Prompt: The fifth angel poured out his bowl on the throne of the beast, and its kingdom was plunged into darkness. People gnawed their tongues in agony and cursed the God of heaven because of their pains and their sores, but they refused to repent of what they had done.
Prompt: Overwhelmed. The water rises up. No sign it will cease or subside. Success is not optional, so we must endure and continue. The rising tide causes more pressure and stress, but there is no line in which it could become so great that the deluge ends. Or responsibility ends, rather. So, just keep swimming. You are not allowed to fail.
Prompt: The Mothman is a mysterious and ominous creature, its form both eerie and enigmatic. Its wings stretch out expansively, resembling those of a large bat, with a membrane that seems to ripple and undulate as it moves. The wings are characterized by a textured, leathery surface that glistens in the moonlight.
The creature's body is shadowy and elusive, its outline blending seamlessly with the darkness. Its eyes, however, pierce through the obscurity with an intense and unsettling glow. The eyes are a vivid shade of red, emitting an otherworldly radiance that adds to the creature's mystique.
As the Mothman moves, there is a sense of fluidity and grace, despite the overall air of foreboding. The feathers or scales on its body, if discernible, might have an otherworldly sheen, reflecting a faint luminescence. The Mothman's presence is accompanied by an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of its wings beating against the night air.
Prompt: I also wonder if the way I speak and write distances me from others. Do I seem too different, or too dissimilar? "Well, it sounds good, but he's not like me." Trying to be articulate and precise with words and logic can be more helpful than raw instinct. I think it means a lot more if the person who hears you also knows that behind the mask you've chosen to make is the same angry animal that is in everyone else. Behind the facade will always be an angry and scared mentally ill child who just wants to be better than he is.
Prompt: Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) can be likened to an intricate and relentless maze within the mind, where thoughts and actions are governed by an unyielding set of rules and rituals. Picture a room filled with buzzing insects, each representing a persistent, intrusive thought. These thoughts swarm around your consciousness, demanding attention and adherence to specific patterns.
Now, imagine a meticulous craftsman tirelessly at work, meticulously arranging and rearranging a set of tools on a wooden workbench. This craftsman symbolizes the compulsions that follow the obsessive thoughts – repetitive actions undertaken to ease the anxiety brought forth by the buzzing swarm of intrusive ideas. The process is intricate, demanding precision and order, akin to the need for strict routines in the life of someone with OCD.
The disorder paints a mental landscape where the boundaries between what's reasonable and irrational blur, and navigating through this intricate maze becomes a constant challenge. Each step is calculated, every action driven by an internal force that insists on compliance with the rules, even when they seem irrational to an outsider.
In essence, OCD can be visualized as a never-ending dance between the relentless swarm of thoughts and the meticulous rituals performed to create a semblance of control. The image encapsulates the struggle of an individual caught in the intricate web of their mind, where the buzzing of thoughts and the meticulous dance of compulsions shape the landscape of their daily existence.
Prompt: You've been hurting in a million ways
No one else can see
'Cause no one took 'em serious
'Til the injuries
So you took it out of God's hands and into yours
And threw up the prescription on the bathroom floor
You didn't wanna hurt no more
I see you
Crying in a gown that's blue
Screaming through a breathing tube
"How'd I get to this place?"
I see you
Wonderin' how you came unglued
Feelin' like your whole life's screwed
"Who could love me this way?"
You couldn't hear a single word they said in that padded room
When every day all of your darkest thoughts kept on comin' true
Lyin' in the ICU
You've been carving maps into your skin
To make the sickness show
A kind of suffering that's never fit
A diagnostic code
So you pictured all the faces when they'd hear the news
Thought your body in a bag would be enough to prove
That this was real, and not some sad excuse
I see you
Crying in a gown that's blue
Screaming through a breathing tube
"How'd I get to this place?"
I see you
Wonderin' how you came unglued
Feelin' like your whole life's screwed
"Who could love me this way?"
You couldn't hear a single word they said in that padded room
(Hey, kid, are you okay?)
When every day all of your darkest thoughts kept on comin' true
I see you trying not to cry
Just wishin' you had not survived
But don't give up, give it a little time
Someday you'll see that you were worth this fight
I see you wide awake all night
A million prayers, not even one reply
But don't give up, 'cause there's another side
And you still have a lot of songs to write
I see you
Crying in a gown that's blue
Screaming through a breathing tube
"How'd I get to this place?"
I see you
Wonderin' how you came unglued
Feelin' like your whole life's screwed
"Who could love me this way?"
