to put less thought into whether or not things are good or deserve to exist. It’s all better than AI, and at the end of a month I think I’d rather have a lot of pieces of disjoint ramblings and half made sketches than the fog of mute, unvoiced might-have-beens, gathered in my mind like a stormcloud.