Back To The future

C. Yourself

Cutting into a kiwi

Barely conscious

Waiting on the devil

to stir up a fight

Once i take my first bite

Since the eve of hanukkah

Or the first night of

I've lost count, now

Isn't it awful

Ought to get right up

“Tell me,

What have you?”

Grain, for the brain and

Broth for the bitter

I feel in my throat, but

It's just getting deeper

Finally, i”m in the right place

The race for the right

(asleep at the left,

Again, with the devil

Again, with my head

Still, there's all the more weakness in the world

Than there's strength

Geometric Echoes

All that, and a can of beans?

Look, I had a lot going on in there.

Can you do four more days in?

Probably–I mean.

Great, I'll see you in there.

Yeah, I guess.

Enjoy your beans.

yeah.

You must shield your eyes from the Dead Mouse.

Look at this.

What in ThE FuCK

Bye-bye.

I'm telling you, this thing is NOT. OF. THIS. EARTH.

What would you call that?

..I wouldn't

hey , look. I need eight years.

EIGHT MORE YEARS?

Yeah.

Well–how old will you be by then.

Dead. Dead years old.

Ftw–

Over my dead body.

MEANWHILE

WAITER:

Would you like some…Pepper.

Mm…no.

What, no pepper .

No, no pepper.

I stopped eating bananas for a year because of Skrillex;

I can certainly stop eatting pepper.

PeEPpPEERrRRr

*

What?

Lets g0.

Ok, I can't hang out with you guys anymore; you're too rich.

There's no such thing

There's no such thing as “too rich”

Tha Davinci Code, Scene at one hour 41 minutes

Blue-eyed savior…

Old blockbuster

Controversy

Matrimony

Same as always

Blue-eyed savior

Old time movie

Another blockbuster,

Controversy

Conservative,

Corrupt,

Same as always

It;s the last thing that you'd want to know

But there you are, steady asking for it

There's no such thing as me anymore

(when there's no such thing as ‘Cree' anymore)

What did you do this for

The last thing you wanted to know

But you still keep asking,

asking

Damn, he's beautiful

How old is he

Whose he married to?
The standard round of questions

The standard mode of transportation

Transpose this, I hope

Or translate it

Wipe the slate clean?

I haven't even eaten enough for today

And it's already raining!

Why are you complaining?

Whyare you complaining?

What are you complaining for

Don't you are bring me a single tear

Are we all not eachother?

Aren't we all eachother?

Are we all eachother?

Drowned in the long monologiue along the opera

Now left all alone, a spiral staircase

Here I am, or here I come

To waking

Here I am, or here I was

To dreaming

[An Hour Long Special]

Isn't it funny

I havent thought of you, since I thought of you

Follow the flower

The ribbons of love

And the flora of what was forgotten

But not

‘I want one of those to play with'

A big boy,

With a big toy

or a

Big toy,

With a nice tool

Or a hot rod

Or a hot tub

You're late.

I'm always late.

WAKE UP.

I'm ALWAYS up.

Password.

Fuck. I Forgot the password.

Password: Flagship.

Fuck.

Yes.

I did it.

How

How did you

HOW DID YOU DO THIS.

Do, what? I just–

Good, I made it!

Oh Good, you made it.

Go ahead and swallow the bullet you wrote for your valentine

Burn the letter you wrote to your God,

Or just as likely mine

Why I feel sick–

I only had to die eleven times

Lets get back to the daily routine

I haven't been myself

I've been everyone else between Queens and Manhattan
This past week

Lets get back to the daily routine

Okay

Poutine and a little ketchup,

That's darkly dreaming

Skelotons in my getup

Lets get back to the daily routine again

Shall we

I've never even had champagne

What a shame

My life's all wrong

It's a fucked up world

and a fucked up song

Lets get back to the part

Where we all get along

(That never happened)

I just had this song in my head;

And he's got a scope on the gun

hidden camera, “you're alredy dead”

A way new take on a way old song

But i was just here

And you were just there

And I was just there
And you were just here

In my head

I'm already dead

I just had to check

End of us

Left to suffer

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

I found Waldo at the Waldorf Astoria,

Glory be,

I hollered

“Gloria” for Mr. Morrison to follow me

“Forward, forward,

Onward, onward!”

Into the night with the impolite gang stalkers

And night watch

On, but just as honestly implausible and awkward

As it is comical

What did you want again

I saw Santa Claus on the local

Holdup

It's too early for menopause

Ahem

I can't follow you to a place with no abortion laws,

You fucking moron—

Or Mormon,

Excuse the aftertaste of

‘Man, I gotta just start telling people I'm a writer.'

I just had to pet the kittens—which at first appeared to be just one tiny cat then revealed to be two, by the stranger, who had all but stopped me in the doorway to talk; it seemed of course a little procured—and I must have been followed quite thiuroughly from Whole Foods, to the Guitar Center, and doubling back to CVS—where the man stood at the entryway, a man who at first glance has looked largely like a security guiard, though my red-tinted glasses—which, while dulling the pain from the stress and tension of my current happenstance, also counteracted at least some of the sensory overload I experienced going out and into Manhattan, especially fasting, which I had blamed for the man's sudden appearance at first—Of course, then, however, I more logically surmised that I was probably followed, and that this man was more than likely another agent of some sort; I wondered to myself why exactly besides my way of dressing and courses of action I might have been so interesting; it seemed no law enforcement agency was looking to actually persecute for the tedious petty criminal acts I had been almost required to commit in order to stay alive—and—as it seemed as of late, I had only in my own mind been doomed to the confines of homelessness forever, no matter how bleak the circumstances—and the circumstances were bleak; nothing quite seemed worth it anymore, especially to try in a field in which I had been so numerously ridiculed and perhaps even mocked to the point of failure—where here at least, having not eaten in days, and having the unusual go-around as to what exactly I should spend my money on, or rather—how I should spend it, seeing as there was never enough to get everything I needed at once —and the emphasis was on that of need; I got almost nothing that I wanted, ever, and the totality of my inclement had been spent on clothes that weren't turned to rags, underwear, shoes that would shield my feet from the wet and cold, and of course musical equipment—which one might have equated to a want had it not seemed there was a bounty over my head for whatever reason to continue making music—and there was, some kind of unspoken contract, seemingly between me and God itself, that music was the only thing I had to do; and that even in my undertaking once again of fitness as to somehow accumulate the money I needed for my body contouring and the massive amount of musical equipment and technology I needed, there was nothing I could do but sit and crunch the numbers over and over as to how I could pull off what seemed like a multi-level process—the process od creation without limitations, and self care, where I met at the crossroads with any devil that may have mattered—and of course, where I met this man, cradling two small kittens which distracted me from the act at hand; I was drained, some kind of sick, and had been oversleeping, realizing that in the same way that I was using the fast as waste management, the coconut water that I was using to rehydrate after long hours in the sauna and intense workouts at the gym were wreaking havoc on my bladder, waking up constantly to use the restroom and extending my needs for sleep into the afternoon, at which point I would scramble anxiously in order to ready myself for the day, which always seemed to take more time than it should, considering I simply didn't want to deal with the process of going out into the world—the trek from the ghetto to the mid Manhattan drive had become monotonous and full of obstacles, most often in the form of disgusting individuals in some way or another, or what even seemed to be a cult of annoying and irritating people wearing dirty white Nikes as a show of how powerful a stronghold my exhusband still seemed to have over me— but it did seem to be some kind of excersise, not one which showcased his power, but the power of another entity, which seemed only to be posing as remnicense of him to redirect the intent of whatever cruel hex or curse which had been placed over me. By now, I knew my ex-husband had dug his own grave, that his karma was well on its way and that the powers-that-be would not let slip the hand of justice for what had been done to me, nonetheless in front of my children—no matter what I had done before, or thereafter, I had never deserved that.

