Placeholder: What the hell, lady? I was about to close. Aw, did I step on your little sales pitch? What are you even, some kind of space archaeologist? Independent space archaeologist. That first part's important, since you know, I'm free to do whatever I want, unlike some ensigns around here. ( scoffs ) All right, fine. Whatever. Uh, Star fleet. Get your Star fleet. Prepare yourself for Warp 10 excitement. Discover the undiscovered country. How often do you get to collect dilithium? Oh, all the time, tons o What the hell, lady? I was about to close. Aw, did I step on your little sales pitch? What are you even, some kind of space archaeologist? Independent space archaeologist. That first part's important, since you know, I'm free to do whatever I want, unlike some ensigns around here. ( scoffs ) All right, fine. Whatever. Uh, Star fleet. Get your Star fleet. Prepare yourself for Warp 10 excitement. Discover the undiscovered country. How often do you get to collect dilithium? Oh, all the time, tons o

@generalpha

Prompt

What the hell, lady? I was about to close. Aw, did I step on your little sales pitch? What are you even, some kind of space archaeologist? Independent space archaeologist. That first part's important, since you know, I'm free to do whatever I want, unlike some ensigns around here. ( scoffs ) All right, fine. Whatever. Uh, Star fleet. Get your Star fleet. Prepare yourself for Warp 10 excitement. Discover the undiscovered country. How often do you get to collect dilithium? Oh, all the time, tons o

large hands

2 years ago

Generate Similar

Explore Similar

Model

Openjourney

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

512 × 768

Similar

Once I rose above the noise and confusion Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion I was soaring ever higher But I flew too high Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man Though my mind could think, I still was a mad man I hear the voices when I'm dreaming I can hear them say Carry on, my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more
Once I rose above the noise and confusion Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion I was soaring ever higher But I flew too high Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man Though my mind could think, I still was a mad man I hear the voices when I'm dreaming I can hear them say Carry on, my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more
But as Megan continued her journey, she realized that the power of the talisman was not without its challenges. The intoxicating allure of the sect's practices began to consume her, blurring the line between her newfound liberation and the responsibilities of everyday life. She found herself torn between her desire for exploration and the need to maintain a sense of balance in the outside world. As the experiences multiplied, Megan grappled with the question of where her true path lay. Was she m
Behold the visions you have seen. That which you have viewed. That which you now view. “Complex, isn’t it?” Viewing that which was, ye have seen the age of science and logic. They ruled them you know… Yes, ruled… Those bible-thumpers were put to rest, don’t ya know. And… From rubble and slime and filth… Science but… an Arcadian civilisation!!! Yes, yes… eh… They had a hand in you, too, laddie… Yes, they did! And wot do ye think happened? I’ll tell ye wot buddy ‘appened! For a millenium, science
There's more to living than only surviving Maybe I'm not there, but I'm still trying Though you hear me I don't think that you relate My will is something That you can't confiscate So forgive me, but I won't be frustrated By destruction in your eyes As you're staring at the sun
There's more to living than only surviving Maybe I'm not there, but I'm still trying Though you hear me I don't think that you relate My will is something That you can't confiscate So forgive me, but I won't be frustrated By destruction in your eyes As you're staring at the sun
Once I rose above the noise and confusion Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion I was soaring ever higher But I flew too high Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man Though my mind could think, I still was a mad man I hear the voices when I'm dreaming I can hear them say Carry on, my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more
Universal law is for lackeys, context is for kings
What the hell, lady? I was about to close. Aw, did I step on your little sales pitch? What are you even, some kind of space archaeologist? Independent space archaeologist. That first part's important, since you know, I'm free to do whatever I want, unlike some ensigns around here. ( scoffs ) All right, fine. Whatever. Uh, Star fleet. Get your Star fleet. Prepare yourself for Warp 10 excitement. Discover the undiscovered country. How often do you get to collect dilithium? Oh, all the time, tons o
DMT-style visuals dance before my eyes, the colors vibrant and intense. The dimensions flicker and morph, revealing glimpses of hidden truths and cosmic secrets. Everything becomes interconnected, a grand tapestry woven by the fabric of existence itself. But amidst the awe-inspiring beauty, there is a sense of unease. The protagonist begins to question his own sanity as he loses himself in the ever-shifting mazes of the multiverse. Reality bends and warps, twisting his perceptions and challengin
From The Comics Since 1945 by Brian Walker, published by Harry N. Abrams, 2002. Ah, the Web of Wyrd, a lesser-known symbol from the rich tapestry of Norse mythology. How intriguing it is to intertwine this concept with the complexities of collective memory. Let us weave a visual tapestry that merges these two realms of interconnectedness.Imagine, if you will, a grand and ancient loom, standing tall in the midst of a mystical landscape. Its frame is adorned with intricate Nordic designs, reminisc
Once I rose above the noise and confusion Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion I was soaring ever higher But I flew too high Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man Though my mind could think, I still was a mad man I hear the voices when I'm dreaming I can hear them say Carry on, my wayward son There'll be peace when you are done Lay your weary head to rest Don't you cry no more

© 2024 Stablecog, Inc.