mattdreamstuff

[mattdreamstuff]

AI is slop

It’s like saying pants are bad.

Yes and no.

[mattdreamstuff]

In the land of smiles, everyone cooks hot dogs. In the land of smiles, an old bum lurks. In the land of smiles, maggots crawl everywhere.

[mattdreamstuff]

The Road No One Returns From Somewhere on the highway, beneath the cold glow of the moon, the night whispers secrets best left unheard. A stranger waits, a grin too wide, teeth too sharp. The scent of blood lingers in the air, mixing with the dust of an abandoned roadside meal. You were never meant to stop here. You were never meant to see him. But now… it’s too late.

[mattdreamstuff]

Blue – A Haunting Short Film Brought to Life with MidJourney

[mattdreamstuff]

Blue Notte: A Haunting AI Generated Short Film

A descent into shadows, where reality and unresolved truths intertwine. This second short film takes inspiration from Blu Notte – Misteri Italiani, channeling its atmospheric tension, unsolved cases, and the eerie feeling that some mysteries refuse to stay buried. The night holds stories—some just need the right eyes to see them. ================================================ If you enjoy dark storytelling, horror, and surreal visions, here’s where you can find me: 📺 YouTube - @mattdreams85 🎥 TikTok - @mattdreamstuff_ 🎭 Patreon - patreon.com/mattdreams 📖 Substack - mattdreams.substack.com 📸 Instagram - @mattdreamstuff 🌙 Tumblr -  mattdreams.tumblr.com

[mattdreamstuff]

The Unseen Work Behind My 1st Short Movie: AI Trials, Budget Limits, and Unused Visuals

Bringing Blue to life was a journey shaped by experimentation. This wasn’t just about making a short film—it was about learning, pushing boundaries, and figuring out how to bend AI to my vision rather than the other way around.

A significant part of the process was mastering Midjourney and prompting. Generating images wasn’t as simple as typing a phrase; it required an understanding of how the AI interpreted language, structure, detail, and especially images. I had to adapt, refine, and experiment constantly to get closer to what I had in mind.

The inspirations behind Blue are numerous. Every frame carries weight, influenced by an array of references—literature, storytelling techniques, cinematographic styles, color theory, iconic film quotes, and even fashion. Yes, fashion. Every detail is deliberate, an echo of something influential.

But creating Blue wasn’t just a creative challenge—it was also a financial one. Budget constraints forced compromises. Even AI has its price; every rendered credit spent was a calculated decision. Depending on the budget you have you sacrifice stylistic choices and scenes, even if this happen on a very small scale in a one-week process.

Then came the real struggle: balancing my vision with what AI could depict without triggering its built-in censorship. The negotiation was constant—how far could I push before hitting the wall of moderation? Where the AI drew a hard line, I had to either rework my prompts or find ways to represent the raw intensity I refused to dilute. I also was able to come out with some ghastly scenes but rendering them in a way that had enough resolution to fit in a short movie was a challenge that I decided to skip for this time.

In the end, Blue exists as a delicate equilibrium between what I imagined, what AI allowed, and what I refused to compromise on. In the next post, I will leave there all the "director cuts" and unseen scenes. Stuff that I will probably use in further works and ideas. Meanwhile, you can watch Blue, here. ================================================ If you enjoy dark storytelling, horror, and surreal visions, here’s where you can find me: 📺 YouTube - @mattdreams85 🎥 TikTok - @mattdreamstuff_ 🎭 Patreon - patreon.com/mattdreams 📖 Substack - mattdreams.substack.com 📸 Instagram - @mattdreamstuff 🌙 Tumblr -  mattdreams.tumblr.com

[mattdreamstuff]

The Scenes YouTube and TikTok Didn’t Want You to See from My short movie

Not everything made it to the final cut. Some scenes were too much for YouTube—Tiktok wasn’t even an option. Censorship became another layer of the challenge, forcing me to rethink and rework moments that were meant to be felt, not just seen.

To shape my vision of hell, I generated an overwhelming number of images—testing, discarding, refining. Trial and error became part of the process, and even the rejects held something eerie, something usable. Now I’m looking at all this discarded material and wondering... should I let it rot in the archive, or does it deserve another life?

But here’s the thing—creation itself is not linear. There is no before or after, only a cycle where what comes next reshapes what came before. The process unfolds in an ouroboros loop, feeding itself, distorting itself, expanding into places I didn’t expect. The Blue short film barely scratched the surface, but what if it wasn’t just an origin point? What if what comes next rewrites its foundations?

I’m not sure if I should say this yet, but there might be room for a deeper dive. A more detailed descent. A journey straight into the abyss. Meanwhile, you can watch Blue, here. ================================================ If you enjoy dark storytelling, horror, and surreal visions, here’s where you can find me: 📺 YouTube - @mattdreams85 🎥 TikTok - @mattdreamstuff_ 🎭 Patreon - patreon.com/mattdreams 📖 Substack - mattdreams.substack.com 📸 Instagram - @mattdreamstuff 🌙 Tumblr -  mattdreams.tumblr.com

[mattdreamstuff]

Blue: Where the Unseen Watches Back (short movie)

This is my first attempt at translating the unsettling stories in my mind into short films. These ideas have lived in my head for a long time, waiting to take shape. Blue (see previous post) was the starting point—a descent into isolation, dread, and something far beyond comprehension. Now, I’m exploring those same themes through a visual lens, pushing AI to manifest what lingers between the lines.