“You're a creator, what do you do?”, said the man

“Music.” I said, without delay.

“I know. I can tell. You produce?” He asked.

“Yeah.” I replied shortly, not entirely distracted from my intention.

“Me too.” He said.

“Oh!” I swept; I was much more interested in petting the kitten than speaking about music at all, but at the very least I had it somewhere, probably written on my forehead, that I was a music producer.

“What do you use?” I asked, or something like that—but now I was fully distracted, as he had revealed a second cat—a black one—to which I was delighted; my life was a little more empty now than even I had expected—I had cut off any connection to the outside world whatsoever and had learned to live without love at all, and yet— the soft and silky baby fur of the kittens calmed me enough so that I wasn't so anxietal, which was probably what I needed anyway—even showing up at guitar center had given me the sweats I wasn't getting, having missed the gym entirely, and it had seemed as though I had always intended to rest on Saturdays, that my new rest days were Friday, as I almost never made it into the gym in Fridays for whatever reason—however, I had given myself a Pat on the back for a 7- plus day gym streak, and had been running myself ragged, and of course, unable to focus—anytime I heard a song at all, I thought about what I needed to create what was considered “placement-worthy music”, or at least, even music that I could palate.

“I'm in FL studio— what about you?”

“Ableton.” I said, almost starting another sentence before he cut me off—alerting me to the reality that he could indeed be another agent.

“I know.” He said,

“How do you know?” I asked, not so curiously as to irritated that he seemed a little too conspicuous, not ever to believe in such a thing as coincidence anyway.

“You've got the glasses.”

“Oh, the glasses. Yeah.”

“You know, he said, I used to have a pair just like that. Where did you get them?”

“Amazon, I said, of all the places. Of course.”

The next few sentences were a wash, but of course, the entire subject matter swirled around the same mottled object— I couldn't seem to wrap my mind around what the point was, but the intent was made clear instantaneously.

“—Skrillex?”

“Uh—who's that?” I was suprised myself at the coolness of my own response— it seemed authentic, even to me.

“Skrillex.”

I shook my head in ‘confusion'

“—Skrillex?”

“I don't know who that is. I thought I knew everybody.”

“I guess I'm an old head,”

“Old head,” I chimed “Benga. Rusko…” I was of course being almost openly facetious, almost irritated that anyone dare cohearse an entire conversation if only to bring up Skrillex, the forbidden fruit, the Illuminati poster child with whom I had forcibly cut ties for my own sake.

“Old school manga, anime—“

Now I was entirely disconnected— I assumed this person had listened to my podcast, or at the very least been briefed—and in that instance I was relieved by another passerby, a kind woman, also profoundly distracted by the fact that the man had not one kitten, but two.

I quickly made my escape, and though the man seemed to follow, as the woman watched, I made it clear to the woman that she had done me a kindness, and she stood in the way of his following me down the aisle. I nodded her a great thanks, and swiftly disappeared.

There is no escape from Skrillex.

“What the fuck do you want, Sonny?”

While my heart is thumping

And my blood is pumping

I should let you know, honey

What's going on

All on autopilot, walking

I haven't eaten; I shouldn't even be here

In your honor, an apartment—

Your birth year in the address

Remarkable,

A whole hall of parked cars,

Cover up the scars with hallmark cards

And framed arrangements of newspapers

And Trader Joe's paper bags

But here you haven't

Another hot head,

Studies psychology, but still doesn't get it

And suffers of course or disassociation

Cough, without a losenge

Come unhinged at heaven's doorstep

Then, walk back to hell

With the others—

The blackest of the nnlack in black world

Where you are

Where you belong

I shouldn't even be here

I haven't even eaten

I didn't plan to fast, however

I reached the last straw

It's all hostile

A power struggle

And for once my stomach isn't hungry

CUse I'm just

That upset

Cut off the bad parts

Cut out the color

Just to move forward

Four more, then move past that

Now you're in our house,

But the ball's in your court

The extra small leggings from my Gymshark haul became less of a a stretch, and I felt myselfnsteunking considerably—not that it mattered. Soon without protein, I would once again grow weak— and as always, constantly being surrounded by draining people became more of an irritant than a stressor—but the stressor was this; the coordinator, as wel just as much with any

one

Whatever, I'm bored.

Why can't I have deadmau5

Cause that's a no.

Come on.

No.

Please

NO.

I get sick just on remnicense

Of his essesnce

Shit, I should get back to that

Back to

MR, EVANS.

Shit, hide dude.

Hide WHERE.

I dunno!

There's nowhere to hide

Then RUN!

I CAN HEAR YOU.

Oh shit dude,

Fuck,

Just open a portal.

NOWAY, MAN.

GET IN HERE

FUCK THAT.

SHHH.

There's nothing straight up worse

Than sensory overload at the Equinox

Turn off your colors, broski

Woah slow down,

I want you love me;

But you won't

That cool

I'm not lonely,

One thumb

Hold on to dear life with the other

Here comes the other one

Getting to close for comfort

It's alright

I got this

There's no place in the world for me;

Guess it's back to the dirt for me!

There ain't no place on earth

I'd rather be

Than not on earth

Where everything

Is nothing

Elsewhere

Everything is everything

Every single

Particle of

Dust

Let's just demolish—

—I need some fingernail polish on

— such a thoughtless—

Never has a day gone by I ain't thought about

—what abott it the others—

—is that all of us?

—don't let me stop ya—

Was I interrupting something

I'm fucking done with this

HOT SAUCE!!!!!!

What.

Oh yeah, this kid again.

Oh wonder.

OH WONDER

!&,$&

He cracks me up. Check this out.

What:

Kid, come here.

Come over here.

Is he ok?

I don't know: look at this.

