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@generalpha

Prompt

this human being is not aware to be a human being

distorted image, malformed body, malformed fingers

7 months ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

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[photo shoot of Sandokan by Sergio Sollima, (1976)] In the gritty streets of Alabama, where the humid air hung heavy with the scent of sweat and secrets, a lone figure stands before the weather-beaten door of a rundown motel. The silhouette of the Dharma Bum, a former gangsta covered by tattoos. To the untrained eye, it was just another shabby building in a forgotten corner of the city. But to those in the know, it was a temple of sorts, a sanctuary for those seeking solace in the chaos of urban
[hammer horror] Uncle Fester Addams on the beach in California [Versace]
[very impressive high res masterpiece in Kodak Eastman 5247, scene by László Krasznahorkai] the Black or Afro-American sheriff in the Wild West. A tale as rare and powerful as a shooting star in the night sky. Picture this: a lone figure, standing tall in the dusty streets of a frontier town, a badge gleaming on their chest, defying the odds and challenging the stereotypes of the time.
[very impressive high res masterpiece in Kodak Eastman 5247, bokeh scene by Stanley Kubrick] Ip Man Shaolin gangsta monk covered by tattoos waiting outside, on a stone doorstep, he menaces the camera
You will learn to Obey!
a poet reading a book on a mountain, words are the scream of silence [Jean Nicolas Arthur Rimbaud est un poète français ]
She moves with silent grace through the winding alleyways of the medieval city, a master of the arts of thieves and illusion. Clad in dark garb that blends seamlessly with the shadows, her eyes gleam with a hunger for novelty and adventure. The city is her playground, its secrets and treasures ripe for the taking. The cobblestone streets echo with the sounds of revelry and commerce, but she remains unseen, a phantom slipping through the cracks of society.
I cannot go forward I cannot return And the land in front don't want me Look the land behind me burn
In the ethereal realm above, where clouds drift lazily and the sky stretches endlessly, there sits a figure cloaked in mystery. The man, his features obscured by the haze of smoke, exudes an air of otherworldly wisdom and intrigue. With a cigar clenched between his teeth, he leans back against the billowing cloud, creating perfect rings of smoke that dance and twist in the celestial breeze. *%!))))*&%
[high res photo of a medieval scene in the shadows and the fog of a forest] Lilian follows at the prescribed distance, her footsteps light but purposeful. The cold doesn't seem to slow her as much as you might expect—whether from exhaustion overriding discomfort or some deeper fortitude remains unclear. She glances at you often, always ahead, though her posture never fully relaxes. Even when you walk steadily forward, she looks left and right, scanning the mountain's shadowed crevices with an in
Don Quixote sitting on a bench, aquarelle by Moebius
[modern man in tuxedo] 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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