You can watch it here. The blue never leaves. 🔵

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If you enjoy dark storytelling, horror, and surreal visions, here’s where you can find me: 📺 YouTube - @mattdreams85 🎥 TikTok - @mattdreamstuff_ 🎭 Patreon - patreon.com/mattdreams 📖 Substack - mattdreams.substack.com 📸 Instagram - @mattdreamstuff 🌙 Tumblr - mattdreams.tumblr.com

[mattdreamstuff]

Blue Hell - A short horror tale

The black asphalt unrolled before the car’s headlights like the tongue of a hungry animal. The sky was an inkwell, and the stars looked like pins randomly stuck into a black velvet curtain. Inside the cabin, Hank had spent the last four hours driving and chewing, chewing and driving, until night had fallen. The greasy wrappers from the hamburgers he had devoured and the empty bags of fries had piled up on the dashboard throughout the journey.

When he finally decided to take a break, he was sipping a soda with the ease of someone who had seen and done worse things than taking a sip while driving. In a way, he was forced to slow down because, along the way, he crossed paths with a small pack of coyotes standing in the middle of the road. They didn’t lower their gaze or run away; they simply disappeared lazily into the desert night, split in two by the headlights of his old car.

He pulled over to the side of the road. The headlights cast a cone of light onto a ground that was neither sand nor soil, just an inhospitable expanse of dust and rock. Hank downed the last of his soda in a few gulps. Then, without a second glance, he tossed the can out the window.

The radio had stopped working a while ago, and all that remained was background interference, white noise. White noise that was soon obliterated by one of his legendary burps. Precise, powerful, deep, prolonged. The kind of burp that had once earned him a gold medal at a small-town contest. It was a shame there was no one around to hear it.

He opened the door and stepped out to stretch his legs. The night was silent, and even the wind seemed to be holding its breath until it passed out. He took a few steps away from the car, unbuttoned his jeans with the intention of taking a piss. He was just about to let go, could almost hear the dry sound of urine hitting the dust, but then he stopped.

He noticed something. He lowered his gaze. Scratched into the dirt beneath his feet was a strange drawing. He squinted. Oh. There it was. Clearer now. An esoteric symbol. A pentacle. Hippie bullshit, he thought.

But then his jaw tightened. Lately, on those trashy online tabloids, the ones full of pop-ups and ads for dick pills, some stories had been making the rounds. Stories about a cult. A cult that supposedly gathered at night in the desert to sacrifice small animals and paint rocks with blood as offerings to malignant deities.

According to them, the devil was just a human invention, a face given to the essence of evil. But evil wasn’t tangible. It couldn’t be grasped. Sure, you could look it in the eye, but it was an ephemeral entity. You could have a clear and distinct perception of it, but you couldn’t see it directly. According to these lunatics—stick-thin, unkempt, peyote-fueled hermits—evil changed everything: shape, gender, age, ethnicity, face, features, place, time, space. But it retained one fundamental characteristic. It was permanent.

Fuck, was it permanent. Whether it came in the form of monsters, murderers, serial rapists, mass killers, car crashes, heroin, bats, worms, whores, cockroaches, or political changes—evil never went away.

The radio in the car began to crackle. A stuttering distortion, then a metallic sound, followed by something more human, but wrong. Drawn-out words, whispered, making no sense—maybe moans. Hank didn’t pay it much mind, but he leaned in to take a closer look at the pentacle still there, between his dust-covered cowboy boots. The urge to piss hadn’t gone away, but then everything, everything happened all at once.

Something bit down on him from the inside. Not with teeth. No. With the mind.

It was something primal, eternal, and above all—hungry.

His mind was torn open by the vision of a hellish place.

But it wasn’t red with flames and smoke, like one would expect from a hell. No. Everything in that place of torment was blue.

Blue like rotting flesh exposed to the air. Blue like an ocean of cold poison. Blue like the saddest day in an eternity of broken bodies and dislocated jaws that could make no sound.

And for a moment, Hank had seen everything. And everything had seen him back.

His breath caught in his chest. His mouth opened, but not to scream—because he knew that screaming wouldn’t do a goddamn thing.

The blue had touched him.

And the blue would never leave. ================================================

If you enjoy dark storytelling, horror, and surreal visions, here’s where you can find me: 📺 YouTube - @mattdreams85 🎥 TikTok - @mattdreamstuff_ 🎭 Patreon - patreon.com/mattdreams 📖 Substack - mattdreams.substack.com 📸 Instagram - @mattdreamstuff 🌙 Tumblr -  mattdreams.tumblr.com

[mattdreamstuff]

Nightmarish blue

A shadow moves in the dark. A held breath. The cold metal reflecting the moonlight. She realized too late that she wasn’t alone. But you... have you already sensed it? More on my Patreon.

[mattdreamstuff]

He’s Already Inside. The house sits in silence, glowing softly against the night. Inside, a presence moves through the shadows—steady, deliberate. A gloved hand reaches for the window. A knife gleams in the cold light of the fridge. Somewhere in the darkness, he watches. He waits. You locked the door, didn’t you?

[mattdreamstuff]

Sometimes I wake up and it's dark

Perform the ritual that puts me in the part

But I sang them every word I had

Seems like they're never gonna understand

[mattdreamstuff]

From the bar of my rotten dreams, comes jazz and the smell of dog.

Scattered skeletons, sipping time from empty glasses. They smoke slowly, without fingers, silent toasts, gum and saliva. Chatter of skulls at the counter.