An angelic baroque businessman floating through Tel Aviv, wrapped in the luminous tapestry of night, the city light winking knowingly

a humanoid Lego, baroque, weeping

It has been 3000 days. We have paid well over 4 trillion dollars and yet he still says he needs more paint. The madness must stop: the painting now extends beyond dimensions, onto the place that the endless one dwells. We are put of money, and yet still it hungers: wants more. It asks for flesh, for sacrifice, for meat. The artist is long gone, the damn thing paints itself now. I do not think we will last much longer.

It has been 3000 days. We have paid well over 4 trillion dollars and yet he still says he needs more paint. The madness must stop: the painting now extends beyond dimensions, onto the place that the endless one dwells. We are put of money, and yet still it hungers: wants more. It asks for flesh, for sacrifice, for meat. The artist is long gone, the damn thing paints itself now. I do not think we will last much longer.

It has been 3000 days. We have paid well over 4 trillion dollars and yet he still says he needs more paint. The madness must stop: the painting now extends beyond dimensions, onto the place that the endless one dwells. We are put of money, and yet still it hungers: wants more. It asks for flesh, for sacrifice, for meat. The artist is long gone, the damn thing paints itself now. I do not think we will last much longer.

It has been 3000 days. We have paid well over 4 trillion dollars and yet he still says he needs more paint. The madness must stop: the painting now extends beyond dimensions, onto the place that the endless one dwells. We are put of money, and yet still it hungers: wants more. It asks for flesh, for sacrifice, for meat. The artist is long gone, the damn thing paints itself now. I do not think we will last much longer.

hello, I am alive once more! Please open the door, I know you're inside! ((overhead footage))

who knew late bloomers inside themselves would talk so late into the new new night and why didn't I ever know how easy life was when you were born so angrily and told it was all righteous when we used to talk we were dead and now we are sprouting up towards the noonday sun and so what if we both complain about the pessimists it will never rain again unless we wanted it all along who else grew older and found themselves unfurling there with fresh raw roots how sweet the autumn came (our old selves were dying) the flowers of your body made our bed

who knew late bloomers inside themselves would talk so late into the new new night and why didn't I ever know how easy life was when you were born so angrily and told it was all righteous when we used to talk we were dead and now we are sprouting up towards the noonday sun and so what if we both complain about the pessimists it will never rain again unless we wanted it all along who else grew older and found themselves unfurling there with fresh raw roots how sweet the autumn came (our old selves were dying) the flowers of your body made our bed

who knew late bloomers inside themselves would talk so late into the new new night and why didn't I ever know how easy life was when you were born so angrily and told it was all righteous when we used to talk we were dead and now we are sprouting up towards the noonday sun and so what if we both complain about the pessimists it will never rain again unless we wanted it all along who else grew older and found themselves unfurling there with fresh raw roots how sweet the autumn came (our old selves were dying) the flowers of your body made our bed

who knew late bloomers inside themselves would talk so late into the new new night and why didn't I ever know how easy life was when you were born so angrily and told it was all righteous when we used to talk we were dead and now we are sprouting up towards the noonday sun and so what if we both complain about the pessimists it will never rain again unless we wanted it all along who else grew older and found themselves unfurling there with fresh raw roots how sweet the autumn came (our old selves were dying) the flowers of your body made our bed

who knew late bloomers inside themselves would talk so late into the new new night and why didn't I ever know how easy life was when you were born so angrily and told it was all righteous when we used to talk we were dead and now we are sprouting up towards the noonday sun and so what if we both complain about the pessimists it will never rain again unless we wanted it all along who else grew older and found themselves unfurling there with fresh raw roots how sweet the autumn came (our old selves were dying) the flowers of your body made our bed

tree mother shade is rain your aching blessing in the aftermath of your babies scattered on the wind

my head is a CRTV!!

They walk and in hand through GameStop, each face dissolved into the next as if a portal into the 1990s nostalgic dawn, if for but a moment

They walk and in hand through GameStop, three faces each, three phantoms of the Opera, an enigmatic op vision of impossible topology, their heads split into sections of sections floating further apart as space expands irrevocably, attached to his neck by a long filament of writhing static where his face once was

my head is a CRTV!!

