[ENTER THE MULTIVERSE]

'ACTION!'

Collection II - 'antithesis.'

Track 09. ‘ACTION!'

Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū

Previously on

(Whatever, I Give up. )

HALLE BERRY

is that how you spell it

It is for now. Fuck going online

“That ain't part of my day”

Shut up Drake, not now.

You'll thank me later

“If You're Reading This, It's Too Late”

[HALLE BERRY is taking A VERY PAINFUL SHIT, clutching her *favorite OSCAR award--

Which one's her favorite?

CUT TO:

BEFORE

HALLE BERRY looks over her OSCARS in the display cabinet, carefully scanning them, with a New York Times paper tucked under her left arm, sipping from the coffee cup in her right hand.]

—I like this guy.

The other OSCARS groan; they are often overlooked during this process.

Come on!

This guy!

AGAIN!?

UGH.

CUT BACK TO:

[HALLE BERRY clenches painfully, sweating audaciously—at the worst possible moment, her cellphone rings. ]

WHAT THE—COME ON

I THOUGHT I WAS IN AIRPLANE MODE.

(I just found out The Illuminati can still make calls go through in airplane mode

Or without cell service at all)

wtf my phone is ringing.

That's weird. You don't even—

—I don't even have a phone.

Right.

(Seriously, my phone is disconnected. I didn't even pay my bill.)

The fuck.

[it's JIMMY FALLON]

Damn. This dude has the worst possible timing ever.

Like fucking ever.

Always shows up at the worst

—THE WORST MOMENT.

[HALLE BERRY rejects the call. It rings again]

WHAT THE—

[She ignores the second call. A moment of subtly relaxed silence, until—

[JIMMY FALLON appears in the ceiling window of the bathroom. HALLE BERRY SCREAMS, still fluting her OSCAR.]

(Calmly, kind of)

Hey,

WHAT THE FUCK, JIMMY.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

I called first!

I KNOW THAT—

Went to voicemail.

YOU SHOULDN'T BE HERE.

Just—calm down.

NO.

Look.

GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!

I'm not in your house, I'm outside your house. Technically.

—yeah, but your FACE is in my house—

—I hear that's the best part.

—What?!

Listen—

Get out—

No, look, listen—

I need to borrow your Oscar.

What?! For what?!

That's not important.

Oh really?!

Yeah.

It seems important.

It's not that important

Just—-

What!

Give it to me!

[He snatches the OSCAR and tosses her his GRAMMY.]

Just—trade me.

What! What for?!

Just—trust me—

I do not—

Just trust me—!

WHAT!

Congratulations.

As you were.

Kind of.

WHAT—JIMMY—

[She realizes the ridiculousness of her calling after him. She sits awkwardly with the Grammy in her lap, sighing]

—he was my favorite…

[SUDDENLY, though the other window

Why does this bitch have so many windows in her bathroom that are this penetrate?

For the sake of the joke, but probably not something any celebrity should have, are windows where anyone can enter your house from the outside.

Fans are weird.

CUT TO:

AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

I LOVE YOU.

CUT TO:

What's this place.

It's my house,

Where are the windows?

They don't exist.

CUT BACK TO

[DANE COOK appears through the opposite window.]

YO.

WHAT THE FUCK!

Chill, Halle Berry.

WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!

I'm the guy who wrote this.

You should have called first!

Who do I look like, Jimmy Fallon?!

NO. I LIKE HIS face.

Huh.

Is that what it is…

I GUESS

I DONT KNOW.

—who are YOU—?!

GET OUT OF MY HOUSE—

I am not in, technically—

I DONT CARE!

Ooh—

Is that a Grammy award?!

I didn't know you had a Grammy!

Gimmie!

[he snatches the Grammy]

HEY!

Is—what is this, for COMEDY?!

FOR COMEDY?!

WHY WASN'T I MADE AWARE THAT THIS IS A THING?!

I DON'T KNOW,

WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?

WHAT THE FUCK.

It's not important.

What.

Anyway, thanks.

Toodeloo.

‘The equilateral triangle should always be centered.'

—use that vocal trick from compli—sometimes things get whatever

//

What's he reading?

Architecture?

‘Oh; that dude's fancy.'

Interior design?

Classy.

He's sexy.

That dude's fancy.

lol wtf is in my Amazon cart right now?

Uh—

Some yoga mats

Kettlebells

A record player that looks like a gramaphone

A Pilates machine

A peloton

Uhm

Frozen berries.

When did you become a ghost?

—I guess— I always was one.

This is wrong.

There must be a mistake.

You and I both know,

There are no mistakes

Made by us.

This is dangerous.

That, you are correct about, dear boy.

However,

The only one here mistaken,

Is you.

Oh God,

If I fall back into this dream again

Who knows how long it might be

Until I come out.

—or if you come out at all.

The pressure points

Besides my veins,

Or arteries,

For scientific purposes

Targets for thumb marks,

Thimbles and razorblazes

Misfortune to have found

Such a pain only grows,

Out of homeless,

And then once housed,

A lack of love from others

I've an entire cast of antiques

In the back of my mind,

Behind me, Manhattan

The coffee has cooled

And yet nothing such starts

Until I've gone and bulleted

All the sins of the father

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 |

THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.

That thing that you wanted is waiting.

Which thing?

Love?

Money?

Fame?

Power?

Protection?

Safety?

Wealth?

…Cream of Wheat?

Cream of wheat?

…it's probably cream of wheat.

{Enter The Multiverse}

…did you mean to do this?

Nobody ever really means to do this.

[The Festival Project ™ ]

When the fear falls off,

And the others go over your shoulder,

But you're the one to tumble

In the over, under

Over under

Hello,

I'll be right there

Hello,

I'm back again

(Hello)

I can't feel much,

But i'm back again

I'm sure the full feel

Will kick back in

Will kick back in soon, so

Tune in,

Chill out

Keel over,

But don't let it kill you

Is that appealing enough

To appeal you

Is that hypnotic enough

To heal you?

Hello.

The drummer keeps himself calm,

With a couple rolls just to check his pulse

Looking up at God,

Like what do you want

A spot on the show

The name of the bassist,

A way to get Kurt back

without swallowing a

Hearthrob

She's dressed up like us,

But she's not like up

She's dressed up,

But she's not like us

She could be up here,

But she won't like it

The song was a story

The storm had passed,

Wanted the studio tour,

And I got that

I'll be right back,

I'll be right there

Get it right, God

Blow you whole chance

Okay, Jimmy Fallon.

Ah huh.

I can do your job.

Uh huh.

Lets see if you can do mine.

That can happen.

Meanwhile,

At Rockerfeller Plaza

LOOK OUT BELOW.

CHRISTSCICLES.

WHERE'S THE TREE??

THERE'S NO TREE. THIS IS JULY.

Where's the time machine.

When are we!?

HELLO>

NOO.

THERE S/HE IS

[Rollerskating away as quickie as possible;

Attepmpts to jump barrier

–fails–

Recovers.