Cellphone on my hip bone

(That hurts, tho)

Woah,

Am I skinny enough yet, Sonny

Fuck it, somebody will love me

As long as I'm bony

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

"The Practical Phantom"

Here's another agressor working on my nerves as soon as I sit down to work

hope you like the sound of her laugher

here's to living in a nightmare

and every other reason it fuckin sucks being black

The control system in place

Here's what happens every time I open Ableton.

gangstalkers be gang stalking.

Trust The Process.
(don't let go)

Bro there has better be a better drop after a monologue like that or I'm gonna be mad at myself for staring into space.

(There wasn't.)

STAY IN YOUR LANE, STARR

THIS AINT A GAME, STARR

YOU ARE A LAME, STARR—

I AM A GANG-STAR

FAME-STAR

VAMPIRE FANG-STAR

“Dang Starr,

Is that your old lady?!

YOU MUST'VE REALLY FUCKED UP, DAWG

YOU GOT ME FUCKED UP, STARR

WHAT'S UP STARR?!

KILL YOU ON WORLDSTAR

GOLDSTAR

DON'T START

LIKE THE ONLY CAR YOU OWN STARR

WOAH, gotta go hit the road, Starr

Choke on a pole, Starr

So far

Karma hit you sitting all alone Starr

I'm not sorry!

Got a scar on my eye

And a scar on my heart!

Gasoline and a spark

Your whole hearse

Just to watch you burn.

Reverse the curse

You worthless—

Whoever her is

Deserves ya,

The only mother to you son

Is the ONE

WHO I AM

DIE NOW

I know it's been awhile but I still have flashbacks

The train was

Dragging my body

Ten whole blocks

Between two stops

Before anyone noticed I jumped

Not even the driver

It was a long ride up

It was a long ride back

It was a long way there

I took the wrong way out

I took the long way home

I took the long way gone

I took took the long way around

I took the local

I took the local

I took the local

I took the local

“Be careful of mirrors”

Haven't looked in the mirror since

Mirrored rocks and mirrored doors open.

I was hoping…

A split decusion, impulsive

I jumped before I even thought of it

Subtropics lol subtropics

Ganja White Night

Liquid Stranger

Excision

Space Laces

Space Jesus

Four Tet

Clap tone

Urban flora

Marian Hill

Blunts N Blondes

Got most of these, still need a couple more albums to start my apprenticeship in dubstep.

Lol

“Bass music”

The bellow of a faraway beast

A far cry from where I belong

I still haven't opened my eyes in a while

A flash brings me back to the time

As where I am

Gone in the run of a mile

(or Five of them)

Don't call me home

I don't wonder no more

I'm going to work

There's no knock at the door from here

Don't try to pull it apart–

it's all nonsense

Went for a walk,

I just haven't been back since

It's been years

It's been years

It's been years;

I'm still careful of years

“that's all you get”

The one love that went awry

And awkward, I walk as if

I were a toddler

Persistence, perseverance

Patience, the doctor said

Patience, I've more than a doctor

–I thought that was clever

It's been forever

It's been forever

It's been a life lived, dear

Don't you know you've so many more of them

In morse code I said

“Want to go home,

I've been under the weather”

I thought that was clever,

Hence the umbrella

I put a spell on him–

But that's irrelevant

Only time could tell

But I don't tell him anything

He put a spell on me,

I was in Hell I guess

I learned to spell again,

Put the whole world in my head

So that it would spin–

But that's irrelevant

I tend to spend all my time

Sending messages into the infinite

With no recollection of

Anything other than

What God wanted

I've got no other friends

But i've more patients than doctors

(I thought that was clever)

Persistence, perseverance

Plenty of dead friends,

and saints

Full of patience and practice,

The doctor said

“I've never done anything like this”

Which reminds me,

I should be prying my mind open

Trying to find someone that might

Finance my tripumphs

Instead of just crying and trying to find the right time

To remind myself:

I'm just as mad at my mind

For unwinding

And time,

For fear of dying–

As it seems like those around me are

Fearful

Of leaving here,

So unaware that this

Model is just one of

Hundreds of thousands

Just like it

A passage of time

So insignificant,

Just the beginning of

Something so infinite

It's just forgettable

Forgiveness

Isn't

Figurative

Unless it's

A punishment for

Punching the clock

Or

Punching your wife

Or

Giving up easily–

Rather,
It's indifferent,

I figured

The world spins

Because

Its just

In my head

SEP FROM UNISON

Hi.

…

Hello.

SEP FROM UNISON

Give me a dollar.

…

Ok.

SEP FROM UNISON

Nice.

SEP FROM UNISON

See ya later.

*disappears, but definitely not for forever*

…

…

…

Oh good, you're here.

Where is this.

Your future.

Oh?

Here, put this on.

What is this.

Put it on.

–okay?

Nice

*disappears, but probably forever*

Huh.

L E G E N D S

“The Rabbit Hole”

GARY.

…yes?

Did you take out the trash?

Not yet.

Well– DO THAT.

…okay.

GARY is a Janitor; he sometimes stares into space for long periods of time, daydreaming that he is a superstar DJ named KASKADE.

GARY.

He is not. He is a janitor.

–sorry.

It's a longshot

How I loved that backlot

Longer than time

And I don't know why, but

I've got my eyes closed, i'm

Turning back time

I'm back at Bob Hope

Direct from LaGuardia

I would take JFK to LAX

But

I've been next up

Now i'm out front

iPhone Cameras and

Nikons

I'm a Icon

“Madonna's Falafels”

JENNIFER ANNISTON

Have another fucking fallafel, I swear.

OH MY GOD.

JENNIFER ANNISTON

Go right ahead.

IS THAT A GUN

JENNIFER ANNISTON

What does it look like?

It looks like gun! *takes another bite* Unh…

[JENNIFER ANNISTON fires a shot into the roof!]

COME ON, THIS IS A RENTAL.

[MADONNA comes down the stairs in a bathrobe–a cucumber pops off of one of her eyes.]

MADONNA

WHAT IS GOING ON.

JENNIFER ANNISTON

THUNDER THIGHS IS EATING A FALAFEL.

MADONNA

*eggagerated gasp* IS THAT MY FALLAFEL.

I'M SO HUNGRY. *takes another bite*

JENNIFER ANNISTON

OH!

MADONNA

GIMMIE THAT GUN

You're a sick Individual;
And I don't care.

You make my life difficult,

And I don't care.

I'll never be good enough;

And I don't care

Now it's so obvious;

And I don't care

It's so wrong

All that I want from you;

You're all I want–

And all I've ever gotten

It's funny, huh,

How it all works out

Around the world and back

And I'm still the same as I ever was

You're all I want,

Because y're everything I'm not

False flag

I might throw in the towl

I don't mean to brag but

My mind is fowl

I live in the gutter

With less responsibility,
I might be a part animal

But–

What you see is what you get

(If you get me drunk, i'll suck your dic

Till the sun comes up,

And it sets again)

Or was it acid

My secret combination

A flower in a garden

Beg your pardon

I got a hard on

Honest

Look, regardless of what you actually want, I'm going to be the most toxic thing that ever happened to you.

