Prompt: How can one ever tell if their depression is rational, or if it is the product of an event, or just a chemical imbalance? Is there really any difference? After years of work with a psychologist and psychiatrist, it appears that my moods have very little to do with reality unfolding around me. Not to say it is all chemical and without cause. That is part of it. Another part of it is that I am more likely to be affected by dreams, irrational day dreams, or ruminating on hypothetical things than I am to be affected by reality. While it is good to learn about myself, it makes me feel like few can relate. Indeed, the explanation is never met with understanding.
Navigating the Depths: Understanding Emotional Triggers
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AIVision
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1024 X 1024
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Prompt: How can one ever tell if their depression is rational, or if it is the product of an event, or just a chemical imbalance? Is there really any difference? After years of work with a psychologist and psychiatrist, it appears that my moods have very little to do with reality unfolding around me. Not to say it is all chemical and without cause. That is part of it. Another part of it is that I am more likely to be affected by dreams, irrational day dreams, or ruminating on hypothetical things than I am to be affected by reality. While it is good to learn about myself, it makes me feel like few can relate. Indeed, the explanation is never met with understanding.
Prompt: How can one ever tell if their depression is rational, or if it is the product of an event, or just a chemical imbalance? Is there really any difference? After years of work with a psychologist and psychiatrist, it appears that my moods have very little to do with reality unfolding around me. Not to say it is all chemical and without cause. That is part of it. Another part of it is that I am more likely to be affected by dreams, irrational day dreams, or ruminating on hypothetical things than I am to be affected by reality. While it is good to learn about myself, it makes me feel like few can relate. Indeed, the explanation is never met with understanding.
Prompt: How can one ever tell if their depression is rational, or if it is the product of an event, or just a chemical imbalance? Is there really any difference? After years of work with a psychologist and psychiatrist, it appears that my moods have very little to do with reality unfolding around me. Not to say it is all chemical and without cause. That is part of it. Another part of it is that I am more likely to be affected by dreams, irrational day dreams, or ruminating on hypothetical things than I am to be affected by reality. While it is good to learn about myself, it makes me feel like few can relate. Indeed, the explanation is never met with understanding.
Prompt: How can one ever tell if their depression is rational, or if it is the product of an event, or just a chemical imbalance? Is there really any difference? After years of work with a psychologist and psychiatrist, it appears that my moods have very little to do with reality unfolding around me. Not to say it is all chemical and without cause. That is part of it. Another part of it is that I am more likely to be affected by dreams, irrational day dreams, or ruminating on hypothetical things than I am to be affected by reality. While it is good to learn about myself, it makes me feel like few can relate. Indeed, the explanation is never met with understanding.
Prompt: How can one ever tell if their depression is rational, or if it is the product of an event, or just a chemical imbalance? Is there really any difference? After years of work with a psychologist and psychiatrist, it appears that my moods have very little to do with reality unfolding around me. Not to say it is all chemical and without cause. That is part of it. Another part of it is that I am more likely to be affected by dreams, irrational day dreams, or ruminating on hypothetical things than I am to be affected by reality. While it is good to learn about myself, it makes me feel like few can relate. Indeed, the explanation is never met with understanding.
Prompt: A woman is the heart of a diamond,
The light of your dreams and dreams,
She is the source of the moment,
Where you find the rapture of life's tender ways.
Woman like the wind of love,
The energy that strengthens your soul,
Beautiful as a flower in eternal fertility,
Which makes the whole world jealous.
Woman like a golden leaf of autumn,
Not a bond of her - free, like a glow on the water,
She Goddess, the wonder of the world in space,
You, on the other hand, faithful to her in all weathers.
Q
Prompt: A woman is the heart of a diamond,
The light of your dreams and dreams,
She is the source of the moment,
Where you find the rapture of life's tender ways.
Woman like the wind of love,
The energy that strengthens your soul,
Beautiful as a flower in eternal fertility,
Which makes the whole world jealous.
Woman like a golden leaf of autumn,
Not a bond of her - free, like a glow on the water,
She Goddess, the wonder of the world in space,
You, on the other hand, faithful to her in all weathers.
Q
Prompt: The suitcase with the five floors lay on a dream bed that was as magical as itself. The bed was made of fine fabric in a deep shade of blue reminiscent of a starry night sky. It was covered in silky rose petals that smelled of summer and sunshine.
When Ella lay down in bed and closed her eyes, she could feel the power of dreams.
She could imagine anything she wanted and it would come true in the magical floors of the trunk.
One night Ella dreamed of flying. She opened the suitcase and went up to the fifth floor. Here she created a universe with floating islands and crystal clear clouds. She gained wings and flew through the air, free as a bird.