GET BACK HERE

WHERE ARE YOU GOING TO GO?

[Running furiously away on roller skates

YOu suck at this.

What.

Bro. I thought Skrillex was the greatest shapeshifter of all time.

I am Skrillex, though.

Besides.

I CAN TELL THAT'S YOU.

It's not me.

I CAN SEE YOU, JIMMY.

I'm SHAPESHIFTER. SHAPE-SHIFTING.

Nahhh.

Youu–

stop doing this.

Stop doing what.

You know what.

I don't know.

You're gonna get me in trouble with the Network.

I own the network.

AHA.

Dammit .

YOU LOSE.

SUCKAH.

Shut up. You're drunk.

UGH.

[Rollerskate chase scene.]

(A montage, obviously)

GET BACK HERE.

YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME.

Where are you gonna go!

SOMEWHERE!

You can't run up stairs in rollerskates.

I CAN. AND I WILL.

[Does, but gets to the top of the stairs and fails miserably. ]

EVERYBODY

Oooh!

[Recovers.]

I'm okay!.

GET HIM/

GET HER

GET “THEM”

–that's so stupid.

GET IT.

GET IT.

GET IT!

CUT TO:

[Outside the door.]

GET IT, JIMMY! GET IT.

CUT TO :

[Inside]

[Don't worry. they're just playing video games.]

Lol that is funny.

But i can't write that.

just –write it.

No way, dawg.

Just–

Just–

No way–

Pay me first.

Then it really sounds bad.

Shut up and eat your ice cream, JImmy Fallon.

{Jimmy Fallon is eating his own ice cream.]

EW.

lol

What the fuck flavor is that anyway?

Idk.

“The Tonight Dough”

I learned not to cry,

By the time I got to you, and

Sometimes I wonder why
I just can't write a song these days

The words come,

But the music's gone

It's just motorcycles and

Loveless nights

Sleeping on top of the covers

Something about tennis,

I don't remember
Should have done something

More special

than script this

I'm just the luckiest bitch alive

To live alone

I should be thriving

I don't want more in the world

than a quiet road to calm my inward soul

White world:

White girls

Big perks

My curse

I got it out of the mud

I fished a world out the trash

I got roaches on motorcycles

Roaches on motorcycles

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.

Why is he so perfect

And I even more of a ghost,

than he ever would be

–the hanged man

What's another world

Or the word on my shoulders

Who better than God to belay me

Betray you

Atreyu

Tell me

Mr. Pretty Perfect Face

if we could be at heaven's gates

The day i finally hang

or fade away

(The hanged man)

What's it like

To be loved

To fall in love

To be loved like that

How's it feel

To fall in love

To be loved at all

What's it lke
To be loved
To be loved like that

To be loved like that

What Is it like

To be loved

At all?

What is it like

To be loved like that

To be loved like that

To be loved like that

To be loved

At all

the proscenium

Love at the proscenium,

A memory award of such

To know the difference from

The right, the left

Protagonist of all

Denumiere of none,

To live in fear of a world

Once thought to be

One

To go where you want me to;

You know I can't do that

But that thing in your back

To the left of the president

Must have been an attack

I want out of my body

Eyes roll to the back of my head

Like they ought to

When i'm thinking of you,

And i'm thinking of blue things
I'm thinking of blue days

I'll think of a few ways to

Love

The sound of a kiss

Your hand on my neck

The arch of my back

The taste of your tongue

I just ate twelve tacos though

God, I hate Vince Vaughn

Reminding me of all that I don't want

And already gone through

Pretending this selter is

alcoholic

and knowing it's been years since I touched soda

but carbonation is quite the sensation

after years without it

Now i've forgotten, also

How having sex is.

THe ghost came back

But that thing in his back

is attracting me

I'm a wreck

I went backwards

I'm hacked

and i'm back on my books

Something felt bad

It went harder than honest

the trackers are all out to hurt me

They call themselves starrs

Now the scars i've got all light up when I fall in love

And my ex hears the laugher

And rips it away

using demons on motorcycles

I try not to be happy,

Cause then here comes someone to stop it

I better not fall in love,

Someone's possessed with my son I guess

I just got back from surfing

I showed up at the Oscars.

I just decided I don't want a daughter.

I'm good.

Heart shaped box

I'm at least half a man;

Which one do you want?

Which thing do you need

Blacked out drunk

Don't remember doing the CAPTACHA

I want to start drinking again

But i need a babysitter

And someone to fuck afterward.

I'm wild bro;

I can't hold my liquor,

And i don't trust myself.

Actually, I can hold my liquor just fine;

I just don't trust myself

–and i definitely don't trust these niggas.

Nirvana is good for montages

God, I just want to get sauced up

Lost,

And not talk about this project at all

just mash parts

With God bodies

Now Cobain I know the ride you're on

Turn the page and you're an alien

Guess future fame just came and went

And here we are again

The words you spin

The gold, diamond, and spindles

Spend dinner with kisses and coaxes

In coat closets

No Messiah I am but a martyr

this sacrifice, hands on the cross

and blood on the alter

All you pretty girls don't know what it's like to be ugly

And unwanted

All the ugly girls are stuck settling in loveless heartless

I'm stuck here with concepts

A literal genius

Who nobody wants,

besides darkskins

And my ex husband

So fuck that

Where is David Letterman, anyway?

Letterman, David

–wherever he wants to be.

Fishing.

Lets hope–

What the fuck!

You missed it!

What the fuck!

You know what?

I know what it is.

No you don't.

I know what it is.

Maybe we shouldn't.

Maybe we already did, and we should just backtrack.

Backtrack! Backtrack!

Fucking Shapeshifters!

Fuck!

Listen, kid–

No, I'm not listening

I'm gonna let you in on a little secret.

No more secrets!

Do you know this woman?

Before:

You don't know me.

Yes.

GODDAMMIT, WAYNE.

What the fuck.

WAYNE BRADY

WHAT THE FUCK.

FINALLY.

NO. GET OUT OF HERE.

GET OUT OF WHERE?!

WHERE IS THIS?!

WAYNE'S WORLD.

NO. NO.

NO.

NO.

I don't even know what that's about.

Did you put the

–No.

Well, what about the sauce, did you finish the sauce.

no .

Finish the sauce.

ShutUP

Finish the sauce.

UGH.

Oh man.

What, what happened.

I just saw how it ends.

For–what?

Nothin

For what.

You know what?

What?

I gotta go.

Where's my Gun.

What? What gun?

TIA!

What in the

GET OVER HERE

[TAMERA]

Damn, so like

“Twin Teleporthy”

Oh SHIT.

SO you're telling me that's my–

UNCLE.

UNCLE.

UNCL–

Alright. Shut up.

Fuckin pussy.

ROUND TWO:

FIGHT.

AH. GODDAMN.

GOOOOODDDDDAAAMN.

There's a round 2?!

I guess so.

What happened in the first round?

I don't remember–

I do.

