Placeholder: 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 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

@generalpha

Prompt

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

large hands

1 year ago

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SDXL

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

3328 × 4992

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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
Behold the visions you have seen. That which you have viewed. That which you now view. “Complex, isn’t it?” Viewing that which was, ye have seen the age of science and logic. They ruled them you know… Yes, ruled… Those bible-thumpers were put to rest, don’t ya know. And… From rubble and slime and filth… Science but… an Arcadian civilisation!!! Yes, yes… eh… They had a hand in you, too, laddie… Yes, they did! And wot do ye think happened? I’ll tell ye wot buddy ‘appened! For a millenium, science
Wash away my troubles Wash away my pain With the rain in Shambala Wash away my sorrow Wash away my shame With the rain in Shambala
In this extraordinary tale, the Stardust became more than mere enchantment; it became a catalyst for personal growth and self-discovery. As the villagers of Fantasia journeyed through their shared illusions, they learned to see the world with new eyes, appreciating the beauty in the mundane and finding wonder in the simplest of moments. And so, in the midst of their dreamlike adventure, the inhabitants of Fantasia discovered that the true magic was not in the Stardust itself, but in their abilit
Our dreams don’t belong to them
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
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
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
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
With hearts pounding and anticipation coursing through their veins, the team entered the vibrant red zone. It was as if they had stepped into a surreal painting, a living masterpiece born from the depths of Roger Dean's imagination. The atmosphere crackled with an otherworldly energy, enveloping them in a kaleidoscope of colors that seemed to breathe and pulsate. Clad in their translucent red uniforms, the team moved forward with an air of purpose. Each step they took resonated with the harmonio
With her eyes closed, Fiona felt the currents gently guide her, their gentle touch echoing the rhythm of her heart. The moon above seemed to pulse with each beat, as if the world itself was attuned to her presence. She reveled in this moment of serenity, feeling the weight of the world lift from her shoulders, leaving behind only the sensation of water's tender embrace. Meanwhile, on the bank of the lake, Deery watched Fiona with an expression of sheer wonder. The deer's opalescent fur glistene
With hearts pounding and anticipation coursing through their veins, the team entered the vibrant red zone. It was as if they had stepped into a surreal painting, a living masterpiece born from the depths of Roger Dean's imagination. The atmosphere crackled with an otherworldly energy, enveloping them in a kaleidoscope of colors that seemed to breathe and pulsate. Clad in their translucent red uniforms, the team moved forward with an air of purpose. Each step they took resonated with the harmonio

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