EDIT (11/13): It's come to my attention that the default option is now OPT-OUT. Small miracles and all that.
Look, all you kids telling DALL-E to cobble something together may think the AI-generated imagery is all benign (why?), but I live in a world of ever-encroaching tech. I remember the internet before everyone and their dog had Facebook. Maybe I'm cynical as all get-out, maybe I'm built different, but tech so advanced now that I've become a luddite.
First things first: Everything on this account is staying because 1) I've opted out of the AI-sourcing the minute I learned I could do so and 2) I'm stubborn.
To opt out of this new iteration of the AI-generated "art" craze: Go to the "General" page of your settings, and click the checkmark under "Tell AI Datasets They Can't Use Your Content" - https://www.deviantart.com/settings/general
There's also a Google form where you can opt out: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLScBl3RIkgoVJh89rWOSd-bz_FdlCZGSUho4ADhG2rmCq3dVPg/viewform
Truth be told, I fell out of love with photography a long time ago (I'm convinced that Instagram irreparably ruined it). My internet shenanigans are pretty much contained to Tumblr, Ao3, and a handful of browser games. As far as I'm aware, I'm the only LaikaFlash on Discord.
I'm so tired of the internet. It used to be enjoyable, I swear.
Carpe Diem
I caught the sun
From the boughs of a pine
No clouds were there to hide its shine
So I sought to make it mine
I seized it like a hungry hawk,
Wanted only to claim it for my own
Only to feel flames at my bones
And fall to the ground like a stone
Struck blind and scorched,
For such a desire so grand
Nothing gained, only now I understand,
But blind eyes and blackened hands
ConsummationI found my wedding bed in the snow
Without my father to give me away.
The wind lifts the fog like a veil,
While bare willow branches beckon and sway.
The wind whispers and bites my face,
And teases my hands and hair.
I lie on my back and sink into the snow,
And watch my breath vanish into the air.
I’ve cast off my gown, for it holds no warmth.
My flushed skin fades to blue.
I lay splayed as snow falls like petals,
Waiting for my bridegroom to return anew.
Seized by a cold embrace, I gasp and writhe.
Our witness is the moon, stained red.
At last, with one last breath I find release
As it gathers and shrouds my head.