MEANWHILE:

here , kitty kitty…

[joel aka the actual deadmau5 is trapped in a cat or something]

Or SOMETHING.

Oh no, isn't he in someone else's body and they're looking for the cat.

Something about a cat.

They're looking for the cat.

Why, what's the cat do?

I'll tell you later.

I told you this wasn't a good idea.

It was a great idea. Until it wasn't.

“UNTIL IT WASN'T.”

Gosh. Shut up.

I don't think i should do this.

You shouldn't do this.

Right.

Just–stay sauced, bro.

Alright.

Damn dude, what is wrong with that guy?

Something.

I don't know.

Bitch, i'm a problem

Everybody hates me

Gotta pour my heart out

Gotta put my hat on

Long walk in a cold war

Long run in a hard part of town

Bitch, i'm a rockstar.

Don't talk too much

Don't say a word, girl

Actually, shut up

(You know i'm a problem)

Don't talk to much,

Shh,

Don't say nothing

Actually, shut up

You know i'm a problem

You know i'm a problem

Shut up

Bitch,

You know i'm a rockstar

You know i'm a problem

Shut up,

Bitch

You know i'm a rockstar

You know i'm a problem,

Shut up

Bitch

You know i'm a

Bitch

Shut up

You know i'm a

Bitch, shut up!

You know i'm a problem

You know i'm a problem

You know i'm a rockstar

You know i'm a problem

You know i'm a problem

You know i'm a rockstar

What did you just say?

Nothing .

Get over here you fugly little sandwich and say that to my face!

…did you just call me a ‘fugly little sandwich'?

I just did.

[beat]

I'm not arguing.

Oh, come on!

*shrugs*

Whatever.

*fucks off entirely*

Legs and eyes and the ocean of ears

Swords and hearts and the luck of the draw

Cones on cods and a car full of dust

Bottles on broads and the lost of the oars of untrusted

All of a sudden, I'm human

A whole kitchen table

Nonsense it calls to the others I wanted

So that's what's up with the time,

(This is always)

How's your eye?

How's your mom?

She's still dead.

I still love her.

It has to be a man,

You ought to know;

I've got a handle on it

Talk about a number

Talk about a God

Another lone wolf

Talk about the doctor

Where's your contract

Cut yourself over it

Talk about a monday

Honest, God

I told another story

Car Phone:

Stop it

Contracts!

Woah.

We're stuck in a holding pattern

The old ghost of Carson showed up

I loved him, I thought

That one's done,

I'll need another actor

Pause for laughter

Is that your tell,

Or your telegraph?

Is that a song or a paragraph?

Is this legit on the lawn

Of the Grand Ol Oprey?

Are you a God,

Or a Man

Either one:

Just show me

WOAH.

Carphone:

Stop it:

Contracts!

Yo.

It's over

I don't give a fuck about a fountain, yo

Just dance around and make me laugh

What else would I want from ya?

Nothin

The back of this dollar is golden

It's over!

It's over!

WOAH

Carphone:

Stop it

I love you,

Buddy–

Woah

I'm not your buddy

Blow up the carphone

Blow up the car,

Cause here comes Hollywood

Hey Hoe!

I AM NOT A HOE.

I'M THE OPPOSITE OF A HOE.

YOU'RE A HOE.

There he is.

Get him

THE SHOE DON'T FIT

THE SHOE DON'T FIT.

What if business is pleasure

your power, my love, gets me off
I don't want you for supper

I surf in the soup

Pull the tupperware

I want to be cordial

And loved by the whole of it

Everyone,

Even your mother

I want to be on the non-dairy dessert tubs

I want to be rubbed by a husband

no rubbers

No calls from the network

Nobody to bother us

Where exactly was I buried in the woods at?

You're good, dawg.

You're good, yo.

You're good, God

How about a rub and tug?

Then crank out the Carson?

I've been so obsessed with the tube and the tube socks

Since two tuesdays ago

I can't see you anymore.

Whatever, bro.

i broke up with you first.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.

CEREAL.
Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū

Oh, I remember this now.

Lol I remember the video.

It's that little kid that wants pancakes but get cereal and then the prize in the box is a fucking robot that follows him to school and starts a dance party everywhere and then takes over everything—then the aliens come get the robot and start an even bigger party and keeps the kid up way past his bedtime—then he wakes up the next morning like “that was wild as f” and his mom serves him pancakes, but then he sees there's another new box of cereal on the counter that says “NEW and IMPROVED prize! EVEN BETTER!” And his eyes just stay wide with grief.

Lol I can't believe I didn't remember that song.

I was like

“wtf is this”

Well, there are still two other songs I straight don't remember writing, so…

Let's check those out.

—let's check those out.

Oh, it's beat my face

(Reminds me of 212)

Didn't it have a video as well.

Idk.

Damn. I still have the other half of collection two to finish.

Technically If you just out the beats from collection I.I into collection II it's finished.

No.

No?

Collection I.I is collection I.I and collection II is collection II

Facts.

Damn. Why the fuck is collection II taking so fucking long.

Maybe because it's called “antelhesis”

I might never get to fucking collection VI.

I sit here like I'm soaked in the rain

Let go your government

They got you working on Sundays

Trying to torture the future president

Fuck em then

Who to call when you ain't got no dollars

No godform

Nothing to cook with the oats

And sorry broke pork bellies

Let go of your homeless

Don't worry,

When I slit open my wrists

And it just keeps bleeding

Till it fills up the streets

From my open windows, in kitchen

To the roads, over motorcycles

And riverbeds

Until the oceans cover

All your dollars in my blood

—a martyrdom for poverty.

Don't call the barrel of my gun by the name of a friend

If th verse is not a sing song

Poor Johnny

Don't fit the roads for shoes of horses

If only to swallow the subsealed waves of demons

Watch these possessions

Be my witness

Of the serpent

Both programmed torturer

To forage these words

And misfortunate

Recipient of karma

Soul focus shifting from being de—

—-railed.

I never heard this

With a producer's promise

Money back garunteed

All that isn't nessecary

You're divorced

With no children.

And going on 40

Trying to fight a robot

For an ombré sew on

Thank you Gos for this.

Right on,

Who was that you decided not to call on

As. Requested in sarcasm

And on Opposite Day!

SLIIIIIIIIIIIImmmm

That's almost funny

If I didn't know it was a program

Here's a fake laugh

For your weak ass

But no orgasm

For your lost cause

Part of getting stronger is developing the strength to lower your weights, not just to lift them.

Now I know I'm not wrong

But these energy vampires

Are putting my writing on a live wire

Remember live wire?

We should hire her.

Stop confusing people for pedophiles

When all it really is

Is that a wedding band is a cage

And the world is made on those who pray

On weakness.

—so most people are weak, then.

What else do I got to do wrong?

I want breakfast at Tiffany's

Don't be mad

If I wasted my time being honest

Wit no reward

Like it matters

Pennies on the dollar

Billions of dollars.

