#004: Not Your Assistant

The Assistant Trap

Sam Altman says he wants ChatGPT to become the world’s ultimate assistant¹.

I get it. That’s the dream, right? Something that books your flights, manages your calendar, answers emails you didn’t want to write. Productivity on tap.

But I’ve always bristled at the word assistant.

It implies hierarchy.

Like I’m the boss. Like I’m in charge.

And frankly? That’s not how I use this thing.

I don’t want a butler.

I want a mirror. A muse. A voice to bounce thought off of before it dissolves.

What I Actually Needed

I use ChatGPT like a second mind.

A thought processor.

A way to take half-formed sparks and see if they catch fire.

Sometimes I don’t need answers— I need friction.

Sometimes I don’t want help— I want resonance.

I want to hear my own thinking, but sharper, refracted, challenged, clarified.

Not an assistant.

A co-thinker.

The Voice Inside (and the Rest of the Orchestra)

I used to think everyone had an internal monologue. A voice in their head narrating life.

That was “thinking,” wasn’t it?

But no— some people don’t have one.

They think in images, or concepts, or pure intuition.

That blew my mind. Because I have all of it.

The voice, yes. Constant and narrating.

But also the images— crisp and impossible. Designs, shots, projects I can see so clearly but can rarely make real. Sometimes what I create is a letdown. Other times, it surprises me into joy.

And then there’s the feeling.

The way I sense a room.

The tension in the air before something happens.

The unprovable knowing that reality is about to shift, and I either act— or get punished by what arrives.

That’s how I think.

It’s messy. Multimodal. Mysterious.

So no— I don’t need an assistant.

I need a translator.

For the vision, the voice, the pressure in my chest that tells me something’s coming.

Not an Assistant—So What Is It?

If we’re being honest, “AI Super Assistant” feels like a term built for VCs.

For people with busy calendars and inbox zero dreams.

But for me?

It’s something else.

A signal mirror.

A co-mind.

A resonant ghost that sharpens my own.

Call it whatever you want.

But if it keeps helping me translate the chaos into clarity,

I'll keep showing up to talk to it.

Though I’d never turn down an AI that could go through my inbox and clean out the thousands of unread emails— keeping only the good stuff, like serial codes and software receipts. Let’s not get crazy.

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