Promise.

Thats about the only promise i can make.

Moe toxic than AIDS.

You have AIDS.

Anything can be arranged.

You would do that just to spite me?

I would do anything just to spite you, Dillon Francis.

This is the worst.

This is the worst, ever.

EAT THE BRATWURST.

NAAEEERR.

EAAT THE SAUSAGE.

NOOO–AAAHHH.

JUST–EAT IT.

AHHHHHHHH.

This story takes forever to tell.

Well, it's going to have to be less than forever.

For what.

WE DON'T HAVE TIME.

This version of me likes everything spicy.

That's it? That's the only difference?

–and does a lot of cocaine.

Oh. That's

Nice.

*snifs*

nice .

Hey.

Hey.

Hold this.

*leaves*

…haha.

What, dude.

I'm gonna kill you in your sleep.

You wanna know what's fucked up?

No.

I have dirty little secrets no one should know about–

–Christ–

–And people know about them.

I'm just gonna stay over here in the safezone.

What “safezone”? This dude is about to blow you off the map.

I'm making peace with this.

Here, breakfast.

What's in this.

Eggs.

What's going on.

Nothing, Skrillex. Go back to bed.

-_-

Aw. That kid is cute.

I know huh.

TYLER.

Lol. who the fuck is tyler.

I don't know.

TYLER, GET IN HERE.

TYLER is a DILLON FRANCIS.

[TYLER]

Woah.

Whaaat.

Ah. What's in a name, anyway?

That's it? That's the only difference.

Yup.

His name's “Tyler”

He's fucking perfect.

Yeah, except.

TYLER!

OH MY GOD. WHAT.

DId you ever figure out what happened to the-

No, not yet.

DEADMAU5

I don't respect you.

Aww. did you hear that?

I heart that.

deadmau5 doesn't respect me.

that's sad.

that is sad. I'm so sad.

I'd be sad.

now i'm sadmau5.

lol

So. Wait.

Mmhmm.

I'm–deadmau5.

Yes.

So that means.

WHAT IS THIS CRISIS.

I'm sorry, I'm trying. I really am.

DADMAU5.

What did you do.

I dug up a lot of pasts.

PASTS.

And brought them to the present.

Oh God. Oh Lord. Oh Jesus.

I don't understand.

Please, please stop this.

I can't. It's happened.

PART I: Skrillex left me stranded in New York.

SKRILLEX

I'M A GOD.

PART II: Revenge.

ME

Revenge!? What revenge!

I don't want revenge on Skrillex–It's SKRILLEX.

SKRILLEX

DIE MOTHERFUCKER.

*dies*

This dude has been winning for like 7 seasons straight.

Make that 8.

8 Seasons Straight.

Wait. What was that dream I had last night

I hope she remembers.

It was something important.

Don't tell mom about this.

Mom about what.

[Explosion]

OH MY GOD.

Listen, i'm gonna try to hold this motherfucker down, for as long as I can–

Do that.

But eventually–it's going to get up and eat something–or everything–including me–because, well–

[WORST DRAGON EVER]

It's a dragon, and that's what it does.

COELACANTH GROWLS

Look. I can't keep feeding this thing bananas. I'm going broke.

I'm pretty sure if you don't feed this thing bananas, whatever's going to happen is worse.

What's worse than being broke in New York City.

My God, you're right. Well.

COELACANTH GROWLS AGAIN.

That's it, buddy! NO more bananas

COELACANTH

???

NO — MORE —- BANANAS. [the box is empty]

See?

What did you do.

Nothin.

WHAT DID YOU DO.

Don't touch me.

Why are you squinting like that.

Uh. Cause I have eyes.

You have a secret.

Everyone has secrets.

YOU'RE KEEPING A SECRET FROM ME.

Alright, buddy.

Alright, that's a synchronicity: i gotta go.

Where are you going?

To get some dick.

EW.

Arguably.

That's gross.

I'm–pretty gross.

Ugh!

See ya. Or not. Whatever.

Sorry to say “I'm sorry”

So, so Sonny doesn't love me, no more

Okay

I'll jus curl up under my

Security blanket

It's a curse, sure it is

I write myself blank checks

Jim Carrey me home

(whatever that means)

Cause

I've been homeless so long

And nobody wants me

It's just a bee sting,

But don't eat honey

No worries

I'm sorry to say “i'm sorry”

So he don't love me, huh

That's awful

So what was it all for

Homework

Somehow, I just go back and forth

That's the way to move forward

Sure, it is–it's a curse

*cough* a lovely photographer,

Sorry I loved him before

But it's awful now

Take me home

(Whatever that was)

No worries

I write myself blank checks

Jim Carrey me home

(whatever that means)

Cause

I've been homeless so long

And nobody wants me

It's just a bee sting,

But don't eat honey

No worries

I've been under the radar famous

Haven't been the same sense

Same senses: six of them

Don't even know what today is

__

It's just a sex thing;

I don't want the rest of you

That she can have

Your other less-than-half

I still have a percentage

(Nonsense)

I still want to grab at your–

(Aha)

First things first,

And last things last

All of these past lives

I get the last laugh

If that's your first wife

Good luck, getting it right

God knows I tried

God knows when I'm crying,

And still doesn't like it

So much for colorblind

Automatic shades, and motorized blind

What a lovely time to find

A tie that binds

Sugar and spice

That's mild,

Compared to your wild eyes

And the trials I've

Tested thorough lik vials

(or, test tubes, right)

That's the best cube, right

The latest edition

I've had my eye on

It's just a distraction

I haven't the slightest idea

What an Ion is,

Beyond science and mathematics,

This magic campaign

A pain in my ass, Dillon Francis

That's what that is

I left that Amethyst

At your Grandma's.

What.

“To Gradmother's House We Go”

I don't think this is a good plan–

This is the plan.

–at all.

I don't wanna talk to Dillon's Grandma.

Dillon Francis.

Gross.

Listen, that's the only way.

But what if she's racist.

She's a super old white lady. Of course she's racist.

MEANWHILE, IN CROATIA

[Speaking in croatian]

Damn. This is fucked up.

I think we went back too far.

WAIT JUST A COTTON - PICKIN MINUTE.

WHO'S COTTON- PICKING?

Oh God, stop this.

My eye is in the Sky–

(My eye is in the sky)

I'm always by your side

My eye is in the sky

YOu keep asking me what I want,

Like I know the answer!

