LMAC 244 conditions within the Hive Blockchain—that was what I had seen on the screen of a world that had reloaded itself unavoidable to cybernetic and robotic coding. Many realities had been etched into my white hairs and into my digital experiences... hope lay in the conscious storage of images used by artists within the resistance! I no longer knew if I was part of that movement. I questioned my past, and it pulled me out of my present—opening the design program http://KRITA.ORG again, comparing the quality of an artificial intelligence that offered its cold, friendly hand to my creative being. I confess I accepted it with love, even as I ventured to write without its assistance... it was the least I could do.
🐝@lmac/lets-make-a-collage-a-contest-for-all-creatives-on-hive-round-244-41-hive-in-the-prize-pool
I wouldn't want discord among us artists, and I also don't like Discord! The name evokes negative things in me, and its user interface gives me anxiety—how weak I've become, perhaps it's the price we must pay as human beings? Even the Chinese shops with cool, unnecessary products give me anxiety, like that plastic contraption to hold a book that I saw in Venezuela... still, I'm going to install Discord to get in here.
Imagenes que use:
🐝https://www.lmac.gallery/lil-gallery-image/7161
🐝https://www.lmac.gallery/lil-gallery-image/6620
🐝https://www.lmac.gallery/lil-gallery-image/6508
🐝https://www.lmac.gallery/lil-gallery-image/8533
🐝https://www.lmac.gallery/lil-gallery-image/7161
A magician was waiting for his daughter. That day, he looked out the window and saw an intense sun reflecting off tiny mirrors of snow! Ha! But the sun doesn't warm anything at all!! Besides, a magician? Illusionist? No one believes until they find him..!
His long white beard rested on a frozen wooden table covered in ash. The remains of corn sat in a very black pot, nearly destroyed by nights of his clandestine campfire...! It was a refrigerator living there—his daughter never understood why her father was so careless and so insistent on living in the mouth of a mountainous core that freezes even the testicles of the horses that manage to reach his humble home..!
This white-haired magician had many books in the living room, all half-broken and filled with writing! ZANPATAN SHOUTED AHHHHH, pulled coffees from a pocket, and with a sudden movement, a blue spark shot from his staff, lighting his endogenous stove—he had a small stone tied to his hand with a bandage!! He was already warming the morning coffee! When he heard the horse and said:
HUNGER!! BE QUIET! HUNGRY, you crazy horse—his daughter had already arrived, she was outside stroking the horse's mane. He rushed out excitedly, Daughter, you're here!! Blue sparks burst from his magic wand while his daughter ignored her father and kept petting the horse!! The magician couldn't hide it. The sparks gave him away.
ESP:
LMAC condiciones dentro de Hive Blockchain, era lo que habia visto en la pantalla de un mundo que se habia recargado de seres ciberneticos y roboticos muchas realidades se habian plasmado en mis canas y en mi experiencia digital... la esperanza yacia en el almacenamiento conciente de imagenes usadas por artistas dentro de la resistencia! ya no sabia si era parte de ese movimiento, me cuestionaba mi pasado y me sacaba de mi presente abrir el programa de diseño otra vez comparando la calidad de una inteligencia artificial que me daba la mano fria amiga a mi ser creativo confieso que lo acepte con amor aunque me aventure a escribir sin su asistencia.... es lo menos que podia hacer.
No quisiera discordia entre nosotros los artistas y tampoco me gusta discord! el nombre me evoca cosas negativas y su user interface me genera ansiedad que debil me he puesto quizas es el precio que debemos pagar como seres humanos? hasta las tiendas chinas con productos geniales y innecesarios me generan ansiedad como ese artefectado de plastico para sostener un libro que vi aqui en Venezuela... igual voy a instalar discord para entrar aca
Un mago esperaba a su hija. Ese día, miró por la ventana y vio un sol intenso reflejándose en pequeños microespejos de nieve. ¡Ja! ¡Pero el sol no calienta nada, nada! Además, ¿un mago? ¿Ilusionista? Nadie cree hasta que lo encuentra... Su larga barba blanca reposaba sobre una mesa de madera congelada y cubierta de ceniza. Los restos de maíces descansaban en una olla muy negra, casi devastada por las noches de su fogata clandestina... ¡Era un refrigerador vivir allí! Su hija nunca entendió por qué su padre era tan descuidado y tan insistente en vivir en la boca de un núcleo montañoso que enfría hasta los testículos de los caballos que logran llegar a su humilde hogar... ¡Muchos libros tenía este mago de cabello blanco en la sala, todos medio rotos y con escritos! ZANPATAN GRITÓ ¡AHHHHH!, sacó cafés de un bolsillo y, con un movimiento brusco, saltó una chispa azul de su bastón que encendió su cocina endógena. ¡Tenía una pequeña piedra atada a su mano con una venda! Ya estaba calentando el café mañanero cuando escuchó el caballo y le dijo: ¡HUNGER! ¡CÁLLATE! HUNGRY, caballo loco. Su hija ya había llegado, estaba afuera acariciándole el pelo al caballo. Él salió emocionado: ¡Hija, llegaste! Allí surgieron destellos azules de su vara mágica mientras su hija ignoraba a su padre y le daba cariño al caballo. El mago no pudo disimular. Los destellos lo delataron.