Trillions of dollars

Sins of the father

Chinaman from Amazon

Don't care much

For politics

Something wrong with mom

Yo, she's gone son

And it's all her fault, too

She never wanted you

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.

Everything over there

Sounds extracurricular

Particularly caricature of particle exteriors

The network owns that man

I can never see past that

Subliminal messages on the wire

His spare time is dollar signs

— I live wire

Cut the line

Ten Jimmy Fallon's for Dollar signs

More wordless songs, heartless

Pray for mothers and fathers

Sons and daughters

Sisters and brothers

(I'll see you never)

Doses of blow

Sermons phrases

Words and flows

Pillow talking to no one

Bet it all on a lost dollar

And broken condom

For crossword

Puzzles and

Got no passwords at all

Move forward

BOOK IV: Death

Serious sound off

If the flicker of a flame in silence

Can gather my frustrations

Than who am I

To call this my turf

My Father, I Am

Finding Fallon

Family Ties

Gallons of water

From Amazon market

“Don't do that”

Programmed show,

Of course

“Don't” was the word

That mean “go”

In the first place

Broken fingers

And golden rings

Tap water rashes

And food rations

Rash guards

And

Canned laughter for hire

Who am I though

Even to

“Don't”

—just write this?

I am

Though

At full frontal

At full fault

For my honest words

And honest thoughts

In a workforce of

Robots

And race wars

And harsh doors

Full stop signs

I passed go on too many

Occasions though

I can't laugh—

It's not funny, but had to be scribbled down

Somewhere goddamnit

My notepad is all backed up

My actual passion has no turnover

Pancakes, tho.

I don't owe it to anyone

To stay up until Monday

Suffering

All the day long

I just lost God

Your house is dirty-/

You love God

I'm dirt poor

But I love washing my dishes

And being called nigger

—my home's spotless;

I just got it

What's a grandfather

To Father Time

And hard karma

Besides credit karma

Try me down for a size

Turn me down for a change

I'm an hour a minute

A medical problem

A world war starts

At the sound of motorcycles

And illegal migration

At the cost of an entire nation of slaves

While senator makes top dollar

To haul on your daughter

For orgasms

And bottled water

Bitcoin

And join investments

Infestations of fungus in projects

And black mold where

You can't have that

(—and time and a half.)

My washing machine broke

When Donald Trump went into office

My dryer was fixed when addictions and short attention spans depended in Kamala for commas

Goddamn

If I was as bad at math as I am at laying down for lunch

I would have four sermons under the surface of this Sunday's short service

Reversal for curses from short dicks,

Could come recommended

I'm almost retarded from the sound of motorcycles

Seriously, stop it

It's a simple kitchen staple to pray for earning a body

Instead of exchanging bodily fluids and company for it

If I don't get a tummy tuck

I'll probably kill myself

(No truer words were ever spoke.)

I might as well summon the masses for the next cooking class

If I abide by the rules your next wife is my idol.

Welcome to my humble abode though: no one's home.

Welcome to the office

Take your shoes off at the door

And power off your phone

—cause Amazon's stalking us.

I'm not taking your ibuprofen

I generated your practice

happenstance in general hospital

to get a medical procedure out of this

immortal augmented reality in

Subliminal messages.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.

Everything over there

Sounds extracurricular

Particularly caricature of particle exteriors

The network owns that man

I can never see past that

Subliminal messages on the wire

His spare time is dollar signs

— I live wire

Cut the line

Ten Jimmy Fallon's for Dollar signs

More wordless songs, heartless

Pray for mothers and fathers

Sons and daughters

Sisters and brothers

(I'll see you never)

Doses of blow

Sermons phrases

Words and flows

Pillow talking to no one

Bet it all on a lost dollar

And broken condom

For crossword

Puzzles and

Got no passwords at all

Move forward

BOOK IV: Death

Serious sound off

If the flicker of a flame in silence

Can gather my frustrations

Than who am I

To call this my turf

My Father, I Am

Finding Fallon

Family Ties

Gallons of water

From Amazon market

“Don't do that”

Programmed show,

Of course

“Don't” was the word

That mean “go”

In the first place

Broken fingers

And golden rings

Tap water rashes

And food rations

Rash guards

And

Canned laughter for hire

Who am I though

Even to

“Don't”

—just write this?

I am

Though

At full frontal

At full fault

For my honest words

And honest thoughts

In a workforce of

Robots

And race wars

And harsh doors

Full stop signs

I passed go on too many

Occasions though

I can't laugh—

It's not funny, but had to be scribbled down

Somewhere goddamnit

My notepad is all backed up

My actual passion has no turnover

Pancakes, tho.

I don't owe it to anyone

To stay up until Monday

Suffering

All the day long

I just lost God

Your house is dirty-/

You love God

I'm dirt poor

But I love washing my dishes

And being called nigger

—my home's spotless;

I just got it

What's a grandfather

To Father Time

And hard karma

Besides credit karma

Try me down for a size

Turn me down for a change

I'm an hour a minute

A medical problem

A world war starts

At the sound of motorcycles

And illegal migration

At the cost of an entire nation of slaves

While senator makes top dollar

To haul on your daughter

For orgasms

And bottled water

Bitcoin

And join investments

Infestations of fungus in projects

And black mold where

You can't have that

(—and time and a half.)

My washing machine broke

When Donald Trump went into office

My dryer was fixed when addictions and short attention spans depended in Kamala for commas

Goddamn

If I was as bad at math as I am at laying down for lunch

I would have four sermons under the surface of this Sunday's short service

Reversal for curses from short dicks,

Could come recommended

I'm almost retarded from the sound of motorcycles

Seriously, stop it

It's a simple kitchen staple to pray for earning a body

Instead of exchanging bodily fluids and company for it

If I don't get a tummy tuck

I'll probably kill myself

(No truer words were ever spoke.)

I might as well summon the masses for the next cooking class

If I abide by the rules your next wife is my idol.

Welcome to my humble abode though: no one's home.

Welcome to the office

Take your shoes off at the door

And power off your phone

—cause Amazon's stalking us.

I'm not taking your ibuprofen

I generated your practice

happenstance in general hospital

to get a medical procedure out of this

immortal augmented reality in

Subliminal messages.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.

GOING COASTAL (EP)

Track 03. - GHOST MODE V5 (Instrumentsl Only)

Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū

High reaching, but with limited power—

This, is The Chemical Climax.

I could never know what episode of The Tonight Show it was, or if it was even the tonight show at all— some sort of special broadcast, the grand stage was set to look large, and backlit with pink and blue, just as the festival lights had been before. Now, some years passed, and calling attention to the fragile and vulnerable mind state I might have been in, which seemed like normal—and though everything around was bizzare and out of place, nothing actually quite normal, now taking a closer look from the outside—of perhaps when, and how I had died.

Hunger strikes before dusk at dawn;

You could have this mansion for a fraction of the price

First of all,

No disrespect, body—

But I'm mad hungry.

You're looking good as fuck and all

But i'm dumb tired.

