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My first girlfriend was from a well-off family. I always felt somehow inferior going to their house. The father didn't like me too much, but he tolerated me. I tried my best though, mowing their lawn, helping with stuff. Plus she seemed happy with me.
I used to spend my weekends there quite often. This one Saturday she had to go to work, meaning I'd be at the house alone with her father for a few hours. We had agreed that I'd help her father with something the next day. After she left for work, I decided to snooze a bit more. Eventually I woke up to her father coughing loudly. I lifted my head up to see that he's outside of her room, standing in the stairway, painting the ceiling. I thought: ok, he's working already, I should go help him.
Then I noticed I had, in my sleep, taken off the duvet in the summer heat. The only thing I was wearing was my very uncomfortable, tight boxers with no stretch at all. I usually sleep completely naked, but since there were others around at their home, I compromised. The boxers had that center slit that (almost) no man ever uses, too.
After noticing I had chucked the duvet on the floor, my eyes caught my.. Well, my thing. Sticking out of that useless hole in the boxers. Fully visible to anyone with line of sight into the room. I quickly took the duvet back on and tucked what ever needed to be tucked back into its place. I tried to figure out what exactly was going on and came to the conclusion that my morning stiffness in these uncomfortable boxers had forced me to just... Find a way to break free.
I was, and still am, certain that initially her father had come into the room to wake me up, seen me sticking out of my boxers, and immediately left. His coughing in the stairway was his way of trying to wake me up without having to confront me and mine again. I got up and helped him paint, playing it cool, like nothing had happened at all.
I left my girl just a couple of months after that. I never told her this was the reason why. I just couldn't interact with her father anymore. Every time he looked at me, I thought I saw something in his face. Contempt or disgust. I don't know exactly. I couldn't bear the thought that when I'd eventually try to marry her, I'd have to ask him for her hand. The thought of him playfully assessing in his mind if I'm actually worthy of her daughter, with that one shameful vision flooding his mind's eye.. Even if he would've agreed, to me that blessing would have always been ill-founded.
This brings me back to AI-generated art, especially the video linked in the OP. The AI is the 17-year-old me, and I'm my first girlfriend's dad. I never really liked it, but at one point I may have thought we could figure something out, maybe it could even help me paint a ceiling, though letting it marry my daughter is still a long ways off. But once you've walked in on someone with their junk showing, you can't unsee it, and the wedding's pretty much off until further notice.
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so trance made using AI is a thing.
