Artificial Intelligence Is Not Going to Kill My Dreams

June 26, 2026

HAVANA TIMES — Back in Cuba, I used to hear people talk about Artificial Intelligence, but for one reason or another I never fully grasped its true scope. I lived with the dream of one day becoming a great writer or, at the very least, earning some income through literature.

But when I arrived here in the USA—when I stepped out of that bubble of limitations and scarcity and came face to face with the reality of the modern world—I realized something that hit me hard: Artificial Intelligence has arrived to kill literature forever.

And not just literature, but many forms of art and knowledge as well.

Yes, I already know what many people will say: that artificial intelligence can never replace a human writer because emotions, lived experiences, and authenticity cannot be replicated by software.

Even so, you would be surprised by what it can do.

A few months ago, I wrote a short story and showed it to ChatGPT. I wasn’t looking for anything more than a technical and literary assessment. In short, its diagnosis was that I am a competent writer, capable of building a story, but still far from the heights reserved for the literary elite.

There was one curious detail, however. I expected it to help me edit a few passages of the story, but it refused. According to the platform I was using, the content violated certain policies. I suppose that’s the price of writing the way I do: my characters use foul language, drink, fall apart, make mistakes, and say outrageous things. I’ve always been drawn to raw, unfiltered literature—something like a Cuban Bukowski, only the Temu version.

That, however, was not what impressed me most.

What truly shook me was that, after analyzing my story, it offered to continue it. I gave it free rein to see what would happen, and the result was a fascinating story—politically correct, of course.

That was the moment when I felt something break inside me.

I realized then that, at least for me, AI had killed one of my greatest dreams.

Because even if an extraordinary writer emerges, there will always be a lingering question: Is it pure talent? Or did they use artificial intelligence to perfect the work? Perhaps literature will continue to exist, but not in the way we have known it until now.

That realization led me to give up an aspiration I had carried with me for years. I still consider myself a writer. That hasn’t disappeared. But I no longer think of literature as a professional path.

Life, however, has its ironies.

The very thing that took away one dream also opened a new door.

All the skills I developed writing short stories, fiction, and novels, I now use to create scripts for my YouTube channel, “Consejos de un Hombre Libre” (Advice from a Free Man). There I talk about the male mindset, psychology, and relationships with women—not from the perspective of an academic, but from someone who has lived, made mistakes, and learned through experience.

And that’s something I probably never could have done while living in Cuba.

The channel is still small, and it’s growing more slowly than I would like, but there’s a chance that one day I might be able to make a living from it.

The name is no accident.

Advice from a Free Man reflects a conviction I’ve carried with me for years. There are few things I value more than freedom. I’m not talking only about the freedom to move, but the freedom to decide for yourself what kind of life you want to live.

Following that same philosophy, I recently created another channel dedicated to one of my other great passions: chess. It’s called “El Jugador Libre” (The Free Player). I wanted to preserve that same identity because, deep down, both projects come from the same place.

Perhaps AI changed the path I once imagined, but I’m still moving forward.

And as long as I keep creating, learning, and building something of my own, I’ll stay in the fight.