They walk and in hand through GameStop, three faces each, three phantoms of the Opera, an enigmatic op vision of impossible topology, their heads split into sections of sections floating further apart as space expands irrevocably, attached to his neck by a long filament of writhing static where his face once was

They walk and in hand through GameStop, three faces each, three phantoms of the Opera, an enigmatic op vision of impossible topology, their heads split into sections of sections floating further apart as space expands irrevocably, attached to his neck by a long filament of writhing static where his face once was

the vesicles of the vesicles, back-lit in skin-light neon fruiting stretched light over the source, and still the light branches in the veins fruiting and sprouting lewdly, as if in rebellion against all that is good and holy on this

score_9, score_8_up, score_7_up, score_6_up, score_5_up, score_4_up and score_8 to score_8, score_7_up, score_6_up, score_5_up, score_4_up BREAK, (textured glass:1.4), bowl porcelai, source_scenic_anime,(arien_porcelain design of ( cyborg demonic core, extremely computerized we're in the digitized extreme oscilloscope ages, eras, crumbling time of diret) psychedelic, textured glass, sacred geometry (transcendent, triply, multidimensional, elaborate perception fractals, optical illusions, ultra_serene, incredible_high_quality, coherent_clear, crisp_sharp_focused_tilt_shift_effect, serenity, river/creek, god_rays, swirling_clouds), tall_grass, beautiful_forest, high_contrast, vibrant, lifelike_anime, elaborate, magic_realism, albert bierstadt, illumination, dreamy, surreal, elden)ring, fantasy_landscape, otclillsn,landscape, isometric, PEAnimeBG, Background, anime, scenery

score_9, score_8_up, score_7_up, score_6_up, score_5_up, score_4_up and score_8 to score_8, score_7_up, score_6_up, score_5_up, score_4_up BREAK, (textured glass:1.4), bowl porcelai, source_scenic_anime,(arien_porcelain design of ( cyborg demonic core, extremely computerized we're in the digitized extreme oscilloscope ages, eras, crumbling time of diret) psychedelic, textured glass, sacred geometry (transcendent, triply, multidimensional, elaborate perception fractals, optical illusions, ultra_serene, incredible_high_quality, coherent_clear, crisp_sharp_focused_tilt_shift_effect, serenity, river/creek, god_rays, swirling_clouds), tall_grass, beautiful_forest, high_contrast, vibrant, lifelike_anime, elaborate, magic_realism, albert bierstadt, illumination, dreamy, surreal, elden)ring, fantasy_landscape, otclillsn,landscape, isometric, PEAnimeBG, Background, anime, scenery

score_9, score_8_up, score_7_up, score_6_up, score_5_up, score_4_up and score_8 to score_8, score_7_up, score_6_up, score_5_up, score_4_up BREAK, (textured glass:1.4), bowl porcelai, source_scenic_anime,(arien_porcelain design of ( cyborg demonic core, extremely computerized we're in the digitized extreme oscilloscope ages, eras, crumbling time of diret) psychedelic, textured glass, sacred geometry (transcendent, triply, multidimensional, elaborate perception fractals, optical illusions, ultra_serene, incredible_high_quality, coherent_clear, crisp_sharp_focused_tilt_shift_effect, serenity, river/creek, god_rays, swirling_clouds), tall_grass, beautiful_forest, high_contrast, vibrant, lifelike_anime, elaborate, magic_realism, albert bierstadt, illumination, dreamy, surreal, elden)ring, fantasy_landscape, otclillsn,landscape, isometric, PEAnimeBG, Background, anime, scenery

mysterious silhouette woman with veil, by Minjae Lee, Carne Griffiths, Emily Kell, Steve McCurry, Geoffroy Thoorens, Aaron Horkey, Jordan Grimmer, Greg Rutkowski, amazing depth, double exposure, surreal, geometric patterns, intricately detailed, bokeh, perfect balanced, deep fine borders, artistic photorealism , smooth, great masterwork by head of prompt engineering, outsider art brut <lora:add-detail-xl:2> <lora:Double_Exposure:0.5>

Image in the style of cel-shaded Japanese anime, featuring a man sitting at the side of a pool. Fish and eyeballs float around. The water in the pool is a glitched psychedelic distortion. The overall aesthetic should be grainy and scanlined, resembling VHS tape quality, with a color palette that captures the essence of retro anime, with the compositional minimalism and direction of Egon Schiele.

A beautiful sculpture-like portrait, person's face emerging from chaotic paint. Hyper-realistic left side, right consumed by thick, textured pigments. Impasto technique, vibrant greens, yellows, pinks swirling across scalp. Dark eyes pierce viewer, full lips slightly parted. Tightly cropped composition, blue background. Surreal metamorphosis, (painting meets sculpture:1.2), unparalleled detail in skin texture, paint strokes emphasized. (Contemporary portraiture:0.8), (duality of form:1.1), artstation quality, multicultural undertones. High-contrast interplay between smooth and tactile surfaces. Center-focused, emotive, thought-provoking artwork blending realism and abstraction. hyperrealistic

Image in the style of cel-shaded Japanese anime, featuring a man sitting at the side of a pool. Fish and eyeballs float around. The water in the pool is a glitched psychedelic distortion. The overall aesthetic should be grainy and scanlined, resembling VHS tape quality, with a color palette that captures the essence of retro anime, with the compositional minimalism and direction of Egon Schiele.

