The antidote to AI slop?

Overshare a little.

My best posts don’t start with ChatGPT.

They start with me yelling, “wait, am I the only one who noticed this??” at my Notes app like a madman on the G train.

Then I throw it into AI like,

“Okay, make this sound smarter than a voice memo recorded mid-anxiety spiral.”

That’s the move: The idea is yours. The spice is yours. The structure? Let the robots help.

Because if the thought isn’t yours, the writing won’t feel like yours either. It’s technically writing. But it’s also soulless, flavorless, indistinguishable from 9,000 other posts saying nothing with perfect grammar.

Here’s the difference: The good stuff starts personal. Not performative, not polished—just real.

A weird opinion. A contradiction you’ve been sitting with. A moment that made you irrationally angry at a UX button.

That’s the signal in the noise. That’s you.

Writers like Adam Delehanty and Jon Wu get this. They’re not pumping out “content”—they’re documenting how they see the world.

And it lands because it’s lived.

It’s not trying to be a thought leader. It’s just an actual thought.

Here’s how I use AI without sounding like I’ve been body-snatched:

• I jot down messy ideas in Notes when they hit

• I talk through them out loud (often to nobody)

• Then I use AI to shape it—trim the fat, find a better hook, help me end strong

But the spark always starts with something human.

AI can help you polish. But it can’t give you taste. It can’t inject soul. It can’t make you funny in a way that’s accidentally too specific to be made up.

So if you want to write something that lands? Say something only you could say. Overshare, a little. Risk being cringey. At least then we’ll know you’re real.

AI can help you write. But only you know what’s worth saying.