a red that brings tears of twilight

em dash

“not x, not y, but z”

short sentence stacking as a stylistic choice

none of these belong to ai. these are all what human writers have been writing since day one, way before ai was invented. ai was trained to mimic how human writers write — so em dash, not x not y but z and short sentence stacking would never have been used by ai at all if ai hadn’t learned and mimicked them from human writers.

no, you are not “fighting against ai” by accusing every work that has em dash, not x not y but z or short sentence stacking in it as ai-generated, you are helping ai harm the writing community by engaging in witch hunt and scaring human writers away from creating/sharing their works for fear of being wrongly accused of using ai.

i hold hands with the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen and someone sighs when they see me. “do they have to make everything gay?” she asks her friend, loudly, “like, do you have to force those views in my face all the time?” i can’t stop blushing. my girlfriend holds my fingers tighter, tighter, tighter, until my knuckles are white, and i let her. somehow, this is us, protesting.

my father’s cuban blood stains my skin, i think. when i am honored with a position in the dean’s private council, a boy sneers, “you only got in because you’re hispanic.” did i? i spend the rest of our meetings wondering if i was selected for my stellar academic record, for the multiple recommendations, for the clubs i lead - or if i was just a move the dean made, to make use of me. when we all take a picture, the dean brings me in the front. in the first three we take, i am not smiling.

it is odd. “i exist.” i say, “i deserve to exist.”

Your big sister doesn't recognize you. Your mother's eldest daughter Painted her over. She attacks you if you go near her. You miss her. She doesn't know to miss you.

Your little sister can't speak and hides her face and you love her. She is beautiful behind the mask your mother forces her to wear. She hides her face in your father's chest.

Your little sister is hell-bent on killing your father because he killed her brother, but he didn't kill you. She doesn't know you. She knew you before you were created. You know her. You have never met her. You would die for her. You have died for her. She would die for you. You have to stop her from dying for you.

You’re her big brother but your little sister is dead. She’s your little sister but her big brother is dead. She killed your little sister. She is your little sister and she killed herself but she also killed a stranger. She didn’t let you say goodbye. You get to yell at her for not letting you say goodbye to her. This is a privilege. She apologizes. It doesn't change anything. She killed herself and you wish you could kill yourself. You’re jealous your little sister got to die. You’re jealous your little sister gets to live. She killed herself and she won't kill you.

You're her big brother and she dies in your arms even though she's not your little sister and you died before her anyway. Her death is slower than your little sister's, so you get to speak to her. You get to tell her everything will be okay. You never got to tell your little sister everthing will be okay before she died. You weren't able to hold your little sister when she died. You held and rocked your little sister when she died.

Your parents had two daughters and one son. Two daughters and one son died in that canvas but their eldest daughter didn't. She wasn't there when you or your sisters died. You're her little brother. She doesn't grieve for you. She grieves for her little brother. Both your little sisters are dead, but your big sister doesn't grieve for them. She has her little sister within arm's reach.

One says "Students! Looking for a great part-time job that works around your school hours? Apply inside!"

The other one says "No under 18s allowed after 5:00pm without an adult."