Placeholder: Our dreams don’t belong to them Our dreams don’t belong to them

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@generalpha

Prompt

Our dreams don’t belong to them

large hands

2 years ago

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Model

Luna Diffusion

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

608 × 912

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Our dreams don’t belong to them
It shouldn’t be up to them to decide our future
Kat Dennings face of Dior
The rabbit (or Fibonacci) numbers form a sequence (a(1) = 1), 1, 2, 3, 5, 8,13,21,34,...,in which a(n)+2 =a(n+1) +a(n) for an y n=1,2,... . Find the greatest common divisor of the numbers a(100) and a(99).
Poetry has no place for a heart that's a whore And I'm young and I'm strong But I feel old and tired Overfired And I've been poked and stoked It's all smokethere's no more fire Only desire For you, whoever you are
open box of condoms on your bedside table
[coffee] In the Inn, the smiling hobbit worked behind the bar. Though small in stature, none was more joyful in service. His eyes, bright as sunrise and always upturned in mirth, inspected beans from distant lands. From the machine poured drinks like liquid gold. Each shot drew from him a chuckling sniff, scents of exotic hills filling his head. With care he textured cream, lips still smiling as lofty peaks crowned. Patrons gathered round pots steaming, laughter echoing as in a hobbit-h
[vintage style noisy scratches glitches, Shot the texture and then rewound the film and double exposed] Flight to the moon
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
As faerie Fiona swam back to the bank, water droplets glistening like diamonds upon her skin, she emerged with the grace of a water nymph rising from the depths. Her wings unfurled, water droplets cascading from them like liquid stars, and she stood before Deery, her presence a blend of moonlight and water's embrace. Deery approached, their hooves barely making a sound on the soft earth. They lowered their head, their opalescent nose nuzzling Fiona's cheek in a gesture of affection
[cover by Howard Chaykin for MAD Magazine, 1988] a hero running from imaginary monsters, only to slips on a banana peel and fall flat!
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