George Washington

John Adams

Thomas Jefferson

James Monroe

Nope, can't for the life of me remember the 5th

Oh shit, I was wrong

Turns out, my memory only can hold three.

That's a good number

I really wish you'd stop just–showing up like this.

I never leave.

Then go away.

I live here.

I know you'd like to think that, but–

Okay, I'm going to tell you something but I need you to remain calm.

What time is it?

I don't care

Are we gonna make a movie?

Depends; is it gonna make me money.

FINE.

I don't need anymore information about anything else: only these three.

Are you serious?

I wish I wasn't.

I need you to do this.

Look, Timmy–I'm not really into grantng wishes anymore. It always blows back on me.

A blowjob.

Uh huh.

That's why you're bothering me.

I–would rather you just pick up the call.

Take a message.

I like ‘em like this.

I like ‘em like that.

I like ‘em like this.

–and I like ‘em like that.

And I like ‘em like this.

–and I like ‘em like that.

Mmm like that.

Like that.

I like ‘em like this.

I like ‘em like that.

I like ‘em like this.

–and I like ‘em like that.

And I like ‘em like this.

–and I like ‘em like that.

Mmm like this

Like that.

Like —

_____

The urge to eat had suddenly left me

I wanted a burrito,

(But I want to eat red meat)

I've gotta stop thinking in sequences and parentheses

Complex lines, and writing in past tense so presently.

I probably should eat

(But probably shouldn't…)

I'm starting to bleed;

As if i'd been fasting

Perhaps, though I had been

But had so indulgently feasted

On calories enough to last me

Till after today

(or even till next week)

PAY ATTENTION.

Woah, to WHAT.

Holy shit, I knew this dude was a psychopath but.

This is real.

ARE YOU SEEING THIS.

I “see” it.

I should stop meditating in public.

You see this? I know everything about you.

Why?

I bought it on the internet.

What is it.

Metadata.

That's…flattering.

Yeah.

Wake up.

Why, where are we going?

Atlanta.

What's in Atlanta?

You see this?

Yes.

Do you know what it is?

Uh, it's a–

What is it?

It's a doll.

It's not a doll.

Oh, it's not.

Gimmie a dollar.

-_-

It's a poppit.

“Dr pimple popper”

Ew that's fucking gross.

I hate this.

Let me see.

Does s/he have backne?

Yes/No.

Great, i'll take it.

Fuckit.

Okay, I got to “whatever”.

You went too far.

What? I thought I was supposed to go past “fuckit”

Yeah, you go past fuckit,

I did that!

But if you get to “whatever”, you've gone too far.

You've gotta go back.

Back to WHAT. There was almost no space between “fuckit” and “whatever”

Oh trust me. There is.

So?

This is how he's been controlling you.

And?

And!?

Has it ever occurred to you that I want to be controlled?

What!

That it just takes the right person to get that kind of permission–

permission to what

Permission to ride.

…

Maybe I gave him the reigns.

What horse “gives” its rider the reigns.

Who said anything about a horse?!

Another Horse Mix.

Nice.

fuck .

FYCK.

I told you.

You know what…
Maybe that's my poppit.

What.

Maybe.

I'm so confused.

Oh, good–the reversal spell worked.

You did a reversal spell on me?

Only after I found out what spell you put on ME–FIRST.

Yeah, except I wasn't the first one to use that spell on you.

EXACTLY. COPY-CAT.

Moo.

Aww.

I'm a cat.

…

*face*

I mean “meow”

That's right. Cat.

…moo.

*face*

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

[When it]

Turns out,

The bottom of your heart

Was the tip of the Ice Berg

And the whole ship has [s]unk[en],

[&] I[t]'s probably ice cold

At the bottom of the ocean;

I'll tell you where i'm from

Why,

I'll tell you anything for

About one dollar

Turns out,

I've already got one eye on you;

One eye'd sad heart

I should probably roll out my art on you

[I probably should not]

One man bought a kiss,

Another, a whole night from her–

One man bought a whole farm

The other, a Whole Foods Market

–and you can't even franchise those

Amazon's got a monopoly

We were playing for corners of earth,

All i got was some kandi,

Subscriptions to candidly,

Actually,

I really liked the tree trial

(I think i'll wait a week, sorry)

When it turns out

The world that you wanted

Was actually hours already

The dollar you got

Was also borrowed

And the money they wanted and got

Was just actually stolen from someone else

They bought all the food up

And sold it for profits

I promise this avocado

Once costs nothing at all

But you wanted that car for your daughter

She's got a mercedes and don't even drive it

My mom, on my honor

Of all the garages in Lost Lands,

I promise the owner of it was

The first to go last,

And the last to come home

Now he's on his own alter

And also the worshiper;

How do you go back?

