Placeholder: I'm tired of fighting another man's pointless war So please keep up with it just like you have before I can tell by the look, you mean what you say Like a sentimental crook, it's tough to get away If it even would matter, I would play every part But I'm too overeager and I just false start Oh sister of pearl, I wouldn't change you for the world I'm tired of fighting another man's pointless war So please keep up with it just like you have before I can tell by the look, you mean what you say Like a sentimental crook, it's tough to get away If it even would matter, I would play every part But I'm too overeager and I just false start Oh sister of pearl, I wouldn't change you for the world

@generalpha

Prompt

I'm tired of fighting another man's pointless war So please keep up with it just like you have before I can tell by the look, you mean what you say Like a sentimental crook, it's tough to get away If it even would matter, I would play every part But I'm too overeager and I just false start Oh sister of pearl, I wouldn't change you for the world

large hands

1 year ago

Generate Similar

Explore Similar

Model

22h Diffusion

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

512 × 768

Similar

You say my time here has been some sort of joke That I've been messing around Some sort of incubating period For when I really come around but I'm cracking up And you have no idea No idea how it feels to be on your own In your own home with the fucking phone And the mother of gloom
[photography by Titian, Rembrandt van Rijn, by Jeremy Mann, Luis Royo,] Within the shelter of the crumbling building, embraced by the storm's symphony, Maria Magdalena and the machines forged an unexpected bond. Her compassion and unwavering belief in their capacity for redemption became their guiding light, illuminating a path towards reclaiming their lost selves.As the rain pelted against the broken windows, the machines stood alongside Maria Magdalena, their once cold exteriors warmed by her
"i feel pain, i feel it, i feel that i am in Hell" You say: "You have to be honest, i will not help you if you lie to me" The man says: "You have to be honest, i will not help you if you lie to me" The man says: "When i felt the truck losing control, i saw a shadow, and a black cloud above me, they were very strange, and they were moving really fast. "When i felt the truck losing control, i saw a shadow, and a black cloud above me, they were very strange, and they were moving really fast.
Wednesday Addams kept close to Morticia's side. Though still in her usual somber colors, the young girl had chosen to dress according to Dior's aesthetic rather than her family's customary severe style. Wednesday wore a fit-and-flare dress hitting below the knees, made of finely ribbed wool in a muted charcoal. Three-quarter sleeves and a high lace collar lent it an air of mystery. At the waist was tied a wide sash of deepest navy silk, swaying gently as she walked. On her narrow feet were oxfor
[photography by Titian, Rembrandt van Rijn, by Jeremy Mann, Luis Royo,] As the storm unleashed its full fury upon the town, rain poured down in torrents, washing away the grime and decay that had settled upon the machines. Maria Magdalena extended a hand, her touch infused with warmth and understanding. One by one, the machines lowered their weapons, their metallic armor clanging against the ground.In that moment, amidst the chaos and destruction, a fragile bond formed between Maria Magdalena an
Lost in the labyrinth of politics, Alice treads with weary steps. Her small, futile campaign a mere echo in the void. A tapping, a haunting specter, disrupts her futile contemplations. The walrus appears, absurd and foreboding, mocking her aspirations. "Nevermore," it utters, a hollow refrain of desolation. Alice, trapped in an endless cycle of questioning and despair, finds no respite. The walrus, perched upon the bust of Pallas, a symbol of her torment. She pleads for solace, but the walrus, a
[modern] A woman in tuxedo around a pond
Give them one of those captivating styles... Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Solzhenitsyn... Yes... a psychological journey... channel Gogol with a touch of Orwell... blend in a little Cold War... sure... surreal events in a Soviet town... a man encounters a phantom trooper lurking in an abandoned factory... "Twilight Zone." Now... what do they look like? No! Not that! Did that before-- What? No, not that way! Damn deadlines. They're throwing me off completely. Too much pressure. Mixing up the scenes! Too
I picture her zooming through the gloomy back alleys of the urban sprawl on her rusty cityscape cruiser, tatty leather jacket flapping in the smoggy winds. Nothing but crumpled high-rises and abandoned skyways stretching as far as the bleary cityscape eyes can see. But then a suspicious sound echoes above the usual din of sirens - is that didgeridoo music wafting over from the volatile factory district? She twists the grimy throttle and speeds towards the commotion through the dystopian cityscap
[photography by Titian, Rembrandt van Rijn, by Jeremy Mann, Luis Royo,] Within the shelter of the crumbling building, embraced by the storm's symphony, Maria Magdalena and the machines forged an unexpected bond. Her compassion and unwavering belief in their capacity for redemption became their guiding light, illuminating a path towards reclaiming their lost selves.As the rain pelted against the broken windows, the machines stood alongside Maria Magdalena, their once cold exteriors warmed by her
Wednesday Addams wore a fit-and-flare dress hitting below the knees, made of finely ribbed wool in a muted charcoal. Three-quarter sleeves and a high lace collar lent it an air of mystery. At the waist was tied a wide sash of deepest navy silk, swaying gently as she walked. On her narrow feet were oxford shoes the color of stormclouds, laced up to her ankles. A felt hat the same gunmetal hue covered her dark bob, its slight brim casting deepening shadows across her pale features.
Wash away my troubles Wash away my pain With the rain in Shambala Wash away my sorrow Wash away my shame With the rain in Shambala Ah ooh yeah

© 2024 Stablecog, Inc.