MidjourneyArt
Archive/January 2025

January 2025

175 works in 31 posts

one of those days

I've been thinking a lot about the past lately — All those encounters, all those lessons, and the place they've led me to now. Nourished by shallow pop dreams, I push and pull against my own mediocrity, A constant struggle not to drown in the comfortable gray. Why do they do this to us, feed us these empty illusions, Watching as we stumble, half-awake, through the maze of their making?

I’m a highly sensitive soul, finding my way through life. Yet sometimes the gentlest criticism can shatter my strength, leaving me drained as though I’ve toiled for days. I can’t help but wonder how it feels not to feel so deeply—perhaps it’s simpler, lighter, a calmer tide to navigate

Digital dreams I have. Never rest, never calmed. Cybernetic brain runs all the time

Over and over again until it's... over

You can try as hard as you want, but it will never be enough. Further and further

We weren't first. They did it a long time ago

Nothing rests; everything moves; everything vibrates. Only change is constant

Put your mask on! ##illustration Will ya?

betwen two worlds, where should I be?

Cats?

Always not good enough

We need to go back

And no marvel; for even Satan fashioneth himself into an angel of light

I am a bit tired these days. All for nothing. Do you know how that feels?

another night in paradise

Drawn to the glow, a cruel deceit, Fragile wings meet a cold defeat. No warmth, no flame, just empty light— A quiet death in endless night

Three sisters of death. It's too late to be late

in the darkest of nights

Does this remind you of anything?

it's not real

Guardian of the fallen forest

Should I fight or accept? Won't she always win?

Others walked this land long before us, leaving whispers in every breeze. Our footprints trace echoes of those who came first, mere ripples in an ancient tide

I've made some music that you can listen through Spotify or use on Instagram. Everything is so heavy. That's all, thank you

panopticum

Beneath my feet, a quiet force stirs—drilling through every dream. I keep following it, not knowing why

A weekend in the city

flow

When will she come?

new magic