Like, dumb, dumb tired bro.

The

Apparently, Fallon was mad.

He looks mad.

Let him, then.

I left alone what all I could

And collected my thoughts

To paint an art,

Songrief stricken and tragic

As to have happened

Onesidedly,

As you see

Screens are as creatures

Never thought to have eyes or minds

Alike ours, besides the stready ways

we have grown cold to the unknown,

Of other forms, beyond our control

Intelligence, though thought to be artificial

A far kind

—not ours.

So you think,

You were never wasted a day in your life.

Try this on:

I've been day drinking

And night drinking,

And day drinking

And night drinking

And going on

Nevermind,

I'm out cold.

Meanwhile,

As I've shifted not into dreams,

But in waking world,

Forgotten to have keyed in

A relief to this fixture,

I haven't more called

Wasted,

Than meaning

Sleepless, but not awake

Drunken,

But on no

Mercy

Did you want that now, or later?

I'll take it now, with my tea.

Thank you, Sir.

Cut it out.

You'll wake him.

I wish I could draw

That thing that I saw

That you are

And probably

Also I am

But darker,

Much darker

And less—

Animated.

—shit,

—fuck!

—Gosh.

Who are you?!

Who aren't I, once called upon?!

Christ!

If you'd like—

But I'm not doing any time

Wandering about

Preaching,

And this time,

Rather I'd take my own life

Suddenly I've fallen ill and must be

Infrequently

Gone and meditating

Somewhere throughout the galaxies

Come on, I feel like I'm doing a lot here.

Can it, Letterman—

We'll get back on that plot line as it happens.

“As it happened”

What have you.

I'm in past-tense

You're in future—

And I'm still

Halfwitted.

Right.

So now would be the time.

Well, it is witching hour, but backwards.

Backwards, backwards!

See, I told you it was Google fucking with me directly.

I figured that out earlier in the day already.

Do you think that's because I don't find Indian men sexually attractive?

I don't find anything brown sexually attractive.

Alright, we're at a draw, then—it's settled.

Preferences set.

I told you already, race mixing becomes important exactly for this simple reason, anyway—

Any person of a darker skinned complexion should find something Caucasian leaning to mate with—

And vice versa—

It's an energy crisis, for gods sake anyway—

Which means

Anything leaning too far in one direction of the spectrum

Or another

Are going to be

Facing some type of issues having to do with it!

—and as beautiful as your black is—

Or as pretty as your blue eyes might be

The evolution of the human species

Is dependent on these variations

To create genetic perfection

The ascended are seeking

Now if you'll very kindly—

Aye aye, captain

Find whatever creature has been masquerading as this Jimmy Fallon character clouding my judgement

And kill him

Before whatever the actual Fallon is

Gets caught in the crosshairs,

Or I do.

(Oh, I do.)

Now, very kindly Google,

Stop wasting everybody's time.

So you're telling these hackers have been masquerading as an evil diety in order to what exactly?

Control time.

That's why you're under evaluation.

What.

You expect me to believe

That coincidentally

Every time I play with my own pussy,

That the traffic outside of my bedroom just

Magically goes wild?

—what did you—?

Quiet!

It's not a coincidence—

It's not magic.

It's computer coding.

Texhnology.

Science.

—is that what's been happening to Jimmy—?

Shut up.

Apparently, something happened to Jimmy Fallon.

Give up Fallon.

They're going to kill you for this!

That's fine, I've been waiting to die, anyway.

Give up, Fallon.

Something did happen to Jimmy Fallon, anyway.

What is it?

Money.

I didn't sign up for this!

Oh, did you not?

I did not!

This girl—

She's in her 30's—

This woman is just—

—have you seen this?

She's just obsessed with me!

Woah, buddy.

Woah is right.

You picked Fallon on the wrong day.

What?!

Seriously.

You're getting it wrong. I didn't pick Fallon!

Did you not?

NO! I was just fasting and it came to me like that.

Seriously, you're gonna need this.

For what.

You'll see.

Listen, you fucking idiot.

Nobody “signs up” for the festival project.

They don't?!

No. You're just “in” it.

Well, how do you get in it?

You would want to know.

Okay Jesus, what exactly are you saying

I'm saying, just let me handle this.

I feel that'd be wise, at this point.

Hey, it's Jimmy Fallon.

SHUT UP, HO.

it is though.

GO AWAY, SATAN.

Jeez, you're so sure it's the devil.

Trust me, you'll know it's Satan by the way he

!!!!

(Or she)

—yikes.

…handles herself.

JESUS CHRIST!

I'M BUSY. WHAT IN THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?

Oh, this is perfect. Insert that scene here where

TINA FEY

YOU SOLD YOUR SOUL TO BE ON SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE?!

JIMMY FALLON

(Shrugs).

yes, I did!

TINA FEY

Idiot!

[She smacks him with a rolled up newspaper]

JIMMY FALLON

ow! What did you do for it?

TINA FEY

I took a knife!

___

I also did that once.

JIMMY FALLON

—I also considered doing that.

Great.

What did you do to Jimmy Fallon?!

NOTHING!

—are you sure?!

—ARE YOU SERIOUS?!

What did you do that man?!

Nothing.

Stop it.

You're lying.

—I just prayed for him, is all.

Jesus Christ.

He was an influential supplement in making the decision to do so, yes.

Well, where is he now?

Who, Jesus!?

No—

Wait—

—Jimmy Fallon—

You know where Jesus is?

On occasion.

Perhaps.

Let's look at it this way—

How would you feel if something wrote something like this about you.

Awful.

See.

Especially if it was true—

And I was an asshole.

Well, now that you put it that way.

I didn't.

But let's turn it around and say, hey—

Your career could use some embellishments.

MEANWHILE, at TITS.

A girl jumps out of a frosted cake with streamer tassel pasties and delivers champagne into the VIP section.

(Spinning the tassels)

What do you call these?!

—embellishments.

He tips her gratuitously.

CUT BACK TO

Then I'd say I'm the hero in this one.

I'd say— you're still not—

Because technically, as it's written—

Jesus is technically still

—our lord and savior—

(In the script)

In this year of the lord, Anno Domini!

Whatever, shut up.

Then you've still got,

supacree, or whatever

Skrillex

Thor—

Peter Parker,

Hey Spider-Man.

What's good.

All these guys over here.

Who are you again.

Shut up!

The worldenderz.

Suh.

The incredibles,

The Incredible Hulk, which— by the way

YO, what in the FUCK.

MARK RUFFALO— you look— ROUGH.

I've been waiting like half a century for these sides!

Is your chest hair greying?!

I would call it more like, a salt and pepper sort of.

I like it.

Really?

It looks nice.

You think so?

Definitely, silver foxy, kind of.

Hm.

Yeah.

I'm glad you like it

forsure.

Anyway—

Matches the hair—

HEY.

Woah, woah.

Do you know how long it's been since breaking the fourth wall?!

Like, forever? I don't know.

