Prompt: {"Cat's guide how to conquer your mortal enemy : weird to the wild ucanny valley effect visor, in the form of a duck face"_"Insane in the Membrane" by: David Cronenberg's Seurat, Redon, Turner, Beksinski}_{Contamination of thousand creepy fingers in Beksinski's style in the shape of comically grotesquely whimsical Hellish_Slinky_Maggot_Syringe, with red googly eyes and titanium chattering teeth, Oversized Jumbo Fake Ears, Panic!, singing jiggly brain, it will grow out of hell spawn and with all that anger against life. Elements of photorealism in a truncated hyper-surreal scene. Blended art style in one by: Molzahn, Hockney, Caulfield, Craig-Martin, Voynich, Luigi Serafini, dystopian bio horror feeling}_{Inspired by The Andromeda Strain (1971) and Luigi Cozzi's movie Contamination (1980)}
Prompt: A sultry
Southern belle
in a sensuous
Summer smock
Offers a
plastic Shark Chalice
- brimming with blood -
and I'm consumed
by Her
Cavalier.
The glove compartment lays open
upon my lap, panting
Russian science friction
into the
damp heaviness.
Beyond the Elysian fields
A pup places
his pissy paws
Upon my panting lap
I'm told that
He eats
pens and panties
And peeps
into Alternate Dimensions of denim.
See you soon pup!
Now we revolve,
Sipping
Gin 'n eggs
And improvising
high
coups.
She waves a red fan
Clearing the smoke-filled air for
Act Two,
which shall unravel
Calliope-slow...
Mirror grotesques
and iron railings
will be unveiled
Ordered forcefully from the depths of dizzy Disney
memories.
We'll return to the Mississippi
Where the full
orange
Moon
- with cloud-shrouded mystery -
Shall command
of us, forcefully:
Look at Me! See!
Through technicolored 'splosions
Swirling
war-story glories
Beneath the stars
Above bumbling barges
Behold me! Be reborn!
Behind us,
A child will howl:
"This is the best Fourth of July ever!"
Above the brass whoops,
Vibrating animal hides, and
Frightened car alarms,
heat.
like
rises
Her laughter
Her eyes a pale blue
waterline
rippled with hints of semi aquatic
Wildness
Through us,
Screaming golden pillars of
White-hot light
Rise
from Earthen
roots
Up
to kiss her
Lunar boots.
Shadow of the hornless beast
Babble on,
Bobble-Head
Corpus Christi
Pez dispenser
Mary hath casteth thee
from Flowering Hands,
mellifluously
A malevolent miracle
Beneath the flood lights
Beaming upon
another Holy
facade.
She told me
I would dream
Of desperate-for-love
cake Baby
kings
Yet it's Seven a.m.
In New Orleans
and
Life is but a Dream
that mustn't
Fall
to
Sleep
Prompt: Putrid scalding razor wire multi colored eyes spellcaster violent magic lost bullets graveyard full moon hateful crackhead user fires claws revolting creeping death violence infinity ring musty dark water lighting storm
Prompt: Fill 'em with the venom, and eliminate 'em
Other words, I Minute Maid 'em
I don't wanna hurt 'em, but I did, I'm in a fit of rage
I'm murderin' again, nobody will evade
I'm finna kill 'em, I'm dumpin' their fuckin' bodies in the lake
Obliteratin' everything, incinerate a renegade
I'm here to make anybody who want it with the pen afraid
But don't nobody want it but they're gonna get it anyway
'Cause I'm beginnin' to feel like I'm mentally ill
I'm Atilla, kill or be killed, I'm a killer bee, the vanilla gorilla
You're bringin' the killer within me, out of me
You don't want to be the enemy of the demon
Who went in me, and be on the receiving of me, what stupidity it'd be
Every bit of me is the epitome of a spitter
Prompt: A hyper-saturated, psychedelic carnival of chaos sprawls across the canvas, centered around a grotesque mashup of pop culture icons and dark Americana. In the foreground, a twisted version of Mickey Mouse is slouched in a dirty recliner, veins bulging with technicolor syringes labeled “Happiness,” “Fame,” and “Followers.” His eyes are bloodshot spirals, and he’s laughing hysterically as dollar bills rain down like confetti. Behind him, Jesus in aviator sunglasses and a Hawaiian shirt is flipping burgers on a flaming grill shaped like a golden calf. Smoke billows up into the sky, forming distorted corporate logos and demonic cartoon characters. Ronald McDonald, dressed as a televangelist, preaches into a microphone, standing atop a broken iPhone altar