#false positive

This is from a recent study that found that GPT detectors were misclassifying writing by non-native English speakers as AI-generated 48-76% of the time (!!!), compared to 0%-12% for native speakers.

how there are songs, books, films that quietly wait for us — and somehow know exactly when to find us again. especially in those moments where everything feels uncertain, heavy, impossible to name. there’s something about pressing play and letting a song hold you when you don’t fully understand what you’re feeling yet. like borrowing someone else’s words, someone else’s melody, just to make sense of your own chaos.

live forever by oasis has been one of those constants in my life. one of the most hopeful songs i’ve ever known. i keep coming back to it, over and over again, like an anchor. it has been there for me in moments of anxiety, grief, loss — in the quiet aftermath of loving people i had to let go of, whether by distance, by change, or by death. it has held me through things i never saw coming.

i think i was around eight or nine when definitely maybe found its way into my hands. it was a gift from my mom’s boyfriend — one of the few good things he ever gave me. live forever became something sacred to me from that moment on. it still amazes me how a song can carry so much inside it — how every time i hear it, i feel both nostalgia and peace at once.

right now, i’m lying in bed. doctor’s orders. a week ago, i found out i was pregnant for the second time — and now we’re days away from confirming that it might not be viable, that there might be only a sac with no embryo. my body says i’m pregnant, but everything points to there being no baby. i’ve been trying to sleep, letting a playlist shuffle in the background. and then, of course, live forever comes on.

and i just can’t help but smile like an idiot and cry out all my fear, all the uncertainty.

life is so complicated sometimes. so unbearably heavy. but there’s something almost magical about not having to go through that weight in silence — about having music there to sit with you in the uncertainty, in the fear, in the grief.

i’m not exaggerating when i say that music saves lives.

and maybe, in ways we don’t always realize, it saves us a little bit every single day.

shelley duvall as wendy torrence the shining (1980) dir. stanley kubrick

Two-thirty in the night. The lamp keeps watch with me; beyond the door, the dark trembles at the dim glare.

No philosophy, no chair, and no table for Lady Poetry. Perfection thunders…

Time, on its chain I grip with every line: the thesis in a second, the synthesis in a tenth.

Do you think @staff are so embarrassed by how crap the automatic moderation is they are flagging posts about it now?

It's a conspiracy I tell you.