Oh, you don't

Oh you don't

Oh, you don't wanna know that

But i was of course,

All of your rock bottoms

It's bottoms and tops, and

We don't let the top fall over,

We're counting up crumbs

And this muffin costs $24 dollars

Pour a whole bottle of coconut water out on the sidewalks

For the dead homies

Not dead in the general sense

But just in the head, the heart,

And the soul

The homeless are happier at McDonalds

Than asking at crossroads and crosswalks

For dollars I'd rather spend elsewhere

I'll avoid the power struggle at operations

for about 18 dollars and 56 sense

(Please, keep the pennies)

I'm feeling around in my 6th sense that there's

Something indecent, or decadent

Whichever it is

Cause i'm better of with the memory of it

Than actually dragging it in.

–I'm a cat again.

Ouch.

Shut up.

It HURTS.

Of course it hurts, you just had heart surgery without any anistetics.

YEah, but to be fair–that was a lot of acid.

Yes, but lucily for you–

–or, for him–

Lucily for us, there's no lethal amount of acid.

–Ouch–

–Shut up.

That we know of.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

Still learning how to mix/master. /: might scrap it.

I thought running three miles a day would keep her away—and staying away from the toxic lower vibrations—those who gathered in the hallway to socialize and Esther needed one another to survive—would keep her away—

But on that day, though running my typical 5k in under 30 minutes, not to include the mile walk to the bus stop, and the mile walk back from such—which added up to an almost-Madonna—around 5 and a half miles give or take total—only to return to this, yet another body so susceptible to demonic possession that it literally hurt to stand, in the room which I had peacefully inhabited for quite some time, alone—

“I bet you're suprised to see me here, aren't you?”

She said. She had been hiding at the end of the bed, almost invisible—but the vibration of the room itself had changed with her presence—and I knew from the moment I entered the space that someone was there.

“Not really,” I muttered—and I wasn't. I knew it was 50/50, that with the onslaught of new people that had been brought over from the Bronx

Pause

“Lil biiiiiitz”

Dudes are such little bitches at the gym.

Why the fuck are you throwing your weights?

Why—on earth are you tossing those little five pounders across the room.

What the fuck.

And when they're lifting?

The fuck!

The grunting and yelling

“Aaaaaaaagggghhhhh”

Bro. What are you trying to fucking show?

Fucking pussies.

“Aaaaaaaaaaagggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh”

Dude that's like 25 pounds. My left foot weighs as much. Do you see me grunting every time I take a fucking step?

“Aaaagggggggghhhhhh!!!!”

That shit is not cute.

That does not make you more. Strong, I promise.

I'm a whole a female. I promise.

When I see dudes like this at the gym I'm like

“You little bitch.”

“Naaaaaauuuuvhhhhhhhhh!!!!”

Fucking pussy.

I guess that's why at planet fitness they have the “lunk alarm”

That shit made me quit.

Easy.

I was like

“Cancel my shit.” No.

Then dudes who loom at themselves in the mirror too much as their working out.

“Dude, you're gay.”

Fucking stop it.

Dudes be looking at themselves in the mirror at the gym like

“Yeah, yeah.”

I'm like

“Dude, you should just take it in the butt.” That's gay.

Don't get me wrong.

There's nothing wrong with being gay.

I like dudes who take it in the butt.

Makes you more of a man.

But— be private about it.

If you're looking at yourself in the mirror about to bust a nut.

You've got problems, sir.

“Fuck it, I'm just going to do whatever I want.” I thought to myself—I had been burning myself out, running myself rampant, and though making headway, it was still to no avail— my life was loveless, I was penniless, and surrounded by energy I hated—but rather than making me work harder, as it had at first, it tired me so; I felt drained of my energy, and running three miles a day, even though it was only half of Madonn's standard pre-show 6 I had read about, I much doubted anyone with such beautiful blue eyes or luxurious blonde hair had been against any of at all of the adversity or hardships I had—in fact, I theorized quite often that blue eyed blonde haired people spent so much of their lives surrounded by love and light, that they were able to live and dwell off of this energy. But love was almost nearly rarely found in the ghetto—though lust, codependency, and insequirity flourished, there was almost no love around at all—save for the occasional mothers and this r children—that is, the mothers that actually cared for their children, rather than just supplying the world with them like machines, without giving much of a care. The hundreds of immigrants in the neighborhood often seemed more like cattle than actual human beings—then—most human beings did seem to be somewhat unconscious, and more sheepish than ever—the entire world had been programmed into an unconscious lull.

