Placeholder: Not my mess to clean’ Not my mess to clean’

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@generalpha

Prompt

Not my mess to clean’

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1 year ago

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Model

SDXL

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

832 × 1248

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Not my mess to clean’
Imagine having a large collection of books and tapes, but some of them contain errors or biases. These flaws introduce incorrect information and spurious correlations. For example, books with a specific font style might have inaccuracies unrelated to the content. To overcome this, you want to extract the genuine knowledge common to all the books and tapes, disregarding the flawed details. The goal is to find a representation that captures the underlying concepts, free from biases. Similarly, in
[Tilt-Shift Photography] The world above was a distant legend, whispered among Cuties around flickering campfires. They spoke of a sun that had vanished from the sky generations ago, replaced by a colossal fungal overgrowth that blotted out the heavens. What lay beyond this fungal wasteland, none could say for certain. The world outside was a place of myths and nightmares, a place where the air didn't taste of decay, and the earth wasn't a sea of mycelium. Luna's senses were honed to perfection
A plume of smoke rises in the sky of Gaza City during an Israeli airstrike, Oct. 9, 2023, as Israel’s military relentlessly pounded the Palestinian territory overnight and into the day as fighting with Hamas continued. [Mahmud Hams/AFP]
Not my mess to clean’
[Tilt-Shift Photography] The circuit board swam into soft focus through the lens, minute details piercing the blurred foreground and background. Golden traces connected components in miniature precision, fibers stretching taut as fairy-line across the substrate. Silicon chips clustered in pleasing arrangement, circuit diagrams etched upon them in intricate patterns too fine for the eye. Mushrooms colonized arrays with pin-prick precision, capped polypores blurring sockets packed with solder ball
Through the broken windows of abandoned buildings, glimpses of the city's past glimmered like fading memories. Faded billboards advertising products that no longer existed, cracked movie posters from an era long gone, and remnants of a bygone society that had crumbled under the weight of its own hubris. Yet, amidst the ruins, there were pockets of resistance, small enclaves of hope that refused to surrender. Underground networks of rebels and freedom fighters plotted and strategized, their spiri
Imagine having a large collection of books and tapes, but some of them contain errors or biases. These flaws introduce incorrect information and spurious correlations. For example, books with a specific font style might have inaccuracies unrelated to the content. To overcome this, you want to extract the genuine knowledge common to all the books and tapes, disregarding the flawed details. The goal is to find a representation that captures the underlying concepts, free from biases. Similarly, in
Not my mess to clean’
The words swirl in my mind as I sit at my desk, surrounded by the chaotic mess of papers and empty coffee cups. The weight of the deadline presses down on me, but my imagination soars. I close my eyes and let the visions take hold. I see a vast expanse of doors stretching infinitely in all directions. Each door leads to a different dimension, a different reality. Some doors are ordinary, blending into the background, while others shimmer and pulsate with an otherworldly energy. I imagine my prot
Lee Miller, the intrepid war photographer, finds herself standing in Hitler's bathroom. The chilling history of the place weighs heavy on her as she gazes at the empty tub once occupied by the tyrant himself. The stark reality of the room, once a sanctuary for evil, now a haunting relic of the past, surrounds her. Lee's camera hangs at her side, a silent witness to the solemn moment. She steps closer to the bathtub, her reflection staring back at her from the polished surface. The echoes of war
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