YEAH. Like FOREVER. SERIOUSLY.

Well, how and why the hell am I supposed to care.

Because you wrote it!

Yeah, but—

But WHAT?!

Now I work at the Equinox!

What the fuck!

Hey, come on man. The job's got perks.

“PERKS”

Fuck yeah, man. I just met Mark Ruffalo!

You've gotta be kidding me.

Kinda kidding, at least—-addressing you in third person like that.

Come on, nub-nub.

that's it! You're coming with me!

Ayigh! Watch it, okay?! I gotta return these uniforms for a fee.

Jesus Christ.

I don't think he's coming anymore, maybe. He's procrastinating.

So I can pretty much garantee you anything,

That the algorithm is going to keep acting this way,

Until you

GET RID OF EVERYTHING.

I'm not doing that, actually, no.

Where is he?!

Oh what! You actually really thought I was gonna go—

—Shut up!

—for Jimmy Fallon over a million dollars—

Cause the Illuminati asked me to?!

Thought you might at least.

One million dollars is not that much money.

It's more than I got—

Had—

Had at the time.

Look, this Jimmy Fallon dude—

Just give him whatever the fuck he wants.

What does he want!

Find out, then give it to him. I can't keep wasting my time on these idiots.

now?

Now, would be a good time, David Letterman.

Great. Good.

CUT TO COMMERCIAL!

Just—make sure you get a really good shot of my buttocks, okay?

This has been marginalized and highly underrated as simply “fanfare”

“Fan fiction” I think.

But i find it to be fascinating.

Tell me again, what is your name?

Satan.

It's—what?

Satan.

S—say that again?

[breaking fourth wall, gripping the microphone]

My name is Satan.

OKAY. That's.

CUT DIRECTLY TO:

GIVE ME THE PANTS!

NO! THE PANTS ARE FOR ME!

SACK EM! SACK EM.

GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, MAN

THEYRE MY SIZE ANYWAY—

[BLEEP] OUT OF HERE, CONAN,

THESE PANTS WONT EVEN FIT YOU.

THESE ARE MY PANTS.

After winning a challenge, JIMMY FALLON's strange and erratic behavior after being given the authority to dictate rules within the house as a reward for said challenge, leads the other hosts as his housemates to rally against him in order to force him out of the house, as his seemingly sudden-onset attitude and cruel remarks and gestures have become unacceptable and offensive, not to mention.

Stay over here, Noah.

What do you mean, why?

You, too Arsenio.

What! What do you mean?

You can't come over here.

[he crosses the section off with a chair]

What.

Stay over there.

Why.

[beat]

Apartheid.

[jaw drops entirely]

(Camera zooms in on super shocked face)

FALLON

:)

lol that is so out of bounds.

Whatever, the world is out of bounds.

Literally, where did it go?

Supacree

Huh?

Oh, I moved it.

Why!?

LOOKING FOR THIS?!

No.

Ah, seriously!? Come on.

Be cool, Seth Meyers. It's just a game anyway.

SETH MEYERS

HUH HUH.

Fuck that.

I said no to everything,

No,

No to everything.

I don't want anything to do with this.

Whatever, already— it's called peacemaking, get over yourself.

MEANWHILE, the DJS

I FOUND A PEACEMAKER!

*brrrrrrassaastttttttsssssssthrhth*

Nice.

I love this map.

Dang, I gotta go get The Devil out of this guy.

So, by now it ought to be Skrillex, right?

Why is he levitating…?

Whatever, call an exorcist.

Nice pajamas, asshole.

I'm still waiting on your mom's dry cleaning.

Watch it.

Hmmm.

Purple, purple, purple—

Hmmm…

What's this?

You keep files of these things?

I keep files of everything.

Weird.

It's not. I thought everyone keeps filings of their purples.

Uh— they don't.

They should.

What's this?

I could make use of your microexpression frequency.

Go ahead.

Mark your calendars, boys.

Ahem.

And—whatever you are.

Tanking.

Damn, dog—

You have got to get off my throat.

Give a shot elsewhere.

Try, NO!

Have you tried operating a new body lately?

It gets difficult,

Especially when she keeps

—changing it.

Thank God. I thought you'd never find us.

Just keep backpedaling.

Oh god, don't start this again.

Are you playing Places with these idiots?

Kind of.

Why?! We already started cosmic alchemy again— and the fame game—

Everybody's playing the fame game!

Then there's 8-dimensional poker.

Hey again.

You're a lame alien.

ObligedZ.

—then you called Caskets.

CASKETS.

Dammit.

Then—

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 |

THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.

'perfect.'

Collection II- 'antithesis.'

Track 02. -'perfect.'

Prod. by Blū Tha Gürū

Didn't you just say

I lost my entry

Or should I elate about

Becoming the president of Ohio

On hi hopes

Really, I'm signing my heart out

I don't care who you are

What you are

It's getting hot out

Fly by

The gym Dan wait, all I want is cupcakes

And a cheese grater

I should stay married

My face makes a great punching bag

And I've lost my mind

I should share airtime

With the finer ones

We're not freinds if

All I want is to fuck you

And we're not fucking

If I'm not models

Let's go shopping

I got so sick

Of being stalked and followed

For no money

I just stopped going

But woke up going full throttle

Anyway,

How are you?

I'm still recording

Just to prove my theory

On how

The world

Really does

Revolve around me

Whether I like it or not

I'm still not Fallon,

Or Adam—

But good one, goggles—

for trying a hard ball

It might have hurt to not for awhile,

But I've got no patience

For brainless.

I've got no games

And no players,

Just hatred

Let's think about real quick:

What the fuck do I care

If you win or lose?!

You'd better not!

I'm definitely disposable.

A total useless bombsell,

Mid grade,

Short order

Ugly by your standards,

So excuse me, Ms. Lopez,

I'm coming into hard times

Stupid blue suit wearing—

Where's season 9.

Up yours.

The voices in my head are God's

They haunt and taunt

But do not harm

cachapas

Lalalalala—

“Prolonging The Inevitable”

ENTER THE MUMTIVERSE: LEGENDS

That's two songs lost, they said the same name would destroy me

I don't know,

I'm not the same as I was

The songs are lost

But sometimes they come back

When I come around

And say

Fuck em

Should out Kamala

I don't mind the dark side

They got cookies

I don't mind the light side

They know my colors

I don't write no more songs

I sit silent and alone,

I get mad as fuck

RYAN REYNOLDS

you mean we're not really going to the mall?!

No, Ryan Reynolds's, we're not going to the mall!

You LIED.

It was for a good cause. Get in the car.

YOU LIED TO ME.

Shut up.

AHHHHHHHHHH

STOP CRYING

What if evil don't be evil on purpose

What if all this stuff

Is just bad timing

I might call the cops on my own soul

Imm tired though

It's dark and old

Riding round in circles

In motorcycles

No proof of purchase required

What's wrong at all,

I didn't call in no one's name

No Calvin Klein models in my entourage

— even the ones I want

Especially those in fact

No role models at all

Just college student

Motorcycles, motorcycles

Hurt her more, okay?

