Placeholder: 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 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

Back to Profile

@generalpha

Prompt

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

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

11 months ago

Generate Similar

Explore Similar

Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

3328 × 4992

Similar

Lost in the labyrinth of politics, Alice walks with weary steps. Her futile campaign echoes in the hollow void. A tapping, a haunting presence, disrupts her futile musings. The absurd walrus emerges, foreboding and mocking her aspirations. "Nevermore," it utters, a hollow refrain of desolation. Alice, trapped in the cycle of questioning and despair, finds no solace. The walrus, perched upon Pallas' bust, symbolizes her torment. In the end, she is left alone, condemned to the relentless grip of f
[scifi, a woman] Who was I? Where was I?… The landscape was totally unknown to me, even my body was unfamiliar. What forces brought me here? I searched my mind for memories… There was something there, but it was too clouded… A name… I scanned the horizon. A distant structure rose out of the mists. As evening approached I came upon an enigmatic oasis with a fountain.
[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
As she sits there, the weight of her victories and the burden of her quest pressing upon her shoulders, she feels the ancient whispers of the forgotten throne room reaching out to her. The spirits of the fallen kings and queens who once ruled this land seem to stir in the shadows, their presence a haunting reminder of the sacrifices made in the name of honor and glory.
Lost in the labyrinth of politics, Alice walks with weary steps. Her futile campaign echoes in the hollow void. A tapping, a haunting presence, disrupts her futile musings. The absurd walrus emerges, foreboding and mocking her aspirations. "Nevermore," it utters, a hollow refrain of desolation. Alice, trapped in the cycle of questioning and despair, finds no solace. The walrus, perched upon Pallas' bust, symbolizes her torment. In the end, she is left alone, condemned to the relentless grip of f
In a surreal twist, Maria Magdalena encounters an ancient soldier, a spectral figure who seeks shelter in an abandoned home. Their encounter in this twilight zone reveals the depth of her inner turmoil and the resilience of her spirit. But alas, the pressure of deadlines and the demands of the art world threaten to overwhelm Maria Magdalena. The constant need for something new and different drives her to the edge. She battles with the voices in her head, struggling to find her unique voice amids
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
I will dive deeper into my dreams, channeling the strange and the surreal onto the page. The story will unfold, layer by layer, revealing a psychological thriller unlike any other. It will be a rollercoaster ride through the corridors of the mind, where reality and illusion collide. With every stroke of my pen, I bring the visions to life. The monsters, the mysteries, the mind-bending landscapes—they all take shape on the paper. The words flow, fueled by the pressure and the passion. The deadlin
In a surreal twist, Maria Magdalena encounters an ancient soldier, a spectral figure who seeks shelter in an abandoned home. Their encounter in this twilight zone reveals the depth of her inner turmoil and the resilience of her spirit. But alas, the pressure of deadlines and the demands of the art world threaten to overwhelm Maria Magdalena. The constant need for something new and different drives her to the edge. She battles with the voices in her head, struggling to find her unique voice amids
[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
[Renaissance, a Lady] Who was I? Where was I?… The landscape was totally unknown to me, even my body was unfamiliar. What forces brought me here? I searched my mind for memories… There was something there, but it was too clouded… A name… I scanned the horizon. A distant structure rose out of the mists. As evening approached I came upon an enigmatic oasis with a fountain.
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
Terms of Service • Privacy Policy

© 2024 Stablecog, Inc.