surrounded by zombified children staring blankly at tablets. To the left, a Marilyn Monroe android with glowing eyes and exposed circuitry seductively poses beside a Las Vegas-style slot machine that dispenses pills instead of coins. Elvis, half-skeleton and half-Elon Musk, floats in a hover-chair above the chaos, tweeting into a megaphone while his other robotic arm cradles a swaddled baby labeled “NFT.” The background is a riot of melting skyscrapers, barbed wire wrapped in Christmas lights, and a collapsing Hollywood sign being eaten by rats in tuxedos. The sky is a vomitous swirl of candy pinks and radioactive greens, with giant eyes peering down from clouds shaped like nuclear mushroom clouds. Every surface is crawling with hidden imagery: screaming faces in coffee stains, pornographic doodles inside cereal box mascots, and small American flags sprouting like weeds from cracked pavement. The whole scene pulses with cynical energy, like a hallucinogenic dream of modern culture’s decay—vivid, hilarious, and horrifying all at once.
Prompt: A hyper-saturated, psychedelic carnival of chaos sprawls across the canvas, centered around a grotesque mashup of pop culture icons and dark Americana. In the foreground, a twisted version of Mickey Mouse is slouched in a dirty recliner, veins bulging with technicolor syringes labeled “Happiness,” “Fame,” and “Followers.” His eyes are bloodshot spirals, and he’s laughing hysterically as dollar bills rain down like confetti. Behind him, Jesus in aviator sunglasses and a Hawaiian shirt is flipping burgers on a flaming grill shaped like a golden calf. Smoke billows up into the sky, forming distorted corporate logos and demonic cartoon characters. Ronald McDonald, dressed as a televangelist, preaches into a microphone, standing atop a broken iPhone altar surrounded by zombified children staring blankly at tablets. To the left, a Marilyn Monroe android with glowing eyes and exposed circuitry seductively poses beside a Las Vegas-style slot machine that dispenses pills instead of coins. Elvis, half-skeleton and half-Elon Musk, floats in a hover-chair above the chaos, tweeting into a megaphone while his other robotic arm cradles a swaddled baby labeled “NFT.” The background is a riot of melting skyscrapers, barbed wire wrapped in Christmas lights, and a collapsing Hollywood sign being eaten by rats in tuxedos. The sky is a vomitous swirl of candy pinks and radioactive greens, with giant eyes peering down from clouds shaped like nuclear mushroom clouds. Every surface is crawling with hidden imagery: screaming faces in coffee stains, pornographic doodles inside cereal box mascots, and small American flags sprouting like weeds from cracked pavement. The whole scene pulses with cynical energy, like a hallucinogenic dream of modern culture’s decay—vivid, hilarious, and horrifying all at once.
Prompt: A smorgasbord of bored smorgs, a crazy clump of clobber. A hairy hound turned upside down and a bucket full off water, a hated place a screaming grace a coward to the slaughter
Prompt: "Words flowing like a polluted river, changing course through a trash-filled landscape, carrying fragmented stories with unseen force, whispered pleas echoing in a decaying urban environment, ripples expanding across a toxic waste pool, fluvial dissemination, stochastic variance, semantic transmutations, polysemous confluence, failing denotative delineations, meaning's essence exhaling through cracked concrete, girls in ripped bikinis with rusted anchor tattoos submerged in the river, featherless owls with rusted anchor tattoos perched on decaying industrial machinery, urban decay, polluted water, distorted reflections, dark and gritty, highly detailed."
Prompt: A nightmarish, neon-splattered hellscape unfolds across the canvas—half funhouse, half battlefield—painted in acidic reds, bruised purples, and toxic greens. In the center, a bloated, grinning Uncle Sam towers like a demented god, his face peeling to reveal a skull made of rusted assault rifles and dollar signs. His hat is a cracked TV screen flashing "OBEY" in glitched lettering, and blood drips from his fingertips onto a pile of screaming infants wrapped in fast food wrappers and American flags.