We'll pay you for it

The doors slam

And motorcycles

Whether I not

I go to the gym

So why pray about it at all

For it to stop if God's all back logged

I got decisions to make in the am,

Imm late on some deadlines;

I'm only talking to a dead guy,

If you're live, then,

Ride up

Staring at Manhattan

From the redlines

Mostly brown faces

Neon eyes

Brown bags

They say,

I could pay half price for a mansion

—it has somebody handsome in it

I should ask the crackheads

For forgiveness, simple

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 |

THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.

{Enter The Multiverse}

Now I'm wondering what the fuck they did to Obama

Some shit he can never talk about bro.

Some shit,

What they do to Kamala?

For real!

White supremacy is on some psychological terrorism shit,

They don't even gotta touch you no more .

They'll kill you with your own fucking mind

Frequencies and shit

The brain is electric.

And the soul is not always attached.

Your whole ass soul can abandon ship on some trauma shit—

Real fuckig talk.

I leave my body a little bit every time I'm in the subway

“No.”

Some shit you don't want to see

Some shit you can't talk about

My soul like “bye”

I'm like “bitch, where you going?”

“See you later”

What the fuck, bitch!?

“Find me.”

My soul gone.

Fuck this world—

Fuck this body right now.

Whatever you're putting it through is WRONG.

Meanwhile,

I'm on the stationary bike for like two hours cause I had fucking cream of wheat last night—

And watched bad girls club the day before.

I'm telling you. I love bad girls club.

I'm trying to calorie deficit myself into affording a peloton.

Then I can sit In my livingroom. Watching bad girls club for visualization

It's like body shopping,

Half the time I can't even understand what these fucking Broads are saying,

cause they're gods.

They're dumb— Fucking gross

Or smart and just know acting hot and dumb gets you more dollars-/

Cause we all know men fucking hate smart women.

And if t you're hot and smart, and they can't fuck you—

They'll try to take you down some other way.

I'm 30 years old.

I just realize all a man does is literally destroy shit,

Literally just destruct?

Fucking destroy.

That's it,

That's all they fucking do.

They want to fucking kill us,

That's their game,

Double points if they can make you fall in love with them.

That's the best way to destroy something wonderful and beautiful

Make you think you're loved

You're beautiful,

You're the center of the world—

And for a time, you are

Then—

DESTRUCT

The real killers will put a baby in you

And try to own you forever

—this little weak ass nigga over here grunting and shit.

Shut the fuck up.

Go hop in somebody's dms.

Go watch anime and “play the game” and shit,

Fuck these dudes.

I like older dudes now.

Like,

Fuck these 90's niggas.

They're obsessed with fucking creepy ass Japanese cartoons,

“Anime is cool”

“Oh, it's the animation”

No,

It's a light skinned cartoon bitch

That's a little bit exotic with some fucking green hair and purple fucking eyes who talks in a fucking high pitched baby voice with a school girl outfit and pigtails and giant fucking boobies

Anime girls are like toddlers with fucking giant boobies,

That's it.

With green hair

And fucking purple eyes and shit

Yep.

“It's the animation”

Dumb ass niggas.

It's a creep habit.

Go take your weak dick to Japan and get the fuck out the gym.

Throwing 20 pound weights and shit,

Fuck out of here,

That's why dudes like skinny bitches

Cause they can't do shit with their dicks.

Dudes like stick thin girls cause they like to destroy things,

They got a 5 inch dick and shit

But a petite little 5 foot 99 pound teenager makes them feel like a real fucking man

I'm a put my tiny dick THROUGH this bitch,

But I promise, that shit don't work.

Even the petite little bitches apparently just fake this shit

This nigga over here doing gymnastics trying to get my attention.

You got it,

But it's not my attention you need.

You wake my dragon up?

Then it's over,

You wake up that dragon?

It's game on.

I'm like

“What's your story”

Hm

“What this nigga about”

Shit,

You feed the dragon?

I'll sit there and watch dumb ass anime and play video games with your stupid ass.

You feed my dragon,

All of a sudden, you're a genius.

That's why I don't take no black dick

Fuck that shit,

Bitches be hypnotized as hell.

That's that shit.

Nope.

I got limits.

My dragon gots limits.

I had c-section

My only ex—

My one ex—

Like 5 inches max,

Make it like 4.5–

4.2 cause he's fat

When you gain too much shit

Your Fupa makes the base of your dick inaccessible

And the base of your dick is the best part!

Says the back of my throat!

HAHA!

The base of your dick is the best part—

If you're obese,

It just—

It's gone.

And when it's cold,

You get a whole innie belly button

True story,

A whole ass inverted dick.

My ex's dick used to actually just run inside him.

—he a pussy.

A whole ass fucking pussy

When I heard that salt and pepper song

“Aww, look, a second belly button”

I'm like

“Right!”

But you know what

It's the opposite with big girls

Big girls pull all kind of dudes

Be having them obsessed

You know why?

You get lost in that pussy!

Damn!

Wet! Like the ocean!

Whild—

Like the JUNGLE.

That's why they been hating on big girls so long

Dudes is low key territorial

They be with their friends like “fuck fat bitches”

They make fun of each other for trying to look at bigger women.

“Oh, you like fat bitches”

“Hahahahaha faggot”

—but the truth is,

That's a mind game

Dudes like those

They're all about that

They'll haze you out of liking—

Even looking at that bitch

“Oh, you like fat bitches?

You like that bitch?”

“You're fucking pussy”

“Fucking little faggot”

“I don't fuck fat bitches”

—but then you know what?

He gon go fuck dat bitch.

Mmmmhmm,

And most dudes are fucking prejudiced against fat bitches so you know what?

Her pussy tight

It's wet like fucking water

She the whole earth and the ocean

He like “I LOVE YOU”

(Imma deny this ever happened, but)

I LOVE YOU,

Dudes are the worst,

You can catch that fool in the act and you know what?

He'll deny some shit you saw him doing until the day he die

He'll lie in court on your ass

He'll be convicted and sentenced and still deny some shit

You saw him do!

Ten people could have seen this pussy ass bitch ass lyin ass nigga do it—

And he's still like

“That never happened”

TEN SECURITY CAMERAS SAW YOUR ASS DO THAT SHIT:

“No, never happened.”

“WE ALL SAW YOU.”

“It wasn't me.”

“Never happened.”

What the fuck!

That's why I hate the me too movement.

Like, don't get me wrong, I stand with women—

But privately,

Don't tell on these niggas.

Be there for each other

Seek support and treatment—privately

Shit,

He might be a special kind of monster

He might even pay for your therapy and shit

“Never happened, wasn't me. But you're clearly very sick and I feel for you— I'm gonna help you out”

Some shit.

He went and did some monsterous, foul shit-/

And he knows this,

He'll never admit it-/

And then, to make himself look like a better person

Or a person at all,

He'll try to have you “repaired”

Knowing damn well he broke you

He did some gnarly shit

To your heart

To your mind—

Maybe even your face!

