Placeholder: Seemingly lastless, don't mean You can ask us Pushing down the relative Bringing out your higher self Think of the fine times, pushing Down the better few, instead of Bringing out the clues, to what the World and everything anger to, brace Yourself with the grace of ease I know this world ain't what it seems Seemingly lastless, don't mean You can ask us Pushing down the relative Bringing out your higher self Think of the fine times, pushing Down the better few, instead of Bringing out the clues, to what the World and everything anger to, brace Yourself with the grace of ease I know this world ain't what it seems

@generalpha

Prompt

Seemingly lastless, don't mean You can ask us Pushing down the relative Bringing out your higher self Think of the fine times, pushing Down the better few, instead of Bringing out the clues, to what the World and everything anger to, brace Yourself with the grace of ease I know this world ain't what it seems

statue, doubles, twins, entangled fingers, Worst Quality, ugly, ugly face, watermarks, undetailed, unrealistic, double limbs, worst hands, worst body, Disfigured, double, twin, dialog, book, multiple fingers, deformed, deformity, ugliness, poorly drawn face, extra_limb, extra limbs, bad hands, wrong hands, poorly drawn hands, messy drawing, cropped head, bad anatomy, lowres, extra digit, fewer digit, worst quality, low quality, jpeg artifacts, watermark, missing fingers, cropped, poorly drawn

2 months ago

Generate Similar

Explore Similar

Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

Similar

or through observatory glass I glimpse your ethereal form gliding betwixt stellar spheres, a lunar nymph amid the dark. Here amongst dust-clad worlds and comet trails your dancing holds court, cerulean skin agleam where gamma rays caress in radiance to shame any photonic form. Sable tresses wave like nebulae in frictionless ballet, as ocher eyes scan for signs of life within lithic landscapes void of green. One hand grips comet-lance akin to staff of old, yet its photon kiss can shatter mountain
Time seemed to distort as Sophie floated alone in the unending void. She carefully rationed her meager supplies, spending long hours sleeping to conserve oxygen. But even in dreams, panic crept in. She found herself gasping for breath in a sudden waking, the pod walls crushing inward as the air grew thin. Checking readings only heightened her fear - reserves dropping faster than expected. Sophie scrabbled through storage for anything that could boost the failing life support, coming up empty. De
or through observatory glass I glimpse your ethereal form gliding betwixt stellar spheres, a lunar nymph amid the dark. Here amongst dust-clad worlds and comet trails your dancing holds court, cerulean skin agleam where gamma rays caress in radiance to shame any photonic form. Sable tresses wave like nebulae in frictionless ballet, as ocher eyes scan for signs of life within lithic landscapes void of green. One hand grips comet-lance akin to staff of old, yet its photon kiss can shatter mountain
Seemingly lastless, don't mean You can ask us Pushing down the relative Bringing out your higher self Think of the fine times, pushing Down the better few, instead of Bringing out the clues, to what the World and everything anger to, brace Yourself with the grace of ease I know this world ain't what it seems
Follow your emotions anywhere Is it building magic in the air? Never let your feelings get you down Open up your eyes and look around It's just an illusion Could it be that... it's just an illusion? Putting me back in all this confusion? Could it be that. it's just an illusion, now? Could it be that... it's just an illusion?
Sable braids stream moon-bright in zero-g, shedding faerie starshine where sterile alloys drink not its luminance. Electrically keen eyes scan for sparks of spirit in these circuits sapped of soul, their amber gleam a beacon to any watching. Your rippling limbs maneuver weightless 'mid girders and gangways in a waltz no wires or circuits can mimic. At last your sylvan feet light upon padded platform where grey-clad workers toil in numb lockstep, drained of will and wonder. Then like pollen on ph
Day, the glorious light of the Creative Universe, is sent by the Noble Beings; it is beloved of all, a source of hope and happiness to rich and poor, and of service to all
stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand — How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep — while I weep! O God! Can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream?
As twilight deepened, the stars began to emerge, twinkling in the ink-black sky like shards of diamond against velvet. Scarlett's eyes traced the constellations, finding comfort in their familiar patterns. The vastness of the universe above mirrored the vastness of the land below, reminding her of her place in this grand tapestry of existence. In this moment, Scarlett "Silver Spurs" felt a profound connection to the land. She understood that the landscape held stories untold, secrets waiting t
With a deep breath, dearie Fiona let herself be embraced by the water's embrace, her form becoming one with its liquid embrace. The feeling was ethereal, as if the lake itself was a conduit to another realm. She glided with a fluid grace, her movements a reflection of the dance she and Deery had shared in the forest. As the water enveloped her, Fiona's hair fanned out like strands of moonlit silver, creating an otherworldly halo around her. Her skin seemed to shimmer with a natural radiance
Day, the glorious light of the Creative Universe, is sent by the Noble Beings; it is beloved of all, a source of hope and happiness to rich and poor, and of service to all
Sable braids stream moon-bright in zero-g, shedding faerie starshine where sterile alloys drink not its luminance. Electrically keen eyes scan for sparks of spirit in these circuits sapped of soul, their amber gleam a beacon to any watching. Your rippling limbs maneuver weightless 'mid girders and gangways in a waltz no wires or circuits can mimic. Och gentle huntress, guide lost souls through these barren byways as only your wildwood spirit can! With faerie light that puts circuits to shame, re

© 2024 Stablecog, Inc.