“I'm not running—for what?” I thought obstinately. “Nobody's paying me.” It was true, and it seemed the Illuminati was playing games with my Monty once again—I had received one out of six of the overdue backpay I had earned—and I found it uncanny the ability for the unemployment agency to act as if the money itself didn't belong to an individual—it had, after all, come out of a paycheck I had worked to earn at some point, and been withheld in the form of taxes or something rather—and, with the new burden of having someone around, especially when I wanted to be alone—I felt it relentlessless draining to keep trying to appease the white supremacy—and they had made it more than apparent that they were in control of everything, and especially the more-than-typically programmable black people who ran the homeless system— as disorganized and irritatingly out of whack as you would expect a mostly-black organization to be. I now understood my mother's own aversion to black culture, and was thankful that I hadn't been raised in the ghetto or in any place with a black majority—but now I was getting my fair share of the black world, or “the black lands” as I called them, where the white supremacy had made sure that the systematic oppression was put into and stayed in effect, not any longer governed by whites, but by blacks themselves—they seemed to even take pride in em parting the oppression on one another, which was no less than sickening, but the reality of it.

Luckily, however, at least from what it looked like, the decision to —

I gave up writing mid-thought, abandoning one idea for another—I had so much to do, and had been drained of my energy, especially lately, and whether it had been intentional or not, tt seemed the longer I spent in lower-vibrational environments, the more the pull of the void would set in.

“I miss Equinox.”

But my money, until I returned to the decks, at least—was in short supply—and I was even more offset than I had been before, in returning to work as a DJ, after waking from a dream in which Sonny had said

“Nobody wants to hire you.”

And since then, I had been almost relentlessly discouraged from even trying, though I thought perhaps that since returning to my ex's care, perhaps I was again being haunted by the curse set on my soul—my son, did in fact—have my eyes, and was probably excusaitiny unhappy with his father—but I had chosen to let go, or at least try to, and though I wasn't entirely devoid of love from it all, I remained detached, and focused on becoming someone, anyone else, besides the ex wife of a fat wifebeater—I had no other thoughts of my ex than this, simply “a wifebeater” he was and would remain in the back of my mind, and with every haunting cough and thought, with every energy that seemed demonic enough that it would follow me, I returned his karma. I wanted it gone, but for that to happen it would be more likely that I would have to kill myaelf again—a fate to which every thought brought me closer to at all.

lil biiiiiiiiitzzzz

People are too social.

I mean, I'm wrong to be on the exact opposite of the spectrum, I'll admit, I'm anti social.

“Don't talk to me.”

The devil used to show up every once in awhile to try to discourage me.

He's like

“Nobody wants to be around you.”

I'm like

“Good, then it's working.”

I put that in my vibration.

“Don't come over here.”

“Stay over there.”

“No.”

The devil was like

“Nobody likes you”

I'm like

“Good. I don't like anybody either.”

“Get. The fuck. Away.”

I don't like people.

But especially—

You know what?

I hate Latin men.

They're fucking horrible.

It's a cultural thing.

They call it “machismo”

But I'll tel you what it is.

Is the most selfish thing ever.

I hate it.

They front as so masculine, it actually comes off as femme.

And—

Go ahead, cancel me.

This is something I don't understand about the Latin culture at all:

Why be obnoxious—on purpose?

Like,

Why do you guys laugh like jackals?

“Hehehehehehehehe”

You sound like a pack of retarded hyenas.

It's—

You haven't heard this?

It's an egg aerated, pitched

-up laugh.

It's a fake laugh.

But they do it on purpose.

It's purposely obnoxious!

“Hehehehehehehe!!!!”

What the fuck. Shut up.

The funny thing is, I actually appreciate a lot of the Latin culture. I really do. I love a lot of it.

Believe me. I do.

But not that.

Not that at all.

“Hehehehehehehehe””

WHY.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

To do:

rigorous study of, or great accomplishment within, a particular field; a long track record of competence in a demanding field; an extensive history of dedication and effort in service to a specific discipline (e.g., medicine or law) or a high degree of accomplishment, training or wisdom within a given field; a high degree of physical discipline.

Bruh. The CIA is wilin'

I know, I honest to God love these guys.