To his left, a feral Barbie doll with shark teeth and hollow eyes rips chunks of flesh from a smiling cartoon dog that bleeds glitter and oil. Her body is covered in bruises, censorship stickers, and brand logos like tattoos from hell. Her long blonde hair coils like snakes, each strand whispering slurs and ad jingles in invisible text.
In the background, a strip mall cathedral burns in reverse—flames climbing downward into a pit of iPads, crucified influencers, and bleeding vinyl records. McDonald’s arches hang upside down like a crucifix, oozing yellow pus onto a mob of zombified consumers with bleeding eyes and credit cards for tongues.
A mutant hybrid of SpongeBob and Charles Manson sits cross-legged at the base of the scene, carving TikTok logos into his own face with a selfie stick, his mouth permanently frozen in a distorted influencer smile. Around him, the ground is crawling with decaying mascots: a headless Tony the Tiger wielding a chainsaw, a weeping Ronald McDonald cradling a fetus in a clown shoe, and the Kool-Aid Man vomiting black tar over a cemetery of forgotten childhoods.
Above it all, a night sky pulses with giant surveillance eyes, veins bulging and blinking in sync with heartbeat monitor lines. A UFO made of stitched-together Amazon boxes beams up crying children while playing the national anthem in reverse.
Thick as a brick Celestial Fusion: Nature's Surreal Harmony
Model:
AIVision
Size:
1024 X 1024
(1.05 MP)
Used settings:
Prompt: Really don't mind if you sit this one out
My words but a whisper your deafness a shout
I may make you feel but I can't make you think
Your sperm's in the gutter, your love's in the sink
So you ride yourselves over the fields and
You make all your animal deals and
Your wise men don't know how it feels
To be thick as a brick
And the sand-castle virtues are all swept away in
The tidal destruction, the moral melee
The elastic retreat rings the close of play
As the last wave uncovers the newfangled way
But your new shoes are worn at the heels and
Your suntan does rapidly peel and
Your wise men don't know how it feels
To be thick as a brick
And the love that I feel, is so far away
I'm a bad dream that I just had today and you
Shake your head and
Say it's a shame
Spin me back down the years
And the days of my youth
Draw the lace and black curtains
And shut out the whole truth
Spin me down the long ages, let them sing the song
Prompt: Pin-up style illustration of a curvy young woman with defined features and auburn waves, leaning against a vintage motorcycle, wearing denim shorts, a green crop top, and a matching scarf. She winks at the viewer. The setting is a sunlit garage with tools scattered around. 1950s aesthetic, George Petty art style, high contrast, dramatic
Prompt: Pin-up style illustration of a curvy young woman with defined features and brunette waves, leaning against a vintage motorcycle, wearing denim shorts, a red crop top, and a matching scarf. She winks at the viewer. The setting is a sunlit garage with tools scattered around. 1950s aesthetic, George Petty art style, high contrast, dramatic
Prompt: Curved strawberry tree with black leaves, fantasy fusion of red and black, luscious strawberries, winding road disappearing into the distance, thick silver fog enveloping the background, intricate details, surreal ambiance, vibrant reds contrasting with deep blacks, digital illustration, high detail and sharp lines, mysterious and enchanting atmosphere, Art Nouveau inspiration, Artstation.
Prompt: A masterpiece of fantasy realism. A very beautiful dark-skinned demon girl with small black horns on her head and thick black hair stands in a relaxed pose on the street of a futuristic demonic city with black gothic skyscrapers and black futuristic cars stylized as reptile monsters. The demon girl is dressed in stylish tight-fitting leather demonic clothes with a short skirt in black and burgundy colors with golden buckles. In her hands she holds a small white three-headed demonic dog with small sharp teeth in the mouths of all three heads. Two male demons in black suits with golden trim are visible on the street.
Prompt: A comfortable teal sofa with intricate, otherworldly embroidery is the visual focus of this masterpiece digitial painting. This couch is old, worn, and tatty, and is covered in infra-red embroidery depicting otherworldly beings and plants. The background is a glowing infra-red sigil which emits infra-red filaments which lead directly to the couch, implying the filaments are the source of thread for the embroidery on the couch.
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.
