I've spent my whole life learning to tell a story that can make a room go quiet. And now a machine spits out something close enough in seconds, and people can barely tell the difference. Part of me knows mine has a soul theirs doesn't. Part of me is just grieving, watching the thing I gave my life to become something anyone can order up cheap.
More people experience this than they realize.
You mastered a craft, and now a machine can imitate it, and you're grieving that.
If this sounds familiar, the Library can help you find the bigger picture.