rylaa
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    the liquid time of shut summer afternoon, through the window shades sunbeams trickle into the room, illuminating the lazy dust partcles in the air, so they seem like miniscule fireflies. the shadow of the ceiling ventilator makes its way slowly along the floor and the walls. on the table is a near empty bottle of whisky. a hand holds a full glass of it with a big melting icecube

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    More prompts from rylaa

    a tall and sweet woman walking through the streets in business attire with stockings, skirt, white blouse and blazer on a rainy day, her hair a nd clothes are dripping wet and her makeup is runny, but her mood is still bright woman, very tall, rain, wet hair, runny makeup, smile, sweet face, long hair
    Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing? Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing? Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing? Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing? They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow; The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow. Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning, Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?
    a gorgeous young woman in a semi transparent red gown wearing knee high roman sri-lanker sandals walks through a town of toy houses. the houses look like a toddler played with plastic and metal construction kit parts, and crammed together all wrong parts and colors. the woman destroys the houses as she goes and behind her is total destruction.
    best quality, detailed realistic photo, realistic, hyperrealistic, peace is a lie, there is only passion, through passion we gain strength, through strength power, through power victory, through victory our chains are broken, the force will set us free,
    extremely detailed, absurdres, raw photo, best quality, a mouthwatering perfect photo of a otoro fatty tuna nigiri, served on an artsysqure black plate with a knob of freshly grated wasabi. the ray skin grater and the wasabi root are neatly arranged on a wooden board together with tiny bowl of soy sauce
    an exploding head revealing all the dark and sinister and lustful thoughts that were buried inside
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    Tag meines Lebens! die Sonne sinkt. Schon steht die glatte Fluth vergüldet. Warm athmet der Fels: schlief wohl zu Mittag das Glück auf ihm seinen Mittagsschlaf? In grünen Lichtern spielt Glück noch der braune Abgrund herauf. Tag meines Lebens! gen Abend gehts! Schon glüht dein Auge halbgebrochen, schon quillt deines Thaus Thränengeträufel, schon läuft still über weisse Meere deiner Liebe Purpur, deine letzte zögernde Seligkeit ...
    extremely detailed, absurdres, raw photo, best quality, a mouthwatering perfect photo of a otoro fatty tuna nigiri, served on an artsysqure black plate with a knob of freshly grated wasabi. the ray skin grater and the wasabi root are neatly arranged on a wooden board together with tiny bowl of soy sauce
    Ich sage euch: man mu﷿ noch Chaos in sich haben, um einen tanzenden Stern gebären zu können. Ich sage euch: ihr habt noch Chaos in euch.
    the liquid time of shut summer afternoon, through the window shades sunbeams trickle into the room, illuminating the lazy dust partcles in the air, so they seem like miniscule fireflies. the shadow of the ceiling ventilator makes its way slowly along the floor and the walls. on the table is a near empty bottle of whisky. a hand holds a full glass of it with a big melting icecube.
    a portrait photo of an ethereal beauty, a cyberpunk girl bathing in neon light, her eyes are black as obsidian and a cruel smile plays on her lips, slightly exposing her pointy fangs, as she is searching for her victim, her hairs are very short on one side, but kong on the other, she wears black leather clothing
    an undead monster made from human an animal body parts
    better reign in hell than be a thrall in heaven
    a tall and sweet woman walking through the streets in business attire with stockings, skirt, white blouse and blazer on a rainy day, her hair a nd clothes are dripping wet and her makeup is runny, but her mood is still bright woman, very tall, rain, wet hair, runny makeup, smile, sweet face, long hair
    an undead monster made from human an animal body parts
    a portrait photo of an ethereal beauty, a cyberpunk girl bathing in neon light, her eyes are black as obsidian and a cruel smile plays on her lips, slightly exposing her pointy fangs, as she is searching for her victim,
    a geisha doing a tea ceremony in an ancient shinto temple. Her unsettling face hints at her being undead and her client is a shinigami, sitting across the table and sipping matcha from an artisan tea bowl.
    So will ich ihnen vom Verächtlichsten sprechen: das aber ist der letzte Mensch.« Und also sprach Zarathustra zum Volke: Es ist an der Zeit, da﷿ der Mensch sich sein Ziel stecke. Es ist an der Zeit, da﷿ der Mensch den Keim seiner höchsten Hoffnung pflanze. Noch ist sein Boden dazu reich genug. Aber dieser Boden wird einst arm und zahm sein, und kein hoher Baum wird mehr aus ihm wachsen können.[ Wehe! Es kommt die Zeit, wo der Mensch nicht sehr den Pfeil seiner Sehnsucht über den Menschen hinaus wirft, und die Sehne seines Bogens verlernt hat, zu schwirren! Ich sage euch: man mu﷿ noch Chaos in sich haben, um einen tanzenden Stern gebären zu können. Ich sage euch: ihr habt noch Chaos in euch. Wehe! Es kommt die Zeit, wo der Mensch keinen Stern mehr gebären wird. Wehe! Es kommt die Zeit des verächtlichsten Menschen, der sich selber nicht mehr verachten kann. Seht! Ich zeige euch den letzten Menschen.
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