Prompt: A crucified Marilyn Monroe
She was a goddess of beauty, sex, and fame,
A shining star that lit up the stage.
Desire and love surrounded her name,
Her smile, her laugh, a constant thrill of joy.
But fame and beauty came with a price,
A life of constant scrutiny and strife.
Her beauty and desire fueled the fire,
Of those who sought to control her life.
She was a victim of her own success,
Her downfall and destruction was in sight.
Tragedy and pain were the only guests,
In a life that was anything but bright.
She lived and died in a blaze of glory,
Her beauty and fame her one true story.
A symbol of tragedy and pain,
A victim of the world that sought to chain.
Her life was a journey of ups and downs,
A battle between beauty and fame.
Her death a mystery that still astounds,
A symbol of what could have been.
So let us remember Marilyn Monroe,
Not just as a sex symbol or fame.
But as a woman who struggled to grow,
And suffered the consequences of her claim.
Prompt: Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Prompt: Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Prompt: Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Prompt: Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Prompt: Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other
doesn't make any sense.
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don't go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don't go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth
across the doorsill where the two worlds touch,
The door is round and open.
Don't go back to sleep.
Prompt: Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other
doesn't make any sense.
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don't go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don't go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth
across the doorsill where the two worlds touch,
The door is round and open.
Don't go back to sleep.
Prompt: From now on, I shall be mad.
I'll let go of the material world
and find the source of the light.
I'll be lost in love for the divine
and live in a state of madness.
The craziness of the world
makes no sense to me.
I've given up trying to be sane
and now I'm free.
I'll let go of reason and logic
and live in a world of love.
I'll dance with abandon
and let my spirit soar above.
The ordinary life is no longer enough,
I want to experience the extraordinary.
I'll be mad with love for the divine
and live in a state of ecstasy.
Prompt: Listen,
the reed flute's song
is a voice
asking to be reunited.
It speaks of separation
painfully felt,
of yearning
for the lost country
where life is easy.
My heart is aching
to share this pain,
to find the way
to the source of the reed's music.
I want to leave
this limited world
and find the infinite,
to be free from the chains
of existence.
I want to be reunited
with my true self,
to sing the song
of the reed flute
with the master's voice.
Prompt: This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
Prompt: This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
Prompt: The inside of the Akashic Library is peaceful and awe-inspiring. Its walls are lined with shelves reaching to the sky, filled with volumes of knowledge. In the center is a large stone table, on which rests a book symbolizing all human experiences and memories. Underneath is a Tabby Cat. The room is quiet with soft light and a dreamlike atmosphere. Approaching the table, I am transported to a realm of knowledge. The pages are filled with stories of lives that have come and gone, forming a tapestry of the soul. I gain insight into my own journey and feel a sense of peace and connection upon leaving.
Prompt: The inside of the Akashic Library is peaceful and awe-inspiring. Its walls are lined with shelves reaching to the sky, filled with volumes of knowledge. In the center is a large stone table, on which rests a book symbolizing all human experiences and memories. Underneath is a Tabby Cat. The room is quiet with soft light and a dreamlike atmosphere. Approaching the table, I am transported to a realm of knowledge. The pages are filled with stories of lives that have come and gone, forming a tapestry of the soul. I gain insight into my own journey and feel a sense of peace and connection upon leaving.
Prompt: In a room lies a great stone table, and upon it rests a single book. This book holds the record of my own soul, the story of my journey through countless lifetimes, the tale of my triumphs and struggles, my joys and sorrows. There is a tapestry of my soul along the wall, each thread a different lifetime, each stitch a different experience. I see the patterns that have woven themselves through my existence, the themes that have repeated themselves time and time again There is a tabby cat that lazily watches the book, and I am reminded that he has been with me many times.
Prompt: In the center of the room lies a great stone table, and upon it rests a single book. This book holds the record of my own soul, the story of my journey through countless lifetimes, the tale of my triumphs and struggles, my joys and sorrows. As I open the book, the pages begin to turn of their own accord, revealing the memories of my past lives. There is a tapestry of my soul along the wall, each thread a different lifetime, each stitch a different experience. I see the patterns that have woven themselves through my existence, the themes that have repeated themselves time and time again. And I am filled with a sense of gratitude for the opportunity to revisit these memories, to heal old wounds and to understand the purpose of my soul's journey. There is a cat that lazily watches me, and I am reminded that he has been with me many times.