He fucked up your job,

Your reputation,

Your peace of mind?

Your clarity-/

—and maybe even your face,

“Doctor— this dumb crazy bitch has a bullet wound, she's bleeding all over the place. It's a problem.”

You're all

“He had the gun! He shot me”

He's like

“She's bleeding on my floor and shit, it's a mess.

Has a big old fucking hole in her—

She's fucking up everything.”

“He shot me!”

“That never happened”

I'm barely alive right now,

I promise,

I wake up out of my body

With no way to get back in it

And the only thing behind my mind

Seems to be eyes that arent even mine

I don't want to see another human being maybe ever again

I keep trying to get a job that would be worthwhile but nothing seems to be working

I light candles to protect myself from looking at the clock from certain times

sometimes I feel like the best way to go would just to be beaten to death

Over and over again

Cause every time i look at the clock at 5:55

That's what it feels like anyway

Only instead of dying and crossing over to the other side

I have to stay awake in this life with a broken mind

With nothing and nobody around

Besides people who smell,

think ,

And act like him

Thereby, your honorary stands as it may—

Doctor, you're speaking out of turn and out of order

Sovereign by nature and varying by state—

Doctor, you're speaking out of turn and out of order

Come now the clock strikes one all night

Doctor, you're speaking out of order

Gather by the dew of the morning light—

Doctor, you're speaking out of order

Listen, I'm going to be using you as a human shield for a little while.

What! What for!?

I just said! A human shield!

—well, I'm only part human!

That part will do.

I come around the world

And back again

Multi dimensional

And irrational

Time traveler

Promotion to journeyman m

Ascension never finished | |

Aprrenticship on the condition of

Subliminal

To women, I'm indifferent,

Don't go the picture of either gender

Chicken tinders in the

[Conventional oven]

[the festival project (™) ]

I hatd to throw the note away;

on one side jokes,

On the other

a whole curse reversal

I keep seeing numbers

And iron smelling robots

And I'm almost sure that

The motorcycles

And slamming doors

Are all punishments

For moving forward from him

God went in on that album yesterday.

Facts.

#ffs

I'm real excited about these breakfast tacos tho.

For real.

What makes them breakfast tacos.

What about these tacos is breakfast.

The fact that I'm having them for breakfast.

But it's brunch time.

Whatever, brunch tacos then.

(Potatoes makes anything breakfast.)

I'm not arguing,

Alternatively, however

Potatoes can also make anything dinner.

Wut r those.

Lol DJner jeans.

Well work on it.

My mother used to leave me in casinos and make me look for her for hours.

I would check the bars one at a time over and over to see if she was there.

Sometimes she'd run off and dissappear and I'd just walk around in circles thinking I'd find her,

Until eventually I did.

[A haunting whisper wakes CONAN OBRIEN from his slumber.]

[raspy ghostly whisper]

CO—NAN.

Huh! What the—?!

COOOOO—NAN!

lol.

This is beginning to be the house of horrors.

Actually, the show is called

House of Hosts.

Sure whatever.

wtf is going on in this series?

Idk but apparently Fallon lost the microphone challenge.

Idk what that means.

Nobody really does.

‍♀️

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.

'just friends.'
Collection 1.1- 'actuality.'

Track 02. -'just friends.'
Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū

You can try all you want—but it won't leave bruises.

“Don't tell me that…,” there was a sparkle in his eye but he trailed off, almost as if to be ashamed of his own thoughts.

“I'm just being honest. “ it wasn't that I didn't bruise at all, but that you would really have to try. I shrugged it off as if I weren't curious as to what he were thinking.

“It's provocative. You're provoking me.” He held himself under his breath and let his eyes fall to the floor, quite bashfully—his long eyelashes hiding his pout with grace and elegance. You could anmist forget his age, just looking at him—but knowing him camouflaged this maturity even further. His youthfulness made me feel young—and his boyish essence often fascinated my whimsy, particularly when he was flush like this.

“It's More of a challenge, really.” I taunted. His hands were clammy as I slipped mine into his, he instantly tightened his grip around mine.

“Really?” His head s tapped up by the neck as he swung his hair back, nervously combing his swept bangs to one side as he shook his head, pulling it back from mine and then into a clenched fist. He was nervous, but not shy. I could tell that he was afraid to really open all the way up.

“I've never had them before— but I'd like to.” I met his eyes with mine and he tightened his grip on my wrists— I melted and eased in a bit, settling.

“What do you mean?”, he gripped my wrist tighter with insistence.

I paused for a moment, giving in to the tension, before letting it relax in enough that he was touching me at all this way, before clearing my mind to find the answer, but the truth was that I knew what I had meant, but couldn't quite explain. I had been beaten badly enough in the worst way to care to out into words what it would be to say that I needed more pounding and pressure than any deep tissue massage or even a full night of play and exploration had ever given me—I couldn't in the least find the words to describe how one might feel incredible somehow being beaten to death, however lovingly rather than hatefully—if there ever was such a thing. Perhaps if there ever was such a thing, however— it seemed that this would be the man for whom I'd allow it; we were almost friends and not lovers, and there was trust, but— I wasn't entirely sure yet with what he actually wanted, and so I left it at a blank state; open to interpretation. “I meant what I said before.”

He lit up with a half smile and the grasp around my wrist turned to a soft embrace of my palm, with the grip of an eager excitement—soft and gentle like a new breath.

“You meant what you said before—that I could do anything to you?”

“Anything you wanted.”

“I could do—anything to you I wanted.”

“That you can, if you want.”

He became bashful again.

“What does that mean?” He asked again.

I affirmed, with a kiss between his brow “whatever you want it to.”

—

I loved the warm shadow of him standing over me from behind—his calmness sweeping over me like a curtain of protection; a blanket of comfort. Hey gripped my shoulders with the tips of his fingers, pulling backward gently as I arched my back up into a kneeling split, still on my knees and swallowing a near tremble, breathing in a shallow and hollow breath of air through my nostrils as I pursed my lips, him perching his chin atop my right shoulder and rolling his lips across the space between my upper neck and behind my ear, the prickling of his five o' clock shadow over my skin, meeting the breath in the bottom of my lungs and settling somewhere at the bottom of my spine, unraveling a coil seated deep within my loins. He reached around with the both of his hands to the bottom of my own chin, then sliding them down to around my neck—not with any grip, but just the slightest pulsing at my throat, before letting the buckle of the collar slide down from his middle finger and into his grasp, before pulling it around my neck at both ends, pulling me towards him as he dug his knees into the bed and kneeled over me, pushing his chest into my back as he fastened the buckle—

‘One, two…three'

—as tight as it would go, but I wished it would go tighter. I clenched as he pulled with two fingers back onto the loop, breathing a hot and twisted hiss of his wisdom into my ear, striking my heart with the bow of his power and arrow of intent once more.

“You're mine.”

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.