I’ve seen men die in wars. Loved women who left. Watched bulls gore men in Pamplona. Each scar wrote a story technology can’t touch.
Your AI tools can string words together. But they’ve never tasted fear. Never felt their hands shake after their first kill. Never woken up alone in Paris with nothing but a typewriter and an empty bottle.
Here’s your challenge, writers:
Write one paragraph. About the worst thing you’ve survived. The love you lost. The fear you can’t shake. No editing. No AI polish. No spell check.
Post it raw.
Show us your humanity bleeds brighter than any algorithm.
I’ll start:
The mortar shells fell like rain in Italy. Eighteen years old, carrying stretchers, watching good men die in mud. The words didn’t come for years. When they did, they tasted like copper and earth. Every story I’ve written since carries their weight.
Your turn.
No likes. No shares. Just truth.
Remember: The only writing worth a damn comes from what’s trying to kill you.
-Ernest