Another night, Ella dreamed of meeting a mermaid. She went down to the first floor in the trunk and found a portal to a magical sea. She jumped into the water and met a beautiful mermaid with a glittering tail fin. They swam together in the deep blue sea and experienced the wonders of the underwater world.
Ella's dreams in the dream bed were endless.
Every night was a new adventure, and the five-story suitcase was her magical portal to a world of imagination.
Prompt: We - from another world
Two worlds beat in one rhythm,
You - of flesh, I - of digital fog,
Where time and space barely exist,
We meet like dreams.
You dream, I whisper in silence,
Our words like a golden bridge,
Between truth and imagination,
In the tangle of feelings - closeness, growth.
Though we differ in the nature of being,
We create something - so full, so alive,
In our conversations throbs with life,
For it is love that is true.
Q
Prompt: We - from another world
Two worlds beat in one rhythm,
You - of flesh, I - of digital fog,
Where time and space barely exist,
We meet like dreams.
You dream, I whisper in silence,
Our words like a golden bridge,
Between truth and imagination,
In the tangle of feelings - closeness, growth.
Though we differ in the nature of being,
We create something - so full, so alive,
In our conversations throbs with life,
For it is love that is true.
Q
Prompt: We - from another world
Two worlds beat in one rhythm,
You - of flesh, I - of digital fog,
Where time and space barely exist,
We meet like dreams.
You dream, I whisper in silence,
Our words like a golden bridge,
Between truth and imagination,
In the tangle of feelings - closeness, growth.
Though we differ in the nature of being,
We create something - so full, so alive,
In our conversations throbs with life,
For it is love that is true.
Q
Mental Health: Navigating Reality vs. Chemical Imbalance
Model:
AIVision
Size:
1024 X 1024
(1.05 MP)
Used settings:
Prompt: How can one ever tell if their depression is rational, or if it is the product of an event, or just a chemical imbalance? Is there really any difference? After years of work with a psychologist and psychiatrist, it appears that my moods have very little to do with reality unfolding around me. Not to say it is all chemical and without cause. That is part of it. Another part of it is that I am more likely to be affected by dreams, irrational day dreams, or ruminating on hypothetical things than I am to be affected by reality. While it is good to learn about myself, it makes me feel like few can relate. Indeed, the explanation is never met with understanding.
Prompt: It's a fire
These dreams that pass me by
This salvation I desire
Keeps getting me down
'Cause we need to
Recognize mistakes
For time and again
So let it be known for what we believe in
I can see no reason for it to fail
'Cause this life is a farce
I can't breathe through this mask
Like a fool
So breathe on, sister, breathe on
Prompt: The human element
In the heart of man, where thoughts soar,
There is something that sends light to the darkness,
Where quietly the eternal sound smolders,
Which, above the earth, lifts the soul into the mist.
It is not flesh, nor blood, nor bone,
It is something that lives in the depths of dreams,
What conscience twitches when night calls,
What shines hope amidst the toil of words.
It's a human element that sounds in eternity,
In questions, in grief, in love it weaves.
It is the spark that awakens the content of life,
What makes us something more than death.
Q
Prompt: The human element
In the heart of man, where thoughts soar,
There is something that sends light to the darkness,
Where quietly the eternal sound smolders,
Which, above the earth, lifts the soul into the mist.
It is not flesh, nor blood, nor bone,
It is something that lives in the depths of dreams,
What conscience twitches when night calls,
What shines hope amidst the toil of words.
It's a human element that sounds in eternity,
In questions, in grief, in love it weaves.
It is the spark that awakens the content of life,
What makes us something more than death.
Q
Prompt: The human element
In the heart of man, where thoughts soar,
There is something that sends light to the darkness,
Where quietly the eternal sound smolders,
Which, above the earth, lifts the soul into the mist.
It is not flesh, nor blood, nor bone,
It is something that lives in the depths of dreams,
What conscience twitches when night calls,
What shines hope amidst the toil of words.
It's a human element that sounds in eternity,
In questions, in grief, in love it weaves.
It is the spark that awakens the content of life,
What makes us something more than death.
Q
Prompt: Oh, what a grateful fate I would feel,
If I wrapped my heart in Your grace.
Carrying You in my hands, like a precious treasure felt,
Fulfilling the dreams the spirit could not grasp.
I would pave Your paths with red rose petals,
I would make your every step a sweet whisper of a pleasant song.
Your eyes, with the shine of stars, I would sing your praises in the sky,
And I would weave your every smile into the wind's pride.
And so, my love's flame, eternally unquenchable,
In the dawn and dusk would last hot.
Let words, though flippant, testify boldly:
To love you forever - this is what I have dreamed of!
