The Sound of Saying Nothing

[dljbsp]

There is a kind of writing that looks fine at first glance. The sentences behave. The grammar is clean. Nothing is obviously wrong. But when you finish reading, you realize nothing stayed with you. You were not taught. You were not challenged. You were not addressed.

 

That kind of writing used to blend in. There was enough space between voices that it could pass unnoticed. Now it doesn’t. When large amounts of writing all sound the same, the emptiness becomes easier to spot.

 

Real writing feels different. It may be simple, but it carries intent. Someone chose those words because they meant something. The ideas move in a direction. There is a point. Even if you disagree, you can tell someone stood behind what was said.

 

What is fading away is not writing itself, but writing that never had much to say. Repeated phrases, safe wording, and careful neutrality no longer hold attention. Readers sense when no one is really present.

 

What remains is clarity. Thought. Voice. Writing that comes from understanding does not need to announce itself. It holds weight because it was formed slowly and deliberately.

 

In a louder world, substance becomes easier to recognize. Shallow words disappear quickly. Meaning lasts longer.

 

Curious how others here are thinking about this—what kind of writing still stays with you?

[Dages]

Well written.  

[Barbllm]

This, to me, is the difference between a human writing a story or novel and ChatGPT or some other AI trying to write a novel.