What? You think i'm kidding.

Give me something to shut up about

Come fill up my mouth,

Rather than my mind with doubt

Don't wonder about me;

I'd rather have you come out

(I'll be a lady)

It won't be the talk of the town;

In the pillow face down,

So it muffles the sound

How about that

Holy fuck, i'm depressed, man.

YWH.

WHAT.

He's got beautiful eyes.

Oh my God. What a beautiful baby.

Let's just face it: we're gonna have some funny looking kids.

Funny looking kids have higher moral values.

You're not wrong.

So it's true,

What everybody says about you

I hear what they all say

I wanna hear what they all say

You wanna hear what they all say?

So it's true

What everybody says

Says about you

I want your body on my body

I almost never thought of you

I haven't got to wonder longer

I'll drift off to find you

I think

I love you.

( I certainly love you)

“Lover,”

I called her a lover.

The shaman was never a shaman.

The mother was always a mother.

I love you.

Yo,

What's that like?

‘I thought to myself'

I just wanna know.

I wanna know your story

Well, here I go–

It doesn't take long,

You know

Just stick with the program,

Hope some of it sticks at all

Don't let the tears fall out, at all

Don't let the tears out, no

Don't go

It is in a different order;

A whole different story

But it's getting colder

on this whole half of the globe

It doesn't matter to me,

Because it can't

And

It just happens to be because

It is

There's nothing left between us but the wind

There's nothing left between us but the wind

It's been a while since i've been injured this badly

My heart is so broken, I wonder if it was ever whole

I hadn't quite captured that monster
I tend to get jealous

Even when it don't make sense

I'm not a well woman

I'm envious,

Ingenious, even

Same as it always was

Friends with benefits

My name is Sami

If you ask me

I've got business

In Manhattan

Better run along to make it better, now

If I can

another random dance

Another heart attack,

A mild one

It goes on for miles and miles

Why I had my eyes on

I'll never know

It's hard at the front lines,

You're always on camera

I'll never be good enough

I'll never be worth it

Let it happen

Lift the curse up

I miss having the nerve just to swallow it all down at once

Bury my head in the sand

As if anything was random,

Rather than calculated

If i could rest for a second and take it all in

That i might as well say I won't make it

It's all up in flames, now

Don't be mad

It don't matter to me

I don't care about love

About nothing, and nobody

I surely don't care about me

See

It's all up in flames now

And it's kind of unlikely

That I'll see you this time round

But you know where to find me

Or how

I don't let any tears down

The whole two hours

I'm almost proud of it

I don't care who she is

I'd just rather not be reminded

Out of sight

Out of mind

I've been keeping my eye on

But my mind off

Round and round, gone

Like a fire alarm

At least the last time i heard on

Talking in shapes

But i'd rather not talk at all

The whole world is on fire

I hate girls,

Cause i never was one

I only like white light to quench my thirst

It's a fire alarm

And the black smoke

Goes up

Now, i don't smile a lot

But i talk to God

very often, look

It's a game of luck,

And i've lost some

I've lost

All ive got

I got nothing left

Nothing left to want

I just want a friend

or a plug

But i've got to get off some

I bought a rocket to mars once

I've come back, now

Funny story

I was sorry, but

Now i'm more glorified for it

Guess you caught me

What a number huh

I should call it up

A postpartum stutter

Never a woman i was

Or a girl

but a mother of someone

Who might have forgotten

No, I'm never gonna look like that

I'm never gonna be like her

I'm never gonna sound alike

Like a God

I just worship the front lines

Figure it out

I was never enough for no one

Was never a girl

But was somehow, instead

Born a woman and mother

I mortify man

with my body

How grotesque,

To be dead,

It is

How hazardous,

To put this on

It's just a show

It's just a job

Such a number

I should just shut up

I should wash my hands of obsession

But love's just a body

I rather admire it

Have I done enough

Have I done enough yet

I've been out of my body,

But never like this

If you can make me come once

You can make me come twice

Nevermind, nevermind

Of men and mice

I've been counting my options

And rocks

On the wrong ones

It's only a dolomite

I never promised

I wouldn't promise,

If i had promised to

(What. Ever.)