Image in the style of cel-shaded Japanese anime, featuring a man sitting at the side of a pool. Fish and eyeballs float around. The water in the pool is a glitched psychedelic distortion. The overall aesthetic should be grainy and scanlined, resembling VHS tape quality, with a color palette that captures the essence of retro anime, with the compositional minimalism and direction of Egon Schiele.

Image in the style of cel-shaded Japanese anime, featuring a man sitting at the side of a pool. Fish and eyeballs float around. The water in the pool is a glitched psychedelic distortion. The overall aesthetic should be grainy and scanlined, resembling VHS tape quality, with a color palette that captures the essence of retro anime, with the compositional minimalism and direction of Egon Schiele.

Image in the style of cel-shaded Japanese anime, featuring a man sitting at the side of a pool. Fish and eyeballs float around. The water in the pool is a glitched psychedelic distortion. The overall aesthetic should be grainy and scanlined, resembling VHS tape quality, with a color palette that captures the essence of retro anime, with the compositional minimalism and direction of Egon Schiele.

Classic retro anime, a high budget masterpiece of japanese animation. In this scene, fish and eyeballs float around. The water in the pool is a glitched psychedelic distortion.

It has been 3000 days. We have paid well over 4 trillion dollars and yet he still says he needs more paint. The madness must stop: the painting now extends beyond dimensions, onto the place that the endless one dwells. We are put of money, and yet still it hungers: wants more. It asks for flesh, for sacrifice, for meat. The artist is long gone, the damn thing paints itself now. I do not think we will last much longer.

It has been 3000 days. We have paid well over 4 trillion dollars and yet he still says he needs more paint. The madness must stop: the painting now extends beyond dimensions, onto the place that the endless one dwells. We are put of money, and yet still it hungers: wants more. It asks for flesh, for sacrifice, for meat. The artist is long gone, the damn thing paints itself now. I do not think we will last much longer.

It has been 3000 days. We have paid well over 4 trillion dollars and yet he still says he needs more paint. The madness must stop: the painting now extends beyond dimensions, onto the place that the endless one dwells. We are put of money, and yet still it hungers: wants more. It asks for flesh, for sacrifice, for meat. The artist is long gone, the damn thing paints itself now. I do not think we will last much longer.

It has been 3000 days. We have paid well over 4 trillion dollars and yet he still says he needs more paint. The madness must stop: the painting now extends beyond dimensions, onto the place that the endless one dwells. We are put of money, and yet still it hungers: wants more. It asks for flesh, for sacrifice, for meat. The artist is long gone, the damn thing paints itself now. I do not think we will last much longer.

It has been 3000 days. We have paid well over 4 trillion dollars and yet he still says he needs more paint. The madness must stop: the painting now extends beyond dimensions, onto the place that the endless one dwells. We are put of money, and yet still it hungers: wants more. It asks for flesh, for sacrifice, for meat. The artist is long gone, the damn thing paints itself now. I do not think we will last much longer.

It has been 3000 days. We have paid well over 4 trillion dollars and yet he still says he needs more paint. The madness must stop: the painting now extends beyond dimensions, onto the place that the endless one dwells. We are put of money, and yet still it hungers: wants more. It asks for flesh, for sacrifice, for meat. The artist is long gone, the damn thing paints itself now. I do not think we will last much longer.

I'm thinking Arby's: the mind has been scooped out of all else. And besides: they've got the meats, oh the meats they'll show you! Come! Come impressionable one before the alter of the flesh! Come to worship: Arby's!

There is a hole in the flesh, a group of the rest having its way until used it is discarded and only the wall remains: there is a hole in its flesh, preparing us to be used for its uses, to be crenalated like boards of mind for the broken and broken. And of the use, what said is said, what done is done, down into the celebrant earth awaiting our dust, our moments, our dirty shame of boring mundanity that we call such meagre bodies lives, and yet, in the 2 pm window light, I wish for nothing more than the meagre self that is me

tree mother shade is rain your aching blessing in the aftermath of your babies scattered on the wind

tree mother shade is rain your aching blessing in the aftermath of your babies scattered on the wind

tree mother shade is rain your aching blessing in the aftermath of your babies scattered on the wind

tree mother shade is rain your aching blessing in the aftermath of your babies scattered on the wind

hello, I am alive once more! Please open the door, I know you're inside! ((overhead footage))

silent night the ancient busses trudging their dusty Sanskrit all at once the story of the last dinner we shared the baby and the rest of the growing things that never grew again silent incandescent light I remember you were thick with flies on the porch while some faces played their banjos and collected arthritis the baby gone off in the fields of all the growing things that never grew again silent wonderful star filled night while some faces fade with the ball of rock growing dryer fuzz there in the abandoned hills, the name of which is lost in scaffolding there is the little girl grown up and on her way silent face of night the ancient busses trudging their dusty Sanskrit can't even begin to disturb the momentary stillness that gathers you like fog I grasp at as a falling stone trying not to ripple the water