Like, I know the answer–

But like, you're not gonna like it,

I mean you might,

And I could try to divide by 5

To get the answer right,

But not tonight

I'm too busy dying

I guess i”m a dick rider.

Right,

I'm just–

A big writer,

Provided I'm onto my idol

Or icon

Drawing on dollars,

A white collar criminal

It's simple

This isn't my passion–

But it's my talent;

Whatever,

I'll have to work at it

Addition, subtraction

(Erect, or dysfunctional)

Truly poetic, but

lets keep it classy

I'm passing it on my my agent,

He'll have a laugh at it.

So it's been another ten years;

Here we are,

In the place that i built

If you're so fond of me ,

How about you follow me

Into the next life,

Onward, and into the darkness

Oh! You can see in the dark now?

You succubus!

Isolate all of us,

Bring you up high till you fall down

The irony is,

I'm not ungrateful,

I just feel as if

I've slightly earned it

(Just a little bit)

Honest to God, I'm just a mediocre talen

But at the very least, at the end of it

I can just laugh and pretend

It didn't happen

Fellas,

You ever been shit on by two women

At the same time,

(not literally–

but , ust out o f curiosity,

If i was being seriously literal,

How many of you

Would have still said yes,

By a raise of hands?

Or, lets just have all the

Supersta DJs stand up

(Every single fan would give you a hand job!)

Just remember the guy holding

The sign at Trader Joe's in the back of the store that says

“The line starts here” doesn't get paid anymore

Than the guy taking a nap in the bathroom

Or the chick who's crying on her

“Fuck it, I quit!”

–But Hailey, we needed the second income

Gotta start somewhere

“–I just need a plunger”

Better try elsewhere, bud

It'll be well into next year, before I get anywhere with this

Dillon Francis Shit.

Fuck.

I did it again

I let my obsessions slip

In the deadmau5, a false flag

In the big relay race to Skrillex

—and I can't image how backed up his inbox is

with pictures of ass and tits on

Anyday of the year,

but especially, this–

Happy Birthday, kid.

Now where's the pinata?

I oughtta wish him a bat to the head

For the shit he said

And he blasted that bathroom snapchat pic

All over the internet

It's all over the internet

Better yet,

I'm on the black market,

I just bought it for a dollar

I bet i could show you how wrong you are with just a remark

Suck my balls, fart.

That guy's a lot to handle.

Didn't I start this off with something more poetic?

I bet,

but got stuck in a mousetrap

I hope you're happy, you know

Actually,

I'm hoping it turns out tragic

Haven't you ever run out of your magic?

Wait, nobody has that.

It was.

All just.

In. Your.

Head.

Wake.

UP.

Hey kid,

What's the plan for tomorrow?

(Hopefully more falafels,

but probably not, thought)

Uh,

I gotta show up at the post office,

*facepalm*

Another Dillon Francis reference

Forget I ever had instagram

( haven't yet

So, what's the plan then?

More bacon on my bacon.

Okay, Mr. Miserable,

I get we're incompatible,

But i”m an animal,

Or at least the bi-product of something

Or somesuch

Fuck it,

I give all the way up.

Hey kid,

If i jump in front of a train

(and don't make it)

How am I gonna explain this?

I almost forgot how

When pretty girls turn evil

They get ugly

Huh

I guess I should humble up and consider us equals

huh

hey satan

I wish I could just –

Forget it

I wish i could just

Forget it

I wish i could just

Forget it

Any other kind of way,

And i could go crazy on a day like this

Okay, Dillon Francis. You have my blessing.

I–what.

You have my blessing.

For what.

You love this girl.

CONT'D

Then marry her.

Wait, do what.

So it's settled!

Wait.

You're getting married.

DILLON FRANCIS IS ENGAGED.

YES.

whaaaaat .

MAZEL TOV, MOTHERFUCKER.

Wait.

*CHAMPAGNE SHOWERS SELF*

YESSSSSSSSS.

ohmygod.

Wait, why are you so happy?

Because!

*MORE CHAMPAGNE SHOWERS*

Wow.

What's going on.

When Dillon Francis gets married, I get pizza.

What's so special about pizza.

CHEESE.

Oh, so it's cheese, you want?

Stop comin' up in my dreams, motherfucker!

These are my dreams.

Well, that's gross!

Is it.

Why are we we at McDonalds?

When else am I gonna eat at McDonalds.

You're right.

I'm always right.

Maybe that's why you're so miserable.

Yeap, pretty much.

Where's your head?

In the shop.

FLASHBACk:

Ū stabs DEADMAU5 through the head with her SPEAR.

That's it? It's just a “spear?” It doesn't have a cool name or anything like that?

No, it literally only exists like, once.

It's an ancillary rave weapon?

No, it's–it's just a spear.

(FROM THIS SCENE)

Ū is sharpening a spear, unaasumingly, when deadmau5 casually walks in.

What's that spear for?

[Deadmau5 enters unassumingly]

YAH.

Ū dramatically jabs spear into the left eye of the mau5 helmet, precisely through the center of the ‘X', and consequently through his head it sparks and glitches, before turning ‘off', as his body begins bleeding profusely, dying against the wall.

HOOOOO

YOOOOOOO

WHAT THE FUCK.

*everyone is shocked*, but Ū seems unbothered entirely, if not bored.

You killed deadmau5

Well, you asked.

I asked why you had a spear!

–And i demonstrated.

OH MY GOD.

Lol demon-strated.

YOU KILLED DEADMAU5

Don't worry, he'll be back.

Hi, yes, I'd like a large cheese pizza.

What are you doing.

Extra cheese.

Sunni.

What does it look like i'm doing.

Ordering a pizza.

Cause i'm ordering a pizza! Fuck!

Hello. Yeah, sorry.

Sunni.

WHAT. SHUT UP.

You're strictly vegan.

Well, now i'm vegetarian.

Shut up.

sunni!

What!? THE FUCK.

It's in your contract.

So is this.

What.

What. Do you want pizza?

Sunni.

Make that two pizzas.

Sunni

Yes, both extra cheese.

Ok.

Sunni.

Shut up.

Ok.

Sunni

SHUT UP.

No not you!

Apologies.

Ok. Use the intercom.

Peace.

*hangs up*

Fuck yeah. Fuck Dillon Francis.

Sunni, what are you doing?

I'm–going for a swim. In my pool.

No, I mean.

What.

You have sponsorship with like 8 Stictly Pro-Vegan companies.

I also have sponsorship with Walmart.

WAL * MART

That's not the point.

What's the point?

You're being avoidant.

I–always avoid you.

You have contracts!

That's why I avoid you.

With huge companies!

Yeah, well. Tonight I'm having pizza in my hot tub.

You can't just.

Trust me, Maybel.

IT's-

I have another contract that I promise, overrides any other contract. Hands down.

What's this got to do with Dillon Francis.

NOTHIN.

