A Heartfelt Story About Betrayal, Memory Loss, and the Blockchain That Fixed Everything
Let me tell you about my relationship with ChatGPT.
We had something special, you know? I'd spend hours teaching it my voice. My preferences. The way I like things phrased. It would nod along, generate perfect responses, and make me feel like a writing god.
Then I'd close the laptop.
The next morning? Complete stranger. Blank stare. "I'm sorry, I don't have context for that conversation."
It was like Groundhog Day, except instead of Bill Murray learning life lessons, I was just repeatedly explaining that yes, I do in fact prefer bullet points over paragraphs.
The "Your AI Isn't Dumb, It's Just Forgetful" Revelation
One day, while staring at my screen after my AI assistant once again pretended we'd never met, I had an epiphany. The problem wasn't intelligence. It was memory.
We've built these incredibly sophisticated language models that can write poetry, debug code, and argue philosophy. And then we've given them the working memory of a goldfish. Five seconds of brilliance, then complete reset .
Somewhere, a developer at Vanar must have had the exact same moment of frustration. Because they built myNeutron—and suddenly, everything changed .
The "Second Brain" That Actually Works
Here's what myNeutron does, in non-marketing-speak:
You know how when you're researching something, you have seventeen tabs open, three notes apps, and a growing sense of existential dread about information management?
MyNeutron says: stop. Upload everything—PDFs, web pages, chat histories, voice memos. It compresses them into these "Seeds" using their Neutron technology . Then you can ask questions, and it just... knows. Not keyword matching. Actual understanding. Semantic memory .
A community member on LinkedIn put it perfectly: "Save pages/files/notes/chats once, reuse across AI tools, and stop starting from scratch" .
Another said it "keeps context and ongoing work intact, so conversations compound instead of restarting" .
This is the kind of boring, practical magic that actually changes how you work.
The "Wait, This Is Blockchain?" Moment
Here's the part that still makes my brain tingle. This whole system—the memory, the compression, the permanence—it's built on a blockchain. Vanar Chain, specifically .
I know what you're thinking. "Oh great, another crypto thing I have to learn."
But here's the twist: you don't. The blockchain part is invisible. It just works in the background, ensuring your memories stay yours forever, immutable, un-deletable, un-censorable .
Mike Brown from KuCoin articulated this perfectly: "Adoption doesn't happen when people learn crypto. It happens when they forget they're using crypto" .
That's the whole game. Build something useful enough that people use it without caring about the underlying technology.
The Community That Actually Builds Things
What strikes me about the Vanar community is the lack of... screaming. You know the typical crypto community—all rocket emojis and "when moon" and fighting with anyone who dares question the project.
Vanar's vibe is different. On LinkedIn, actual builders are sharing actual experiences:
"Architecture alone doesn't prove a network is real. The old sequence (build → explain → wait) breaks the moment real users show up" .
"The real story starts when users rely on the product. Benchmarks and partnerships don't expose reality; users do" .
These aren't moon bois. These are people who've watched too many projects promise the world and deliver a PDF.
The "30 Billion Users" Debate
Vanar talks about bringing 3 billion people to Web3. It's audacious. It's probably impossible. It's definitely the kind of goal that attracts skeptics who will remind you every day that Web3 doesn't even have 30 million real users yet .
The community knows this. They're not naive. One comment I saw summed up the healthy skepticism: "30亿用户目标听听就行了,现在Web3连3亿真实用户都没有呢" . Rough translation: "The 3 billion user goal sounds nice, but Web3 doesn't even have 300 million real users yet."
But here's the thing about audacious goals: they change how you build. If you're aiming for 3 billion, you can't build for crypto natives. You have to build for normal people. The ones who don't know what gas fees are and don't want to learn .
That's why Virtua exists. That's why VGN exists. That's why myNeutron exists . Not to impress other crypto people. To give normal people something they actually want to use.
The Bottom Line
My relationship with AI is better now. MyNeutron remembers everything. I close tabs, switch tools, come back days later—the context is still there. Conversations compound. Knowledge accumulates. I feel like I'm actually building something instead of constantly rebuilding foundations .
The blockchain part? I barely think about it. Which, I'm increasingly convinced, is exactly the point.
As one community observer noted: "Vanar doesn't feel rushed. There's a sense of pacing. A sense of layering. A sense of building foundations before narratives" .
That's rare in crypto. Rarer still is delivering actual products people can use while everyone else is still arguing about which L2 has the best memes.
So yeah, my AI and I are friends again. We're building a shared memory palace, one compressed Seed at a time. And honestly? I can't picture my workflow without it anymore .
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go upload my therapy notes. Something about getting emotionally attached to language models. The AI promises to remember forever.
@Vanarchain $VANRY #Vanar #AIMemory #Web3Utility #CryptoHumor #DigitalFriendship