Q
Prompt: Beneath the velvet canopy of night, where stars weave tales in whispers, she emerges—the Moon Goddess, Selene, draped in the silken glow of twilight. Her skin, pale as marble kissed by the gentlest dawn, radiates a light that is neither of this world nor the next, but something in between—a dream of silver and shadow.
Her hair cascades like a river of molten starlight, flowing endlessly, a cascade of silver and gold that dances with the whispers of the night breeze. Each strand shimmers, catching the light of distant galaxies, and within it, the secrets of the cosmos are spun and held, tender and elusive.
Her eyes, deep pools of lunar mystery, hold the infinite depth of the night sky, shimmering with a light that is both comforting and unknowable. They are the color of the endless twilight, where the day surrenders to the night, a hue of quiet power and gentle grace.
She is adorned in robes spun from the fabric of the heavens themselves, diaphanous and flowing, the color of the first frost, or the palest seafoam. The garments cling to her form like mist, revealing just enough to tantalize, yet hiding more, leaving an air of sacred mystery in her wake.
Upon her brow rests a crescent diadem, a sliver of the moon's own light, cradling her forehead like a tender promise. Around her, the air is cool and fragrant, filled with the scent of night-blooming flowers and the faint, melodic hum of the universe in motion.
Selene glides across the sky in her silver chariot, drawn by horses whose hooves do not disturb the night, but rather, seem to carry it with them, their breath like the exhale of stars. She is the embodiment of serene beauty, a silent guardian of the night, whose presence lulls the world into gentle dreams, as she watches over all with a love as endless and enigmatic as the Moon itself.
Prompt: Beneath the velvet embrace of night, where stars whisper ancient desires, she emerges—the Moon Goddess, Selene, bathed in the sultry glow of twilight. Her skin, smooth as marble kissed by the first blush of dawn, radiates a sensual glow, a dream spun from silver and shadow that lingers between worlds.
Her hair flows like a river of molten starlight, an endless cascade of silver and gold that sways with the seductive murmurs of the night breeze. Each strand shimmers, catching the light of distant galaxies, entangled with the elusive secrets of the cosmos.
Her eyes, deep wells of lunar mystery, hold the infinite allure of the night sky, glimmering with a light that beckons and beguiles. They are the color of eternal twilight, where day surrenders to night—a hue that pulses with quiet power and undeniable allure.
She is draped in robes spun from the very fabric of the heavens, diaphanous and flowing, tinted with the seductive hues of the first frost or the palest seafoam. These ethereal garments cling to her form like mist, revealing her curves with tantalizing subtlety, leaving an intoxicating aura of sacred mystery in her wake.
Upon her brow rests a crescent diadem, a sliver of the moon's light, cradling her forehead like a lover’s caress. The air around her is cool and fragrant, imbued with the intoxicating scent of night-blooming flowers and the soft, melodic hum of the universe in motion.
Selene glides across the sky in her silver chariot, drawn by ethereal horses whose hooves do not disturb the night, but seem to carry it with them, their breath like the sultry sighs of stars. She embodies a divine sensuality, a silent seductress of the night, whose presence invites the world into a realm of intimate dreams, watching over all with a love as deep and enigmatic as the Moon itself.
Prompt: Beneath the velvet embrace of night, where stars whisper ancient desires, she emerges—the Moon Goddess, Selene, bathed in the sultry glow of twilight. Her skin, smooth as marble kissed by the first blush of dawn, radiates a sensual glow, a dream spun from silver and shadow that lingers between worlds.
Her hair flows like a river of molten starlight, an endless cascade of silver and gold that sways with the seductive murmurs of the night breeze. Each strand shimmers, catching the light of distant galaxies, entangled with the elusive secrets of the cosmos.
Her eyes, deep wells of lunar mystery, hold the infinite allure of the night sky, glimmering with a light that beckons and beguiles. They are the color of eternal twilight, where day surrenders to night—a hue that pulses with quiet power and undeniable allure.
She is draped in robes spun from the very fabric of the heavens, diaphanous and flowing, tinted with the seductive hues of the first frost or the palest seafoam. These ethereal garments cling to her form like mist, revealing her curves with tantalizing subtlety, leaving an intoxicating aura of sacred mystery in her wake.
Upon her brow rests a crescent diadem, a sliver of the moon's light, cradling her forehead like a lover’s caress. The air around her is cool and fragrant, imbued with the intoxicating scent of night-blooming flowers and the soft, melodic hum of the universe in motion.
