Placeholder: 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 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

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@generalpha

Prompt

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

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1 year ago

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Kandinsky

Guidance Scale

7

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608 × 912

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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
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
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
It shouldn’t be up to them to decide our future
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
Deadline. Another damn deadline. What amazes you most is that you haven't become a hack. Pressure. The constant pressure. Keep those worlds coming. The weirder the better. It gets worse every year. They always want something new. Bigger monsters. Stronger heroes. You dig deeper into my dreams. You feel it, you know... whatever I draw... You know you can stop it... You won't stop it. You live through your dreams. You escape. They
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
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
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
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
Deadline. Another damn deadline. What amazes you most is that you haven't become a hack. Pressure. The constant pressure. Keep those worlds coming. The weirder the better. It gets worse every year. They always want something new. Bigger monsters. Stronger heroes. You dig deeper into my dreams. You feel it, you know... whatever I draw... You know you can stop it... You won't stop it. You live through your dreams. You escape. They
In a place where no one ever came close to dreaming about... a place from a foaming brain, there is a tiny ripple of truth that duplicates sanity to reality... existence of self-pity and triumph! This is a long gone dream in which only lost souls find mercy from a god of an insane creation! Blowing cold winds that come from an uneven breathing pattern warm the frigid core of the sun! Rotting brain from inside the brittle bone of an old branch impatiently waiting to outgrow the sky… You are lost
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