You couldn't hear a single word they said in that padded room
When every day all of your darkest thoughts kept on comin' true
Lyin' in the ICU
Emotionless Expectations: Navigating Social Reactions
Model:
AIVision
Size:
1024 X 1024
(1.05 MP)
Used settings:
Prompt: I am not certain how, but I keep getting disappointed even without having real expectations. I have only the vaguest assumption that I should feel things. I will witness a social response commonly, and believe something should happen inside me to cause a similar reaction. Throughout my life, I keep finding that often nothing happens. Neither good nor bad. My therapist suggested that perhaps my expectations are set too high. I explained, I don't think it is odd to expect something more than nothing to happen in situations that evoke emotions in most all humans, from my observation. Others seem to judge my lack of reaction, so to some extent, I act. The problem comes when I don't recognize I was supposed to have a reaction, and others are put off by my neutrality.
Prompt: In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.
Prompt: Anhedonia, brought on by completion of long term projects, is like a penalty for success. The task complete, meaning and direction is stripped away, leaving a void of purpose in the mind.
Prompt: Is the mind a prison or a sanctuary? Perhaps mental illness exacerbates it. Is it normal yearn for an escape from my oppressive mind, but then also see my mind as the only place where peace can be found? Cognitive Dissonance is no stranger to OCD. Opposing and conflicting views battling for validation is the unending treadmill of this disorder.
Prompt: I am not sure what lesson I am supposed to be learning, but I fear that if I do not learn it soon, I will go mad. For over a year now I have had the same complaint, that no one hears me. They listen and absorb the words, but yet I go unheard. So often lately I have heard that I was "right." That is not vindicating. I do not want to be right. I want someone to avoid the problem I am warning them of. I try to tell people how I feel and even though people nod and listen, it is obvious from their actions that no one is actually hearing me. Over and over this keeps happening. Day in and day out. I am convinced the purpose is to teach me something, but I cannot figure it out, and it is starting to make me feel crazy.
Prompt: The seventh angel poured out his bowl into the air, and out of the temple came a loud voice from the throne, saying, “It is done!” Then there came flashes of lightning, rumblings, peals of thunder and a severe earthquake. No earthquake like it has ever occurred since mankind has been on earth, so tremendous was the quake. The great city split into three parts, and the cities of the nations collapsed. God remembered Babylon the Great and gave her the cup filled with the wine of the fury of his wrath. Every island fled away and the mountains could not be found. From the sky huge hailstones, each weighing about a hundred pounds, fell on people. And they cursed God on account of the plague of hail, because the plague was so terrible.
Prompt: The seventh angel poured out his bowl into the air, and out of the temple came a loud voice from the throne, saying, “It is done!” Then there came flashes of lightning, rumblings, peals of thunder and a severe earthquake. No earthquake like it has ever occurred since mankind has been on earth, so tremendous was the quake. The great city split into three parts, and the cities of the nations collapsed. God remembered Babylon the Great and gave her the cup filled with the wine of the fury of his wrath. Every island fled away and the mountains could not be found. From the sky huge hailstones, each weighing about a hundred pounds, fell on people. And they cursed God on account of the plague of hail, because the plague was so terrible.
Prompt: All my dreams since I got home involve vehicles breaking. Also, I find that I'm constantly paranoid they are about to break. Despite my outward stoicism, I think my brain got a boo-boo from the three accidents in three days.
Prompt: Cyclothymic Disorder. Psychiatrist and psychologist have consistently diagnosed me as bi-polar but it never really fit. The highs are not so high that I end up in jail, the lows are not so low they result in a suicide attempt. Cyclothymic Disorder is like bi-polar 3, or as I like to call it "Diet Bi-Polar." It's gonna get real weird... but it'll be okay. Since they figured this out, they changed my meds and are actually reigning it in. As with ADHD and OCD, the meds help make life manageable, but there are things I like that get muted along with the bad. Like losing super powers, but so that I can function in daily life.
Prompt: I'm standing at the edge of a world
I keep searching for this dream
My star keep guiding me
I'll reach into the heavens above
For a moment I can see
But the high is killing me
And I, will break again
Into a million pieces
Yeah, why do I, keep shattering?
I get lost in the pain
My whole life, it never ends
Feels like I'm drowning in the deep end
How can I, exist
When I break into a million pieces?
Prompt: What horrors lie on the timeline ahead of us? We often compare evil deeds of the past and present, but none will be relevant when we become a victim of the next historically evil deed. So we wait, with historical assurance that we will not make it off this planet unblemished. Not a matter of "if" but "when."
Prompt: I'm standing at the edge of a world
I keep searching for this dream
My star keep guiding me
I'll reach into the heavens above
For a moment I can see
But the high is killing me
And I, will break again
Into a million pieces
Yeah, why do I, keep shattering?
I get lost in the pain
My whole life, it never ends
Feels like I'm drowning in the deep end
How can I, exist
When I break into a million pieces?
Prompt: I'm standing at the edge of a world
I keep searching for this dream
My star keep guiding me
I'll reach into the heavens above
For a moment I can see
But the high is killing me
And I, will break again
Into a million pieces
Yeah, why do I, keep shattering?