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

Wanted it, needed it

Needed it—

Got it

Wanted it, needed it

Needed it—

Got it

Wanted it, needed it

Needed it—

Got it

Wanted it, needed it

Needed it—

Got it

Got it

I got it

Got it

I got it

Got it

I got it

Got it

I got it

Wanted it, needed it

Needed it—

Got it

All the strawberries were the sweetest,

He said

Hello Felica, Hello Felicia

The black berries are in season

Hello Felicia, Hello Felicia

The blueberries were all on top

What a set of headlights

On that Honda

Hello, Felicia

I'm glad to meet ya

__

Never leave the house with an unmade bed

Cause God knows I gotta lay in it

I'll rest when i'm dead,

That's what they all said, but

The dead never rest

The dead never rest

Reset, reset

I need 22 minutes and 34 seconds

I need more invitations

To fill up the guestlist

I been seein them hoes

Speaking in code

X's and O's

Oh Lord,

All I want is a home

And to be left alone

Unless you know my motion

You know

The door was just closed
But i'm leaving it open

If you need a lover,

Try getting below me

–It's way below zero where i'm from

No, no, no

This can't be Utah.

Nobody's blonde enough

Where's the officers

Aren't I under arrest for just showing up

I'll see you at the Saltair

YO. GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME.

I'm sorry, I just–

NO.

What happened?

TAKE IT BACK!!

I'm sorry! Please don't fire me.

What happened?

I don't know–he was just so good with her last time, I thought I might

*throws things*

I'll be right back.

Wait, hold up, I gotta go fuck with this demon.

DEMON

(or, even, arguably Satan)

WOAH.

Okay.

:||pause.

OKay what.

When did Supacree become a demon slayer.

SUPACREE (V.O.)

Oh, right around this moment…

FLASHBACK

DIE–DIE–DIE!!!

SUPACREE V.O.

Or this one–

HOE ASS BITCH

(Or, possibly also Satan)

You are the weakest link.

Oh yeah, huh.

Fuck that bitch.

SUPACREE

Yeah, that moment was as comparable to as say

SCAR throws MUFASSA off of a cliff.

SIMBA

NOOOOOO–

Yeah, it was something like that but–

SUPACREE (V.O.)

More like this.

*FIGHT TO THE BLOODY DEATH*

Oh, wow, yeah, that.

That was awesome.

SUPACREE (V.O.)

No, it wasn't. But–

That.

[Ū.]

SUPACREE (V.O.)

–is not SUPACREE.

Oh, it's not?

Oh, the hair.

Yeah, but it's still.

SUPACREE (V.O.)

No, it's not.

Don't you think it's weird how this show talks to us through the fourth wall?

All I really do is sit here and hit this bong.

Ya i'm high af.

I'm fukked upppp.

Uhh… Hello.

What up.

…who are you exactly?

I'm yur friend.

No you're not.

Yes i m.

Who are you

HOw did you get in here.

I've always been here.

What.

No.

Hey pass da bong.

Tnks.

*hits bong*

*shrugs*

Fuck. I was supposed to take the night off

I should polish the silver through the fourth wall

Give me shivers and all of that,

OR better yet just give me Skrillex

And i'll forget all of it.

YOu know.

i got a friend you would like.

I've had my eye on you for a very long time.

Oh yeah, which eye?

I bought a baby off craigslist–

Well, not craigslist,

But it might as well have been;

A personal ad was posted.

Here's everything you want to know

How the lonely stoner walks alone at night

Or whatever kidd cudi said

Now he's dead

So I put him on the list for my event

You can't even think to get in

If you didn't

RIP

The grim reaper just sleeps in my bed

I never rest

As I said,

I am Legend;

One live ends,

One begins, but

Bury me at 4:20 on 4:20 or something

I burn money

But not for nothing

Gotta believe something

–A conspiracy theory.

This is only five pages.

Yeah, well, i'm writing to Desperate Housewives, not deadmau5.

Where is deadmau5, anyway.

GET IN THE CORNER.

OK OK–OR–

GET IN THE CORNER.

Yeah, I gotta get off that guy's balls, i think.

Aw, how come?

[COMPLICATIONS, IRL]

BAAAAAALLLLLLLSSSS.

Yeah, I don't know.

Before:

CHAK CHEL

Hm.

What. What's wrong.

CHAK CHEL

Nothing. Nothing at all.

Do you know him or something.

CHAK CHEL

….

OH, COME ON.

CHAK CHEL

WHAT.

FIRST DILLON FRANCIS, NOW THIS?

I KNOW EVERYBODY.

OAGH.

EVERY. BODY.

OH,

Oh, I get it–take the night off.

ILLUMINATI

This kind of therapy can be hard.

…this is psychological terrorism.

