Placeholder: Ici, chacun sait ce qu’il veut, ce qu’il fait quand il passe… Ami, si tu tombes un ami sort de l’ombre à ta place. Demain, du sang noir séchera au grand soleil sur les routes. Sifflez compagnons, dans la nuit la liberté nous écoute… Ici, chacun sait ce qu’il veut, ce qu’il fait quand il passe… Ami, si tu tombes un ami sort de l’ombre à ta place. Demain, du sang noir séchera au grand soleil sur les routes. Sifflez compagnons, dans la nuit la liberté nous écoute…

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@generalpha

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Ici, chacun sait ce qu’il veut, ce qu’il fait quand il passe… Ami, si tu tombes un ami sort de l’ombre à ta place. Demain, du sang noir séchera au grand soleil sur les routes. Sifflez compagnons, dans la nuit la liberté nous écoute…

distorted image, malformed body, malformed fingers, ugly, malformed members

28 days ago

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SSD-1B

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7

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1024 × 1024

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streetlight effect
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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
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Darkness fell as they entered the looming marshes. Mist curled around twisted trees like spectral fingers. Alex shivered, every cracked branch an impending threat. A piercing cry shattered the eerie quiet. They raced toward the sound, emerging in a small clearing. There, suspended above a foggy pool, hung Mikołaj - tiny fists beating futilely against thin air. Below, hulking Spas clawed his way from the water, face twisted in hunger. But Alex saw only her prey: the demon who tormented her mother
[very impressive high res masterpiece in Kodak Eastman 5247, scene by László Krasznahorkai] echoes through the air, a relentless drumbeat of death and desperation.
Darkness fell as they entered the looming marshes. Mist curled around twisted trees like spectral fingers. Alex shivered, every cracked branch an impending threat. A piercing cry shattered the eerie quiet. They raced toward the sound, emerging in a small clearing. There, suspended above a foggy pool, hung Mikołaj - tiny fists beating futilely against thin air. Below, hulking Spas clawed his way from the water, face twisted in hunger. But Alex saw only her prey: the demon who tormented her mother
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Solo, voy con mi pena Sola, va mi condena Correr es mi destino Por no llevar papel
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