Placeholder: [very impressive high res masterpiece in Kodak Eastman 5247, scene by László Krasznahorkai] My sister, by the chiming kinks Of the Atlantic Ocean, takes in light. Beyond her, wreathed in algae, links on links Of breakers meet and disconnect, foam through bracelets Of seabirds.The wind sinks. She does not feel the change At once. It will take time. My sister, Stirring briefly to arrange Her towel, browns like a chicken, under fire. [very impressive high res masterpiece in Kodak Eastman 5247, scene by László Krasznahorkai] My sister, by the chiming kinks Of the Atlantic Ocean, takes in light. Beyond her, wreathed in algae, links on links Of breakers meet and disconnect, foam through bracelets Of seabirds.The wind sinks. She does not feel the change At once. It will take time. My sister, Stirring briefly to arrange Her towel, browns like a chicken, under fire.

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@generalpha

Prompt

[very impressive high res masterpiece in Kodak Eastman 5247, scene by László Krasznahorkai] My sister, by the chiming kinks Of the Atlantic Ocean, takes in light. Beyond her, wreathed in algae, links on links Of breakers meet and disconnect, foam through bracelets Of seabirds.The wind sinks. She does not feel the change At once. It will take time. My sister, Stirring briefly to arrange Her towel, browns like a chicken, under fire.

distorted image, malformed body, malformed fingers

4 months ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

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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?
The rain came down in torrents, each droplet a tiny missile assaulting her senses. The salty spray of the sea mingled with the tears that streamed down her cheeks, indistinguishable in their anguish. Nature mirrored her own inner turmoil, a symphony of chaos echoing the tempestuous thoughts that consumed her.
Oh, surfer les vagues, c’est ma liberté, Les rouleaux me portent, je suis prêt à rêver. Gauches et droites, un ballet enchanté, Sur cette mer vivante, je suis émerveillé.
I am stranded on the sea With an unknown destiny (Como una raya en el mar) No home to return to Nobody waiting for me (Como una raya en el mar)
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?
The rain came down in torrents, each droplet a tiny missile assaulting her senses. The salty spray of the sea mingled with the tears that streamed down her cheeks, indistinguishable in their anguish. Nature mirrored her own inner turmoil, a symphony of chaos echoing the tempestuous thoughts that consumed her.
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The in-between that space desertion caught; she breathed in as the important cold bit through her heated skin. It meant flesh shiver slow that pale, internal agony in silent waves that crawled multi-layered echoes. You did not move, bare and all-but-ended instincts still left that time filled with the need; you understood the fundamentals, purged of breath until red wet vision and heightened to equal thought. There: the well solid. Then beneath the moonlight blackened fractures, trauma just from
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?
Even in dreams, panic crept in.
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
[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.
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