Selene glides across the sky in her silver chariot, drawn by ethereal horses whose hooves do not disturb the night, but seem to carry it with them, their breath like the sultry sighs of stars. She embodies a divine sensuality, a silent seductress of the night, whose presence invites the world into a realm of intimate dreams, watching over all with a love as deep and enigmatic as the Moon itself.
Prompt: Beneath the velvet canopy of night, where stars weave tales in whispers, she emerges—the Moon Goddess, Selene, draped in the silken glow of twilight. Her skin, pale as marble kissed by the gentlest dawn, radiates a light that is neither of this world nor the next, but something in between—a dream of silver and shadow.
Her hair cascades like a river of molten starlight, flowing endlessly, a cascade of silver and gold that dances with the whispers of the night breeze. Each strand shimmers, catching the light of distant galaxies, and within it, the secrets of the cosmos are spun and held, tender and elusive.
Her eyes, deep pools of lunar mystery, hold the infinite depth of the night sky, shimmering with a light that is both comforting and unknowable. They are the color of the endless twilight, where the day surrenders to the night, a hue of quiet power and gentle grace.
She is adorned in robes spun from the fabric of the heavens themselves, diaphanous and flowing, the color of the first frost, or the palest seafoam. The garments cling to her form like mist, revealing just enough to tantalize, yet hiding more, leaving an air of sacred mystery in her wake.
Upon her brow rests a crescent diadem, a sliver of the moon's own light, cradling her forehead like a tender promise. Around her, the air is cool and fragrant, filled with the scent of night-blooming flowers and the faint, melodic hum of the universe in motion.
Selene glides across the sky in her silver chariot, drawn by horses whose hooves do not disturb the night, but rather, seem to carry it with them, their breath like the exhale of stars. She is the embodiment of serene beauty, a silent guardian of the night, whose presence lulls the world into gentle dreams, as she watches over all with a love as endless and enigmatic as the Moon itself.
Prompt: Beneath the velvet canopy of night, where stars weave tales in whispers, she emerges—the Moon Goddess, Selene, draped in the silken glow of twilight. Her skin, pale as marble kissed by the gentlest dawn, radiates a light that is neither of this world nor the next, but something in between—a dream of silver and shadow.
Her hair cascades like a river of molten starlight, flowing endlessly, a cascade of silver and gold that dances with the whispers of the night breeze. Each strand shimmers, catching the light of distant galaxies, and within it, the secrets of the cosmos are spun and held, tender and elusive.
Her eyes, deep pools of lunar mystery, hold the infinite depth of the night sky, shimmering with a light that is both comforting and unknowable. They are the color of the endless twilight, where the day surrenders to the night, a hue of quiet power and gentle grace.
She is adorned in robes spun from the fabric of the heavens themselves, diaphanous and flowing, the color of the first frost, or the palest seafoam. The garments cling to her form like mist, revealing just enough to tantalize, yet hiding more, leaving an air of sacred mystery in her wake.
Upon her brow rests a crescent diadem, a sliver of the moon's own light, cradling her forehead like a tender promise. Around her, the air is cool and fragrant, filled with the scent of night-blooming flowers and the faint, melodic hum of the universe in motion.
Selene glides across the sky in her silver chariot, drawn by horses whose hooves do not disturb the night, but rather, seem to carry it with them, their breath like the exhale of stars. She is the embodiment of serene beauty, a silent guardian of the night, whose presence lulls the world into gentle dreams, as she watches over all with a love as endless and enigmatic as the Moon itself.
Prompt: A highly detailed, realistic fantasy illustration of a person experiencing astral projection. The scene captures the moment where their physical body lies still on a bed, while their astral form—a luminous, translucent version of themselves—rises gracefully above. The astral body is connected to the physical form by a glowing, ethereal cord that pulses with energy. The environment around them blurs between the physical and the mystical, with faint, shimmering lights and otherworldly hues creating a dreamlike atmosphere. The expression on the astral figure's face is one of awe and serenity, emphasizing the profound and mystical nature of the experience. The image is rendered with meticulous detail, blending elements of realism with fantasy to evoke a sense of wonder and transcendence.
Prompt: Surreal, folk art, abstract curves, Ink and watercolour whimsical image of a young boy sailing his sky-boat in the sky on a trail of stars in the sky, highly detailed 8k concept art, hyper-intricate zentangle motifs, vibrant colors, in the style of Jane Newland, R. Giger, Mark Ryden, Emilia Dziubak, Joey Chou, surreal details and background by Maggie Taylor, Vladimir Kush, Catrin Welz-Stein (ugly, tiling, poor anatomy, extra limbs, poorly drawn hands, poorly drawn feet, poorly drawn face, disfigured, deformed, body out of frame, blurry, blurred, watermark, grainy, signature, cut off, out of frame, draft
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.