ILLUMINATI

We like to call it –

[Flashback]

*More unadulterated chaos*

And sometimes, even warfare.

ILLUMINATI

You're a delightful strategist.

I'm a psychopath.

(V.O.)

The technical term is.

Ū.

I'm a trained assassin.

Oh, it's Ū.

It's Ū again.

SUPACREE (V.O.)

Listen, i've got 9 other aliases and like 5 alter egos,

WHITE AMERICA

We call that multiple personalities.

–Or schizophrenia.

SUNNI BLU feat. KANYE WEST

SHUT UP, WHITE AMERICA.

Ya'll are racist.

Racist af.

IF it was ya'lls kids it would be diagnosed as “Depression”

“Or ADD”

OR ADHD–So you could give every one adderall.

Yeah. everyone not BLACK.

I'm BLACK.

i'M BLACK.

Literally everyone:

…

That's enough politics.

I'm haunted by my own thought's it's sick,

Skip this one, really,

It's stars and stripes forever

and scars and knives

and livelihoods

Tiger's eyes and bears

Oh my

I might need a private file

Never “pedophile”

But everyone has rights to admire what he likes

As long as he's white enough.

Or light skinned,

I'll end this one

Exactly how it started

I'm still holding a fart in,

a spoiled rotten no longer starving artist,

Trying hardest as heartless martyrs ought to.

Oh my god, I almost didn't get out of those phonetics.

I tried to take the night off

But –

oh what the fuck. Of all the time

He got her roses,

But she cut herself on the thorns

I picked up one Calla Lilly

And it meant everything in the world to me

What if everything in life was just meant to be

A memory

Before it could ever be happy?

I've got a faulty soul;

It's best you'd just stay away from me,

All of yous.

Better off falling in love with someone

So far off

I could never be close enough.

I rise and I fall with the sun,

I'm anonymous.

Flamingo, and Owl

A bear and a hippopotamus walk into a bar

Where

An alligator and octopus

Are serving up

Adios Motherfuckers;

They all have guns–

I'm just starting to feel so anthrapamorphic

(whatever the word is)

Imagine the animals,

Acting as humans

“Pull The Plug”

Like it's some dirty bath water
I wanted out of this body

I don't know how you got here, but just

Throw back a beer

And remember the plan

I'll never be happy

With all that brain damage.

So just do it.

I can't.

Pull the plug, Sonny.

I can't; you're my biggest fan.

That moment has quite literally passed.

Out, like a lamp.

After all that.

Wanted it, needed it

Needed it—

Got it

Wanted it, needed it

Needed it—

Got it

Wanted it, needed it

Needed it—

Got it

Wanted it, needed it

Needed it—

Got it

Got it

I got it

Got it

I got it

Got it

I got it

Got it

I got it

Wanted it, needed it

Needed it—

Got it

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

Look, demons aren't scary to me, nor can they really hurt me—or anyone really, besides the person they're residing in.

To be honest, I find them more irritating—stupid, really. They're dumb and typically reside in lower-thinking beings, or worse, unthinking creatures—

I'm not perfect, but I don't want your lack of judgement in my peripheral vision, or anywhere around me.

You see, demons can only enter and affect the weak and feeble—those who have taken such careless damage to one's own self and one's own body so knowingly that a creature whom itself has no moral or conscious has bonded itself to you.

At a certain point. I realized that these things were trying to get my attention—

Perhaps, even, I became aware of it, this vibration elevated so slightly enough that it began trying to communicate something to me—maybe something I needed to see, and it became more so apparent at how willing so many are quick In this life to discard their bodies not for their self interest or simply in pleasure but because of the expectations of society—or, perhaps, just the lack of consciousness which discerns one thing from another.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

I prefer this bench

I prefer

No pictures miss

Ear buds— we're friends

Show no tears

I throw yours in the trash

Keep tryna catch me,

Gonna catch hands

Welcome to Hell's Kitchen

Plenty to eat here

Come take a seat here

— white girl be putting their legs up

That's how you know that they scared of us.

Took all the property, now they want world words

I don't fight for nothing and nobody

What

Find me in the jungle

What.

Working on the wrong one

What now you see double

Now you're into trouble with the bubble butt

What

I don't want what you want

Cause he can't get me off

What

All you want is control

And you got it

But look what the world is like

Now you're responsible

Wanna play God got the darker ones working

What comes up must come down

Now it's starting all over, watch

I'll take a look at your stomach

After you put some kids out

What

I done my job,

This is just warming up

What

The devil does follow me

So I must be a God

But you're not a goddess

You're just making problems

You wanted a war

You start

But I'll finish it

Watch

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

RIP My Brain.