Prompt: In the center of the room lies a great stone table, and upon it rests a single book. This book holds the record of my own soul, the story of my journey through countless lifetimes, the tale of my triumphs and struggles, my joys and sorrows. As I open the book, the pages begin to turn of their own accord, revealing the memories of my past lives.
I am filled with a sense of wonder as I behold the tapestry of my soul along the wall, each thread a different lifetime, each stitch a different experience. I see the patterns that have woven themselves through my existence, the themes that have repeated themselves time and time again. And I am filled with a sense of gratitude for the opportunity to revisit these memories, to heal old wounds and to understand the purpose of my soul's journey. There is a cat that lazily watches me, and I am reminded that he has been with me many times.
Prompt: A realm of beyond the limits of the physical world, a place where consciousness flows like a river and holds all knowledge within its depths. The birthplace of thought, memory and emotions, a storehouse of all that has ever been or will be. It is etheral beauty where the boundaries between time and space fade away and the mind is free to roam amidst a sea of radiant light. The air is thick with the fragrance of wisdom and the whispers of ancient souls and the ground is soft and plush with the accumulation of lifetimes. The sky is a canvas of vibrant hues painted by the infinite possibilities of creation and the infinte expressions of the soul. in the distance one can see the glimmer of a temple with towering spires reaching towards the heavens, holding the Akashic records
Prompt: A realm of beyond the limits of the physical world, a place where consciousness flows like a river and holds all knowledge within its depths. The birthplace of thought, memory and emotions, a storehouse of all that has ever been or will be. It is etheral beauty where the boundaries between time and space fade away and the mind is free to roam amidst a sea of radiant light. The air is thick with the fragrance of wisdom and the whispers of ancient souls and the ground is soft and plush with the accumulation of lifetimes. The sky is a canvas of vibrant hues painted by the infinite possibilities of creation and the infinte expressions of the soul. in the distance one can see the glimmer of a temple with towering spires reaching towards the heavens, holding the Akashic records
Prompt: A realm of beyond the limits of the physical world, a place where consciousness flows like a river and holds all knowledge within its depths. The birthplace of thought, memory and emotions, a storehouse of all that has ever been or will be. It is etheral beauty where the boundaries between time and space fade away and the mind is free to roam amidst a sea of radiant light. The air is thick with the fragrance of wisdom and the whispers of ancient souls and the ground is soft and plush with the accumulation of lifetimes. The sky is a canvas of vibrant hues painted by the infinite possibilities of creation and the infinte expressions of the soul. in the distance one can see the glimmer of a temple with towering spires reaching towards the heavens, holding the Akashic records
Prompt: A realm of beyond the limits of the physical world, a place where consciousness flows like a river and holds all knowledge within its depths. The birthplace of thought, memory and emotions, a storehouse of all that has ever been or will be. It is etheral beauty where the boundaries between time and space fade away and the mind is free to roam amidst a sea of radiant light. The air is thick with the fragrance of wisdom and the whispers of ancient souls and the ground is soft and plush with the accumulation of lifetimes. The sky is a canvas of vibrant hues painted by the infinite possibilities of creation and the infinte expressions of the soul. in the distance one can see the glimmer of a temple with towering spires reaching towards the heavens, holding the Akashic records
Prompt: A temple complex in a mediterranean location with a lagoon in the front of a small dock that leads to 6 buildings that resemble greek temples with pyramids on the top. Beautiful flowers surround the buildings and people in white robes can be seen walking around in quite thoughts. The area permeats peace and tranquility and healing
Prompt: The Akoshic Library. It is a place with a massive book in the middle on a stone pedalstill that contains a history of the lives of all, past, present and future. It is a place of light and opens out to a beautiful lake and gardens that surround it. However, on one wall is a tapestry that seems to be alive and extends beyond what the eye can see, and reality is bent when looking down it.
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.
