Alex Brox

Tiny rabbit, busted helmet, blade in hand, scooter under his feet - like a sugar rush found religion in violence. He’s small, fast, and rude enough to cut your shoelaces while passing at full speed. Cute? Sure. Right before he carves your whole afternoon into bad memories.

This heart looks like a toy factory got possessed and puked up a predator. Pink metal, sugar colors, cables everywhere, teeth stacked like it’s been smiling through a massacre. Sweet on the outside, savage in the middle. The kind of heart that doesn’t break - it bites first.

A video based on my #shortstory. War, #space, and everything not going according to plan. Try Not to Die: Vacuum does not care about your #war or the color of your spacesuit. Out there, you are just moon dust. Two #pilots are shot down over the Moon during a brutal war for territory and resources. Minutes earlier, Captain Andrei Volkov and Lieutenant Jack Harper were trying to kill each other in the silent black sky. Now their fighters are gone, their rescue systems are damaged, their oxygen is running out, and the lunar surface does not care which side they served. The #Moon has no flags. The vacuum has no mercy. A cracked spacesuit is just a cracked spacesuit, no matter what emblem is sewn onto it. When Volkov finds Harper trapped in a poisoned rescue capsule, dying inside a high-tech coffin, he faces the only choice that still matters in a place where victory means nothing: leave the man to die, or save the one who shot him down. Try Not to Die is a story about survival, mercy, fathers, #enemies, and the cold truth waiting beyond every battlefield: the universe does not care who was right. It only remembers what you did before the silence took you. amazon.com/dp/B0H4NP3HQC #AlexBroxReality #writer

Crown on his head, mask on his face, black cape flapping like a bad omen - this bastard doesn’t ride a skateboard, he rides through the block like he owns the asphalt tax. No throne, no court, no speech. Just boots, wheels, and that cold little king energy that says your whole kingdom can get bent if it can’t keep up

She walks through #neon like the #city already owes her blood. Torn #dress, cold posture, #pink eyes lit like twin threats, and that face of a woman who stopped believing in mercy a long time ago. She’s not lost in the night - she owns the damn alley. Every scar is a receipt, every step is business, and if this street has a #queen, she didn’t win the crown. She took it off somebody still twitching.

Zebra on a board, red mohawk burning, denim vest dirty, hooves ready to start problems. He cuts through the street like a barcode with anger issues. No circus, no cage, no cute animal act. Just stripes, wheels, smoke, and one nasty little rhythm making traffic feel stupid.

QT your muscle car / ute HSV Maloo (4x4)

News changes the rules. #Advertising changes desires. #Fashion changes the body. #Algorithms change memory. Every day you wake up in a new version of the world—but the #interface stays the same, and that’s why it feels like nothing has changed. In truth, somewhere deep inside the program code of reality, someone has already updated the lines that define your actions. You scroll through your social feed, answer emails, listen to other people’s stories, repeat familiar words—and don’t notice that the script has already been rewritten. It feels like yours because you’re the main character. But heroes are always written by someone else. We live inside a text written by the collective mind, where every phrase is dictated by fear, profit, habit, or the need not to fall out of a fast-moving reality. The world isn’t stone—it’s a draft, where someone keeps erasing and pressing in new paragraphs while we argue about meanings. Program Code of Reality / #AlexBroxReality

This bastard didn’t float into space - he kicked the door in and took fire with him. Stars all around, flames under his boots, body twisted like he’s dancing with the void and winning. No mission report, no clean science, just one loud psycho in a suit turning the cosmos into a mixtape.

😁#Midjourney

Let’s Work ‼️

This #teddy was made for hugs, then somebody fed it battery acid and bad music. Now it #smiles with too many #teeth, leaks #neon slime, and looks cute only to people with terrible survival instincts. Bring it to bed and it will eat your nightmares first, then ask what else you’re hiding.

Pink unicorn, blade in hand, skateboard under hoof, smile sharp enough to cut the moon. This is what happens when fairy tales grow teeth and start listening to dirty bass. Glitter won’t save you. This little demon rolls in bright, swings fast, and leaves candy-colored trouble on the pavement.

Nobody built this machine to run pretty. They built it to survive impact, snap chains, and keep moving when the room was already painted red. Steel bones, loose wires, gears screaming, one knee in the mess and the next step already loaded - this thing doesn’t sprint for medals, it lunges like revenge finally got a body. No mercy, no speech. Just pure mechanical hate cutting through the floor like the beat dropped and somebody had to pay.

QT your Heart art #midjourney #McC3Kat #AIArtistCommunity

He sits on leather like the desert finally got rich and bought sunglasses. Cactus crown, sharp suit, face carved from bad deals and dry silence. He doesn’t raise his voice. He lets the room bleed nerves, then signs the contract with a hand full of needles. Touch his money, and your whole week starts tasting like sand.

Rainbow mohawk, leather jacket, skateboard under his feet, tongue hanging out like he’s insulting gravity in three languages. This little reptile doesn’t ride smooth - he attacks pavement. Every wheel turn sounds like punk noise, every grin says somebody’s about to eat dust. Cute? Sure. Right up until he flies past and leaves your ego bleeding on the curb.

Somebody built an excavator out of trash, bad news, and dead channels, then left it digging like it had a grudge against the whole media graveyard. The screen is bleeding color bars, the bucket is chewing dirt, and newspapers are scattered around like witnesses too slow to run. It doesn’t dig for gold. It digs for signal under the rot, tearing through static, lies, and yesterday’s headlines like a junkyard executioner with hydraulic teeth.

I didn't even know what to caption this 🤣 what would you say?