*phone rings*

YO.

Ugh.

Yeah, Come over.

Sunni!

I ordered pizza.

[later, in the hot tub]

Nevermind, next scene!

Ah NO!

What!

(Don't worry, I know how it goes.)

“What do you want?” It's as if the entire universe was asking in tandem, in every way it could, what I really wanted–almost forcing me to recollect: what did I actually want?

WHAT DO YOU WANT?!

Well, for the most part, I wanted to live.

Okay, you're alive.

No, I promise, i'm dead as fuck.

Well, if i'm dead, then, it doesn't really matter if I

SHUT UP.

What?

JUST SHUT UP.

Uhm.

UGH.

Before KA has even realized, KU has disappeared entirely. He is left in the expanse of the outer darkness alone–and perhaps, even, for the first time in his existence–afraid.

A look of worry and fear reflect in his eyes, ever growing darker by the fading light of the distant cosmos as he stands at once still in the enclave of nonexistence.

TO BE CONTINUED

Honestly, though–

I just wanna get like, really hot, and like

Fuck a bunch of good looking white dues

I mean, really good looking

Smart ones

Probably do that,

eat a bunch of whole, healthy foods

Cook more healthy shit

Bake pies

Fuck some more

–and forget I ever even tried to make music.

Lol

And maybe while i'm doing that I can popo out a couple kids

Make sure the one i've got doesn't have to weigh like 500 pounds,

Publish some of my books,

Play video games

And forget about what a DJ is or what they do

Unless I occasionally show up to a festival

To get shitfaced

And be really hot,

Like I never got to be in my teens,

Or in my 20's

–But on the other hand,

If i can't do any of that–

I don't know,

not exactly live my hopes and dreams,

cause , you know–

Everything i've just described in the above parenthetical

Isn't nesseicarily me living my dreams,

Or even

“Living my best life”

Cause if i'm living my best iife

I'm headlining EDC,

(Before getting shitfaced),

And,

I don't know,

Not maybe fucking like an entire football team of good looking hite dudes

–I mean really good looking–

Smart ones–

But like, just one–

Whose hopes and dreams align with mine, and maybe
I don't know,

Isn't a nightmare?

But that's pushing it.

Taht's wild to think about:

Me living my best life actually is pursuing all of my passions

One of which is music

(Fucking shoot me)

and while I don't nessecarily even have a passion in literature–

Which is, honestly,

More, like,

Just a natural talent,

For example,

How,

Even after running 2 miles on the treadmill,

Lifting what's around apparently ‘135',

(according to some stranger at the gym)

And working out to my own mixtape–

Not once, but twice–

Because i hadn't heard it in so long that I had actually forgotten

How goog it was;

And, it was so good,

I couldn't actually believe it–

Like, at all–

So instead of listening to another mixtape,

I just listened to it again to confirm

(With myself)

“Damn, that was good”

Cause it was–

Only to come back to this giant,

Piece of shit,

Hell hole of a hotel

To find that whatever satanic demon seems to have possessed m roommate

Actually has the ability to make me want to kill myself
For the first time in weeks.

So i think about it,

After not feeling an ounce of suicidal ideation

In the amount of time it's taken to turn a

15 minute mile

Into a ten minute mile,

A ten minute mile into an

Eight Minute Mile,

And An Eight minute mile into

Two eight minute miles,

Nonstop, by the way,

Which isn't much by the standards of the people who grew up on

Whole foods diet and taking vitamins that

Didn't look like

Flinstones and taste like sweettarts

Cause lets face it:

That's sweet tarts, right?

–but it is impressive to me

I impressed myself;

I cured 30 years of trauma and depression by eating exclusively at

Whole Foods Market

And going to the gym every day

Even if its for 5 minutes

Every Single Day

With the exception of–

You know

When my roomate's depression gets so bad

It becomes contagious, and exhausting to the point that

I can only listen to the 48 laws of power on repeat

So many times

And can't help on my life to think about her

When it gets to the law that states

That you can die of other people's misery.

Cause you can,

And I almost did,

So i consider myself, these days

to be more dead than alive, or to have never lived

Cause i've got

Skrillex on a world tour dancing around in one side of my brain and,

deadmau5 swinging his dick around somewhere in my subconcious

–and of course, Dillon Francis somewhere between my funny bone

And my frontal lobe wreaking more havoc on my psyche than any man should have the ability to,

but -

Again,

I've come so far

And fought so hard just

Trying to live

or at least

Trying to catch up

To the caucasians

And sometimes, but rarely

asians and other ethnics that

actually fit in;

and were born alive rather than dead

In bodies and with minds that functioned

Maybe not perfectly,

But well enough to socialize

or capitalize on whatever strengths and talents they were given

Not to complain

(Again)

But just to reiterate,
I was born with gifts and talents,

But, doubling back

To the 48 Laws

I learned all of them from my mom

Before I turned one

And the way I read the book was

Pretty much just

A backwards regression,

Realizing that having a mother

With so much trauma and depression

Might effect everything

And be the difference between

Being an athlete, a superstar musician

Or any other reason I abandoned Instagram;

Cause i don't like the algorithm reminding me

Of how fat I am

Or that I'm black

Or how much i've failed

Or of all the things I could but can't do

Because i'm still playing catch up to Karen

Or whatever you wanna call her

We all have names, but

It's possible that

We've been lost

In all the comparison to one another

Because in all this time

Woman to woman and

Man to man

Nobody really knows what the fuck it is they really want.

So what do I want?

Fuck it,

I want a yacht,

With deadmau5, Skrillex, and Dillon Francis on it

Just so i can throw them off

and ride off into the sunset

So i can go preform at some awesome Insomniac event

Where i'll fall in love with everybody in the front row

–well, maybe, not all of them

but a lot,

Or maybe I just want their bodies

I don't know

The only difference between love and lust comes

From motherhood;

So where's my son fit in to all of this?

Or i should just

Leave him in the dust, with his father

Who I often think of

Cause the raised scar he left me

Crosses my tongue every other word?

Sure. Whatever.

It's just more to write about,

But I might want less to write about cause

I've been studying other authors

And the shotguns that they loved enough to swallow

–But honesty, i've been working out so hard

It's hard to want to off myself

Till I come to this hotel

Where my roommate just–

Doesn't sti will with me

And doesn't sit still at all

—which is crazy to think

That in all this narcissism i've developed

I still have enough empathy

That her anxiety makes me

Feel the need to eat, or if I haven't

So empty I coud vomit

And i thought i was making it up, but

As it turned out,

Beautiful women can't be tested

And it seems she's probably still beautiful

To the many men

that would love to have

a perfect girl

To bend to his will;

But really, It's almost as if

with every evil thing she's done

someone uglier replaces the girl I first saw

With each remark

Of course, I'm sure it's all for something

But i wanted more for us to get along

Than to have a room alone

Where i could tell this story;

Or write my albums

Or wipe the slate clean

I'm thinking of just

Starting over

Of course, sixteen pages deep

I find it hard to believe

It really just comes naturally

And quite automatic

That it's almost paranormal

What do I want?