You know what! I was wrong. This man, is, in fact, a father.

Wait, he is?

DEADMAU5

*shakes head ‘no'

DEADMAU5's 9 eotheopian children look nothing like him/-except for

Cut to:

He goes by the name of SPYDER

Really. Spider?

SPYDER is a self taught high-level programmer and hacker who has built himself into a fortress.—an absolute feat of technology— in a remote suburb of the bustling metropolitan African city.

I've never been to Africa.

I beg to differ.

Ugh.

Huh.

SPYDER, apart from his other siblings, looks exactly like his father, despite being half eithiopian.

This is racist.

It—just—

IVE NEVER BEEN TO AFRICA.

I wonder why.

——-

The Hollywood people:

In a nondescript writer's room,' CC' meets with some Hollywood people—to be specific and exact—a room full of white dudes in suits, two white women, a redhead (not gender specific or conforming) one black man, and an Asian woman—probably Japanese or Korean)

Of course, a very standard looking white man sits at the he's of the table as leader of the conference—in fact—this man could be Dillon Francis, or perhaps even his duplicate—but you get it, right?

It's classic Hollywood.

After forcibly intercepting her emails, text messages and calls via THE ILLUMINATI, the Hollywood people have technologically cornered CC into completing the remainder of The Festival Project.

‘CC' appears forcibly via video on a large projector—

Hollywood People! What's up! You hacked my life—again.

It's amazing how evasive you are when it comes to deadlines.

It is amazing. That this exists, at all.

You're like the new Dan Harmon.

…don't say that.

You are though.

You're—a lot a alike.

Has anyone ever compared you to Dan Harmon?

Uh, he comes up a lot.

That's not surprising.

You're a lot a like.

(Everyone agrees entirely.)

Should I go ride his dick then, so I can get an actual job in this field?

Is that what you want?!

No! I want to get a job based on my talent and merit!

(The room erupts into Hollywood Laughter)

____

Jimmy Fallon Lifeswitch

Jimmy Fallon is at the laundromat for the first time, after being switched into a reality of extreme poverty

Oh.

——-

(Being trained by Jennifer Anniston and Madonna)

Come on! We're on a time crunch!

What's that mean!

Time for crunches!

I honk Madonna runs on love

I get halfway up, then I stop

Later, I'm gonna be hungry

Gotta wonder what I'm gonna eat

I gotta stop

K

He spends his last dollar drying his clothes.

Lil bitz

I know anime is a big thing—

It's a big thing—for little kids.

So if I see you with some like, Naruto shit on

Or liked a dragon ball z backpack

I don't give a fuck how cute you are

Or if you're like 45 years old,

I'm gonna assume you're a fucking toddler,

Laugh, roll my eyes and move on. lol

You fucking kiddos!

Unpopular opinions. ‍♀️

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

Look, demons aren't scary to me, nor can they really hurt me—or anyone really, besides the person they're residing in.

To be honest, I find them more irritating—stupid, really. They're dumb and typically reside in lower-thinking beings, or worse, unthinking creatures—

I'm not perfect, but I don't want your lack of judgement in my peripheral vision, or anywhere around me.

You see, demons can only enter and affect the weak and feeble—those who have taken such careless damage to one's own self and one's own body so knowingly that a creature whom itself has no moral or conscious has bonded itself to you.

At a certain point. I realized that these things were trying to get my attention—

Perhaps, Eve. I became aware of it, this vibration elevated so slightly enough that it began trying to communicate something to me—maybe something I needed to see, and it became more so apparent at how willing so many are quick In this life to discard their bodies not for their self interest or simply in pleasure but because of the expectations of society—or, perhaps, just the lack of consciousness which dicerns one thing from another.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

@hoe-math

Here's to Standford:

The kids with connections

Collected inffference

and sexual negligence

Twisting into depression

Alarming, but expected

To exceeding expectation

Degrading expressions

Undressed just to get back to bed

On with dinner,

Which doubles as breakfast

“Parallel Algorithms”

BLŪ : @CODENAMEBLU is watching EAGLE EYE over an intensely large burrito.

…graduated with a degree i parallel algorithms and quantum electronics.

Wait. Pause.

:||pause.

ooh.

He just said.

(I n SyNEthETHICS)

P A R A L L E L A L G O R I T H M S.

…

“Parallel Algorithms…”

…deadmau5.

