Prompt: An empty cassette tape rolls along, coiling like a snake. Hissing softly off earthen walls: Sound ricocheted, delayed. An echo from a distant frozen place. A stasis built to break like glass; to slide towards sand as ocean tide. A single note of rising built from ignorance of breaking. Harmonizing with the low hum Outside that sometimes wanders into this house, into these ears, for a visit to the land of Awareness made Separate. The tone of one never needing to be more. The implied response of absorbent shore. The hum's source Remains An unknown force. Rite Now, Trailing a tail of seventeen hundred days of Nows - of seventeen hundred risings and fallings of nearby stars and planets - My tracks are leading out Along with the roll of the empty cassette. From time to time the refrigerator chimes forth: Cacophonies of high horns sustain-pedaling towards nothing more than Now. Drones of the nuns and monks of the coming singularity. Pixelated Pronghorn. Electronic Elk. Bioengineered bugles. Windows Ten tin whistles. Synthetic piano strings snapping and recoiling to be restrung by caged johns with robotic rubbers. Such utter beauty.
Prompt: An empty cassette tape rolls along, coiling like a snake. Hissing softly off earthen walls: Sound ricocheted, delayed. An echo from a distant frozen place. A stasis built to break like glass; to slide towards sand as ocean tide. A single note of rising built from ignorance of breaking. Harmonizing with the low hum Outside that sometimes wanders into this house, into these ears, for a visit to the land of Awareness made Separate. The tone of one never needing to be more. The implied response of absorbent shore. The hum's source Remains An unknown force. Rite Now, Trailing a tail of seventeen hundred days of Nows - of seventeen hundred risings and fallings of nearby stars and planets - My tracks are leading out Along with the roll of the empty cassette. From time to time the refrigerator chimes forth: Cacophonies of high horns sustain-pedaling towards nothing more than Now. Drones of the nuns and monks of the coming singularity. Pixelated Pronghorn. Electronic Elk. Bioengineered bugles. Windows Ten tin whistles. Synthetic piano strings snapping and recoiling to be restrung by caged johns with robotic rubbers. Such utter beauty.
Would you like to report this Dream as inappropriate?
Prompt:
An empty cassette tape rolls along, coiling like a snake. Hissing softly off earthen walls: Sound ricocheted, delayed. An echo from a distant frozen place. A stasis built to break like glass; to slide towards sand as ocean tide. A single note of rising built from ignorance of breaking. Harmonizing with the low hum Outside that sometimes wanders into this house, into these ears, for a visit to the land of Awareness made Separate. The tone of one never needing to be more. The implied response of absorbent shore. The hum's source Remains An unknown force. Rite Now, Trailing a tail of seventeen hundred days of Nows - of seventeen hundred risings and fallings of nearby stars and planets - My tracks are leading out Along with the roll of the empty cassette. From time to time the refrigerator chimes forth: Cacophonies of high horns sustain-pedaling towards nothing more than Now. Drones of the nuns and monks of the coming singularity. Pixelated Pronghorn. Electronic Elk. Bioengineered bugles. Windows Ten tin whistles. Synthetic piano strings snapping and recoiling to be restrung by caged johns with robotic rubbers. Such utter beauty.
Started from image:
Dream Level: is increased each time when you "Go Deeper" into the dream. Each new level is harder to achieve and
takes more iterations than the one before.
Rare Deep Dream: is any dream which went deeper than level 6.
Deep Dream
You cannot go deeper into someone else's dream. You must create your own.
Deep Dream
Currently going deeper is available only for Deep Dreams.
Artist