I get lost in the pain
My whole life, it never ends
Feels like I'm drowning in the deep end
How can I, exist
When I break into a million pieces?
Prompt: The more effort I put into clear communication, the less anyone seems to be understanding me. I am the only thing all of these separate interactions have in common, which gives me reasonable confidence that I'm the problem. In the months since I have been aware of this, I have tried harder, and had even less success. It is maddening. If I'm brief, it's a game of questions and needing clarity. If I am not brief and explain, it does not seem people read it. I have a problem, I am the one to solve it, and I have no clue how to proceed.
Prompt: Catharsis: "the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions." Many of the ideas that I submit to this prompt is done for that reason. I struggle with the thought. Articulate it as best I can. Then, I evaluate the results. Often, it seems to bring me some peace, or at least lets me move on.
Prompt: Catharsis: "the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions." Many of the ideas that I submit to this prompt is done for that reason. I struggle with the thought. Articulate it as best I can. Then, I evaluate the results. Often, it seems to bring me some peace, or at least lets me move on.
Prompt: After many days feeling wonderful, I now find myself withering away in the embrace of despair. Sometimes the descent is gentle. This time it was not. The rapid change from optimism to existential nihilism is unsettling. However, it is no stranger here.
Prompt: I will not fail to speak of Leviathan’s limbs, its strength and its graceful form. Who can strip off its outer coat? Who can penetrate its double coat of armor? Who dares open the doors of its mouth, ringed about with fearsome teeth? Its back has rows of shields tightly sealed together; each is so close to the next that no air can pass between. They are joined fast to one another; they cling together and cannot be parted. Its snorting throws out flashes of light; its eyes are like the rays of dawn. Flames stream from its mouth; sparks of fire shoot out. Smoke pours from its nostrils as from a boiling pot over burning reeds. Its breath sets coals ablaze, and flames dart from its mouth. Strength resides in its neck; dismay goes before it. The folds of its flesh are tightly joined; they are firm and immovable. Its chest is hard as rock, hard as a lower millstone. When it rises up, the mighty are terrified; they retreat before its thrashing. The sword that reaches it has no effect, nor does the spear or the dart or the javelin. Iron it treats like straw and bronze like rotten wood. Arrows do not make it flee; slingstones are like chaff to it. A club seems to it but a piece of straw; it laughs at the rattling of the lance. Its undersides are jagged potsherds, leaving a trail in the mud like a threshing sledge. It makes the depths churn like a boiling caldron and stirs up the sea like a pot of ointment. It leaves a glistening wake behind it; one would think the deep had white hair. Nothing on earth is its equal— a creature without fear. It looks down on all that are haughty; it is king over all that are proud.
Prompt: It's yours right, this house with the boarded up doors right
Poor site like maybe it's mine and you made it
In time with the foresight
To light a torch and torch this place
Co-ordinate my life with yours
Private wars and a chore to relate in a world that you made full of minor chords
Find the oars, lie in the wake
Quiet your mind, they're lying in wait
They're firing everything all over everywhere
Everyone in the asylum is safe
Prompt: I will not fail to speak of Leviathan’s limbs, its strength and its graceful form. Who can strip off its outer coat? Who can penetrate its double coat of armor? Who dares open the doors of its mouth, ringed about with fearsome teeth? Its back has rows of shields tightly sealed together; each is so close to the next that no air can pass between. They are joined fast to one another; they cling together and cannot be parted. Its snorting throws out flashes of light; its eyes are like the rays of dawn. Flames stream from its mouth; sparks of fire shoot out. Smoke pours from its nostrils as from a boiling pot over burning reeds. Its breath sets coals ablaze, and flames dart from its mouth. Strength resides in its neck; dismay goes before it. The folds of its flesh are tightly joined; they are firm and immovable. Its chest is hard as rock, hard as a lower millstone. When it rises up, the mighty are terrified; they retreat before its thrashing. The sword that reaches it has no effect, nor does the spear or the dart or the javelin. Iron it treats like straw and bronze like rotten wood. Arrows do not make it flee; slingstones are like chaff to it. A club seems to it but a piece of straw; it laughs at the rattling of the lance. Its undersides are jagged potsherds, leaving a trail in the mud like a threshing sledge. It makes the depths churn like a boiling caldron and stirs up the sea like a pot of ointment. It leaves a glistening wake behind it; one would think the deep had white hair. Nothing on earth is its equal— a creature without fear. It looks down on all that are haughty; it is king over all that are proud.
Prompt: "Whether poet, religious leader, scientist, or social reformer, all who sought to elevate humankind brought with them the light of truth. But the people, often blinded by their vices, put them to death."
Prompt: I feel like my life is culminating around this idea that we humans are obsessed with finding objective answers while being deluged with experiences that tell us there are not any.
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.
107w