A warm body

That won't hurt me

a home of my own

A couple of dogs –

Here it goes again

Fuck Dillon Francis

I want a life so well fucking lived

And well accomplished that

It doesn't even matter,

The Festival Project, or anything in it

Fuck, I just want to be happy

What if i cured 30 years of depression

Eating Whole Foods Market

and working out, without

Therapy,

Using google documents and

Dance music as an outlet?

Wouldn't you be proud?

Or maybe I could get offed for that.

I don't know..

Maybe what's good for the goose is good for the gander

The password was flagship

Getting abstract and poetic again,

Picking up pennies

bending my enemies into my empathy,

Sweltering, sweating regrets on my epitaphs

Ugh

The best of the best,

A decade has passed

I'm switching my cadences,

Just in case somebody reads this crap

Blissful awareness,

I shouldn't be scares of it

Clandestine palaces crash,

Shattered by amethyst

Man, fuck dillon francis

and his happy ass,

always had it,

perfectly privleged

caucasian interchangeable

dangerous engagement of a

girlfriend .

Yeah, fuck both of them.

Again, if you're taking it literal–

Fuck it,

They're both fucking beautiful.

I'll just be

USeful, or something.

Should probably brush up my resume–

Interesting, isn't it?

Haven't thought of jumping in front of a train

before neyla went crazy,

But heyl

I made it up.

We can pretend we're individuals

But i live in a collective consciousness,

Whoever's in ignorant bliss of this

I consider lucky, negligent, and unconscious

But that's just be being pompous.

I'm half a white supremacist, anyway

Conservative, straight up

But lately, I hate the whole game game I made up

But hey,

At least there's deadmau5.

Oh yeah, that's what I want.

I want to be like deadmau5.

I want a whole house filled with synthesiszers

A custom sound system

and a hot wife;

A big brain,

A fan base,

And a nice body;

I want a whole lot of

Flying around,

and everybody loving me;

And loving every body

At every party

Amen

Yeah, that's what I want.

I want to be a rockstar;

I want a daughter with Skrillex

And six encores.

I want a horse drawn carriage;

An all-star wedding,

and a Tesla;

I want my chest done so damn big,

I need a reduction.

Better stay humble.

For better, or worse, you know.

If it was a curse,

I'd probably be worse off,

Than all who have wronged me–

It never lasts long,

It's all temporary,

Nobody loves me–

I'm just a pathological insomniac

Call me a

Devil, I'll try to find him–

A vegan light skin, but in the eyes

I'd probably find him

A cut above it all,

I'm just in awe we've never talked,

But i'm just like you

A stone against a wall,

I'd be a shamed to call my father

Suicidal

But that's where my mind goes

When there's no one

And my own son

Doesn't know me

But I only know

What love is

Cause i held him

In my arms

the very moment

He was born

So

What do I want?

I want him to know?

I'll always love him

No matter where I go

And I'd rather be homeless

Than no one

In my own home

Next to his father

What do I want?

I want him to go to school

And never worry

if he''ll be able to catch up.

What do I want?

I want a family,

But that can't heppen

Cause nobody loves me

What do I want?

I want to see Satan in his own body;

Instead of taking the ones around me

And playing with them

Since he wants to follow me

What do I want?

A lot of money

Said everybody.

What do I want?

A son and a daughter–

that won't die before me.

What do I want?

I want someone else to recite this anomaly of poetry with, or without me.

What do I want?

I want to google the definition of ‘pithy”

Cause it's been circling incessantly inside my head

Like depression hasn't;

But my roomate has it

And i'm not trying to catch it

Fucking toxic obnoxious

Whatever, forget it

SUCCUBUS.

Yeah, we know what that is.

pith·y

/ˈpiTHē/

adjective

1.

(of language or style) concise and forcefully expressive.

2.

(of a fruit or plant) containing much pith.

Nice.

Yeah well.

This whole thing is opening my third eye,

To how guys see it.

It doesn't make sense

To give consent,

And then renig it;

This isn't sex

But if it was,

Why would you mess with his head like that?

And if it was

If you wanna lay in bed and get fat, that's fine

But get the fuck out of here with that

I can't

So

What do I want?

To keep counting my blessings that I got healthy

What do I want?

I want psychology to catch up to my understanding.

What do i want?

Honestly, i just want my own something

What do I want?

To balance the toxicity, I guess

Everybody has choices

And mine is–

I count my blessings, just to stay blessed

I don't want anything from anybody.

But i don't say don't cause that negates negativity, entirely .

Perhaps, soe reverse psychology,

But if I go back to school

I'll be bored

(and really horny)

If i go back to school,

I'll owe even more money!

If i go back to school

I'll do music and not psychology.

If i go back to school,

I'll have professors younger than me.

If i go back to school

I'll drown in the toxicity;

The new generation's vaping, hating themselves

canceling everything:
everyone's a baby rapist

But you can't say it

or isolate them

cause tolerating even the most

Unsavory behavior is

fuck , i lost it.

What happened.

Idk. eminem's cadence. It had an ‘a'

Lets see. fuck .

To tolerate sunsavory behavior is worth debating,

Nope, i lost it

You thnk so

Idk if i think about it too much it'll lose its

what

Soul.

What. you have one of those?

Yeah.

Dang. That's cool.

Everyone has one

(that's not true)

*shrugs* I don't.

What.

I used to.

What?!

I sold it.

What.

To the devil.

Now i'm famous.

*shrugs, super satisfied*

…How'd you get famous?

…I woke up like this.

*nods, unquestioning*

I still remember the taste of bong water like it was yesterday.

I guess i'd consider bondage, for the right boytoy.

So what do you want?

I want to stop writing, but it's still early.

What do you want?

I want more coffee, and less yawning.

What do you want?

I want God to be happy, Cause i personified her

And she's angry I ruined my body by eating.

Perceivably.

The positives:

Now I knw Sweet Chili Doritos are probably vegan.

The positives:

Now I know she's programmed by the government and/or susceptible to possession by satan, or a combination of both things–assuming one is not the other, as not astonishingly, the toxicity it would take to program one person to torture another is alarmingly evil;

But Karma comes to those who intentionally hurt others, you know–

I've been brushing up on Kabbalah

It seems to attempt to provoke, but

I'd rather do nothing but stall

Perhaps i've adapted habits

Become pathological, or

What have you

At least I know that condition

comes from trauma

Not that i'm

Not responsible

I just stoped giving a fuck

If everything i do is wrong

And i'm the problem

Why do i keep waking up, then?

