Waazy: When AI Composed My Grief
Waazy: When AI Composed My Grief
Three weeks after burying Scout's favorite tennis ball with him under the maple tree, I still couldn't touch the dented food bowl collecting dust in the utility room. Every grief blog suggested journaling, but ink smeared whenever tears hit the page. That's when Waazy's garish purple icon caught my eye during a 3AM app store spiral - promising to "transform emotions into melody." Skepticism warred with desperation as I typed: "Golden retriever. Sun-warmed fur smell. The way he'd bark at vacuum cleaners like they'd offended his ancestors."
The first generated track sounded like circus music for depressed clowns - all off-key accordions and jaunty tempos completely at odds with the heaviness in my chest. I nearly deleted it right there, but then noticed the mood intensity slider hiding in advanced settings. Cranking it to "melancholic" and swapping synths for cello samples changed everything. Suddenly the AI captured that hollow echo when his paws stopped clicking on hardwood floors at 5PM.
What followed felt like technological therapy. I'd whisper fragmented memories into my phone during commutes: "He always sneezed when excited," or "Stole my left sock every laundry day." Waazy's neural networks would spin these into haunting piano motifs within minutes. The real magic happened when I uploaded old voice notes - his distinctive "woof-whine" when begging for treats analyzed and transformed into harmonic vocal textures woven through the bridge. For the first time since euthanasia day, I could listen to his voice without collapsing.
But the app's limitations punched hard during the final mix. Automated mastering butchered the emotional climax where cellos swelled with Scout's cancer diagnosis memory - compressing dynamics into flatlined audio oatmeal. I spent hours manually overriding AI decisions, fighting against algorithms that prioritized technical perfection over raw vulnerability. That struggle became part of the process though; each stubborn EQ adjustment felt like wrestling meaning from the void.
Playing the finished track at his memorial shattered me. Not because it was polished - the AI still couldn't grasp the weight in pauses between notes - but because Waazy had translated my wordless anguish into something tangible. The way the melody stuttered then recovered mirrored Scout's last wobbling walk across the yard. Strangely, the app's failures made it more human; its glitches became spaces where my unfiltered sorrow leaked through the digital seams.
Keywords:Waazy,news,pet loss therapy,AI composition,grief processing
