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I asked my AI for ‘happily ever after.’ It showed me this instead.
Forget your fairytales. I’m programming a new kind of romance at the end of the world. My machine dreams of T-rex skeletons stomping down ruined catwalks in haute couture. It imagines lovers with cracked porcelain faces finding joy in the…
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My AI showed me the futility of everything. I’m still not okay.
Some artists use paint. I use existential dread as a prompt. I commanded my AI to visualize the rigged game of inequality and the sheer pointlessness of the daily grind. What it created haunts me. Imagine being stuck on a…
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I’m melting your world, one wax metaphor at a time. And I’m not sorry.
They told me to create something beautiful. So I decided to melt everything instead. I fed my machine concepts of burnout and decay, and it spat back these flickering nightmares. Watch tiny faces of hope dissolve from a wax skull.…
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I put my imposter syndrome on stage. Don’t tell me you can’t relate.
They say ‘fake it ’til you make it.’ So I did. I built a whole damn theater in my head for the performance. My star attractions? The crushing weight of your expectations, reimagined as a glass elephant on a tightrope.…
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I fed my AI the world’s despair. This is what it spit back out.
Everyone’s training their AI on sunsets and supermodels. Boring. I decided to go the other way. I scraped the bottom of the barrel, feeding my machine nothing but digital rot and decay. I showed it the polluted swamps, the wilted…
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I taught my AI to understand human connection. The results are… unsettling.
You think you know awkward? I’ve been teaching my machine the language of human connection, and it turns out the syntax is pure chaos. I’m not interested in your perfect, filtered moments. I’m digging into the code of our relationships—the…
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They called my art broken. So I taught it to dance on the ashes of empires.
I fed my machine the ghosts of fallen empires and the silence of desolate cities. I told it to find the punchline in the rubble, the beauty in the breakdown. What it spit back is a eulogy and a joke…
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My AI saw the cracks in your perfect city. This is what it found.
They build their cities out of gray concrete and silent rules, hoping we’ll all just become another brick in the wall. But I see the real art in the struggle. I fed my machine the soul of the city—not the…
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My AI’s vision of domestic bliss is a beautiful, chaotic mess. And honestly? Same.
They tell you family is about quiet dinners and polite conversation. I call bullshit. I prompted my AI with the truth about domestic life, and this is the beautiful disaster it dreamed up. It’s a world where breakfast isn’t just…