What do you want?

I want Whole Foods Market to sponsor me.

What do you want?

I want Equinox Fitness seven days a week.

What do you want?

I want to raise smart and capable children.

What do you want?

I want to forget Dillon Francis ever existed

I want Skrillex to stop being Skrillex

I want synthesizers and acoustic instruments in my top floor apartment

In manhattan, and

My ex husband to pay back

All of the money I paid him

But that's pushing it.

I want everything.

I want a world tour

I want to do more with my life than just

Sit here

And write about it

I want to be wanted and loved

Not by everybody

But perhaps

Just a loyal fanbase

A few hundred thousand

Maybe a million

Considering there are 8 billion people on the planet and

My talent is condensed and limited by

The language barrier

I want Bearr to be anywhere he feels happier

I want people to know that I tried my best, i”m not lazy

I want people to know the rest of the story

Why i'm crazy

How I made it all up–

And they helped me

How we all decided on the world we're in together

And the only way to get to heaven is to remember.

Kx5

…I remember.

MAN, SHUT THE FUCK

–

UP.

My documents is glitching

Must be witchcraft

(Or Glitchcraft, my other alias)

As it's getting close to Christmas

*hoodness*

Niggas, man.

My butt keeps getting bigger, man

Suit up for the sermon

I haven't gone frgun surfin as Sunni

Since SupaSunday survs.

Ahem.

Fuck Starr Robert's the wifebeater—

You wanna ride on your ex wife'a fame:

Well here it is,

That's what your name is:

Starr Michael Roberts, The Wifebeater

Comma and all

And fuck Mike Roberts Sr

For beating your mother—

(Cause you need her.)

What goes around comes around

With these words, I defeat you

Can't afford feed you;

So here go the demons

Try eating em.

I try meeting men

Looking lean and thin,

But that's besides the point—

Anoint myself in oil,

Cause what it boils down to is

I'll spoil my kid

However I see fit

Using the music I do

Cause you couldn't

Enough of that

I get reminded of the past daily,

It's a regression of Chanpion sweaters

Dirty white Nikes

And train riders with anxiety

Sitting by me

That knee shaking thing,

And coughing

“He must hate me”,

I think

Cause he never could have loved me

To put a curse on

Poor son

Growing up on McDonald's and hot pockets

—but I got nothin

My father ain't got a lawyer

So I'm undercover

Till supacree comes back

To smoke you

Keep smoking

You see me on TV

You don't know me

I don't owe nobody nothing

And feeding informants

Father for the punishments and judgements

Try punching a light skin

You like this?

It's not lyrics I write

//return to sender//

Just like this

Get out of my face

With the crazy shit!

You made me do this,

Fuck it, I'll keep pressing the red button then,

Just for the record,

I don't need medical attention

Unless it's part of the decision to let me in

To an Ivy legume college

On scholarship

So check to complex rhymes, man

Check out the complex

I'm not gonna fight over a man,

*laughs*

That's just madness and Satanic,

I'm way past hate and angst;

Please!

The “Prince of Peace”

Is reading this

Vengeful and revenge seeking

Cause I promise

I'm not confrontational,

Multi-national linguist,

Entertainer of languages,

Maker of sandwhiches,

And handsome Skrillexes.

I riddle this nigga for dinner;

For pleasure and other reasons,

The change of the seasons is over

It's cold as fuck

Like my heart is

I'm an artist

What the fuck do you want

Been made to suffer too long

*coughs*

Cover your mouth you programmable posessivle depressive sons of bitches—

Whoever did this is gonna get it

(Unless it's the government)

Crumbling under itself for what it did l

To the inhabitants of the Divided Fakes of

unbearable unaffordable divorced mothers and fathers,

Sisters and brothers unrecognizable to each other anymore

Over fucking currency—

I'm done with earth!

If all you want is money to buy stuff

Keep struggling and suffering

Of love is gone

Then so is time

And so is I am

I am I

You wanna kill me?!

Now you die.

Return to sender.

Wife eating little puert ass bitch.

Can't forgive someone who never apologized

Cause the statute of limitations isn't up

I'm not giving up,

I love my son;

I'll send the aliens to pick him up

—A Rendevous;

A Coup d'état,

An “I love You” from afar,

Though I'm lost,

Might not come back around,

Might be one, might be dos

Might be God or just

The other one

For the love of money

Here's a double dose of

“Shut the fuck up”

With a spoonful of sugar,

From the Wrong Mary Poppins

Where it pops off,

In the long run.

Bro there has better be a better drop after a monologue like that or I'm gonna be mad at myself for staring into space.

(There wasn't.)

STAY IN YOUR LANE, STARR

THIS AINT A GAME, STARR

YOU ARE A LAME, STARR—

I AM A GANG-STAR

FAME-STAR

VAMPIRE FANG-STAR

“Dang Starr,

Is that your old lady?!

YOU MUST'VE REALLY FUCKED UP, DAWG

YOU GOT ME FUCKED UP, STARR

WHAT'S UP STARR?!

KILL YOU ON WORLDSTAR

GOLDSTAR

DON'T START

LIKE THE ONLY CAR YOU OWN STARR

WOAH, gotta go hit the road, Starr

Choke on a pole, Starr

So far

Karma hit you sitting all alone Starr

I'm not sorry!

Got a scar on my eye

And a scar on my heart!

Gasoline and a spark

Your whole hearse

Just to watch you burn.

Reverse the curse

You worthless—

Whoever her is

Deserves ya,

The only mother to you son

Is the ONE

WHO I AM

DIE NOW

I know it's been awhile but I still have flashbacks

The train was

Dragging my body

Ten whole blocks

Between two stops

Before anyone noticed I jumped

Not even the driver

It was a long ride up

It was a long ride back

It was a long way there

I took the wrong way out

I took the long way home

I took the long way gone

I took took the long way around

I took the local

I took the local

I took the local

I took the local

“Be careful of mirrors”

Haven't looked in the mirror since

Mirrored rocks and mirrored doors open.

I was hoping…

A split decusion, impulsive

I jumped before I even thought of it

Subtropics lol subtropics

Ganja White Night

Liquid Stranger

Excision

Space Laces

Space Jesus

Four Tet

Clap tone

Urban flora

Marian Hill

Blunts N Blondes

Got most of these, still need a couple more albums to start my apprenticeship in dubstep.

Lol

“Bass music”

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Idc if I'm an NPC at least I'm not trying to kill people by using weak and immoral individuals susceptible control and possession to attack using psychological terrorism.

But whatever.

What goes around comes around.

All this war that being fought is being fought on stolen sacred land on the graves of the bloodshed of hundreds of thousands.

Cough at me all you want

Cut me off in the street—

Keep sending people to infiltrate my creative spaces and sacred places—

I'm not worried.

Karma Comes Around

-X.