A public diary

I’ve been trying to let ChatGPT write an article for my blog from a conversation I had with it, but I’m never better served than by myself. Just a reminder that AI can do plenty, but it won’t steal my unique voice and vision. What comes out of me holds a vibration of authenticity, and it just hit different. After writing at Radio Bush yesterday, I knew there was more inside me, so I sent my entry to ChatGPT and asked it to create a few questions to help me dive into the core

I made it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wow. I can’t fully process it yet. It feels surreal. I started to write yesterday, but the aftershock of arrival hit me hard. My body couldn’t cope with anything anymore. I finally got my period on the way to Santiago, which now feels symbolic. My whole system perfectly synchronized with my mind and the experience itself. I had been tense for a week, carrying the accumulation of fatigue, and my body must have stored every last drop of energy just to m

Okay, guys, big update. Today was completely different. I’m honestly exhausted right now, and it’s taking all my motivation to sit and write because I’d rather just enjoy the evening with my new friends. But you don’t know them yet, so let’s rewind to this morning. I had a rough night, waking up around 3am. and struggling to fall back asleep. Still, I made it out of the albergue by eight. I found a café, ordered a toast with tomato, avocado, and scrambled eggs, and a latte