The ceiling is low and stained prompts

1 month ago

A rugged, soulful woman with long, wind-tousled hair spilling from beneath a weathered wide-brimmed hat plays a well-worn acoustic guitar on a small, wooden stage in a smoky, dimly lit bar. Her voice carries raw emotion as her fingers move with fierce, heartfelt intent over the strings. The warm amber light catches the strands of her hair, glowing against the cozy, rustic backdrop. Golden fairy lights are strung haphazardly across the low wooden ceiling, flickering softly over the aged, whiskey-stained bar. A glowing vintage jukebox hums quietly in the background, half-lost in the haze. The atmosphere is alive with murmurs, clinking glasses, and cigarette smoke curling in the air. Behind her, a gritty male musician—bearded, worn denim, quietly accompanying on bass—adds depth to the moment. The whole place feels real, intimate, like a hidden blues sanctuary where time slows down. The scene is captured in rich, cinematic tones with realistic textures, deep shadows, and the candid imperfection of a timeless moment frozen in 8K. --v 6 --ar 16:9 --style raw --q 2

3 months ago

First-person POV: you open your eyes while lying on a thin, hard mattress placed directly on the cracked linoleum floor of a cold, concrete-walled apartment. In front of you, your feet are visible under a faded wool blanket. Pale morning light seeps through a small, barred window covered in frost. The ceiling is low and stained. To the right, hanging above eye level, are two framed portraits of Kim Il-sung and Kim Jong-il, their eyes seemingly watching you even in the silence. The room is sparse—no furniture except a rusted metal cabinet and an old state-issued radio softly murmuring distant propaganda. Your breath fogs in the freezing air as the sound of a patriotic hymn echoes faintly from a loudspeaker outside. The atmosphere is quiet, rigid, and lifeless. The scent of old dust, damp cement, and faint coal smoke fills your lungs. Your body is stiff from the cold, and your fingers instinctively reach for the edge of the blanket, as if to pull reality back over your eyes. Visual specs: • 8K ultra-detailed cinematic realism, HDR, IMAX Laser style, stylize 750 • Camera: Canon R5 • Lens: 16mm • Aperture: f/4 • Lighting: weak dawn light from window, diffused and cold • Composition: perfectly centered first-person view, camera at eye level, feet visible stretched toward the wall

3 months ago

First-person POV: you open your eyes while lying on a thin, hard mattress placed directly on the cracked linoleum floor of a cold, concrete-walled apartment. In front of you, your feet are visible under a faded wool blanket. Pale morning light seeps through a small, barred window covered in frost. The ceiling is low and stained. To the right, hanging above eye level, are two framed portraits of Kim Il-sung and Kim Jong-il, their eyes seemingly watching you even in the silence. The room is sparse—no furniture except a rusted metal cabinet and an old state-issued radio softly murmuring distant propaganda. Your breath fogs in the freezing air as the sound of a patriotic hymn echoes faintly from a loudspeaker outside. The atmosphere is quiet, rigid, and lifeless. The scent of old dust, damp cement, and faint coal smoke fills your lungs. Your body is stiff from the cold, and your fingers instinctively reach for the edge of the blanket, as if to pull reality back over your eyes. Visual specs: • 8K ultra-detailed cinematic realism, HDR, IMAX Laser style, stylize 750 • Camera: Canon R5 • Lens: 16mm • Aperture: f/4 • Lighting: weak dawn light from window, diffused and cold • Composition: perfectly centered first-person view, camera at eye level, feet visible stretched toward the wall