This is not a coincidence.

Could be a stretch. Haven't slept in awhile–

God, I needed to eat.

Finish writing this.

It's really hard with a burrito in my hand.

I just watched you inhale a giant brurito.

Google, Define Parallel Algorithms.

Tell me why all I see is math.

Cause it's math.

You're right.

In computer science, a parallel algorithm, as opposed to a traditional serial algorithm, is an algorithm which can do multiple operations in a given time. It has been a tradition of computer science to describe serial algorithms in abstract machine models, often the one known as random-access machine.

Random Access…

I got it.

[Random Access Memories]

You're not wrong.

Yeah, but I don't know what to do with being right.

Finally. God damn.

I cannot possibly have invented time travel.

I told you.

I don't even believe in time.

We're making connections.

I'm going braindead

I'm going deaf.

Well, that's tragic

Look, I just need you to unlock this one , key component, okay?

I don't understand.

You do understand.

No, I don't understand, why I understand.

His music is math.

Precise.

My senesthesia has the tendency to cause problems beyond not only that of my own comprehension, but apparently the entir human specie's comprehension, of consciousness and in and of existence in itself.

That's not possible.

It is possible. Here's the science:

Oh, so this is beyond–

Beyond.

Look, if I could tell you what deadmau5 looks like without giving myself an aneurysm

PREVIOUSLY, AT DEADMAU5.

Oh, time travel.

You got it?

I can only like, 9th grade math, dude.

You got this.

…I do not got this.

You got this.

I DO NOT, GOT THIS.

MEANWHILE, IN MEXICO

Wtf is that dude.

What are examples of parallel algorithm.

…deadmau5.

Get off my dick.

look . i didn't mean for it to turn out this way, but there's some pretty cool shit in here.

I know . I put it there

Please, someone tell me how i'm supposed to be studying a feild of science that is nonexistent.

It is existent.

Scientifically.

It is–scientifically existent.

As a course of study.

—That's where you come in.

What. That's where I what.

And there it was; it was devastating, and horrible–the feeling of knowing I had indeed made a connection to something, and as to exactly what could be so horribly beyond me; It was like having a ghost as a friend–worse than imaginary— and as I had already been recently haunted by Aliocha, and his already somewhat- secondary existence, my deadmau5 security blanket was no longer so much a comfort as is was an obligation or nessecity, and— less of an obsession as to know anything more about the actual human than I already had–I simply couldn't be that kind of fan, (or at least thought ,anyway). The intimacy with the music itself had succumbed into a sufferable obession of sorts–more needing it and wanting it all the more just to focus, calm, or relax , even perhaps using it to coax myself out of body— even if just for the time being, to escape the current reality. Now, it wasn't so much of an escape as it was a step back, whereas within the confines of what I had so called ‘the deadmau5 construct', I could look from outside of myself with such depth that it became almost secondary to make the connections which were needed and unseen from a perspective of being so within myself that the without had been nearly forgotten; It was as if at will, I could travel to a parallel dimension above or beside my own to navigate and my very own ompipotence.

‘man ‘, I thought to myself, “i might never see you guys again'

Perhaps I meant it just as a fan, but the world as it was seemed so much further away from deadmau5 or Joel, Sonny or Dillon than it had ever been–The Festival Project included, and rather than sinkinking into a deep depression over whether or not I was accomplished, I had now plummeted into over drive; 48-hour insomniatic work days which would run into the night, and then the next day–never ceasing for a moment or considering giving up what I had felt I had earned–the right to not give so much of a fuck about what society expected of me as anyone besides the person who would, eventually, see an end to this project; I had finally realized that, if I completed my project or at least organized it enough so that it was palatable, in the right hands, The Festival Project was pure gold, There was nothing like it in the world, and if I didn't find a way to make it come to fruition, it would die with, or even before I did.

‘Fuck, I'm so tired. ‘

For the first time in what seemed like forever, I was actually a little lonely—certainly sad, and very, very tired. It seemed that last two days had never even stopped, only run into eachother, an now was another on fast approach–soon, another orange east coast sunrise would glimmer of of the unattainably shiny facades of Manhattan; the unbeatable view from my 8th story , I had recently realized , would not be possible at all living in the city itself.

The truth of the matter was, I lived no where–and until I fgured a way to sort my finances out without running myself into the ground, it felt most times like I wasn't living at all, of course–and the further and further I drifted from my original intentions–settling upon how absurd it would be to actually try to be a superstar DJ–the more the reality set in that the music itself was taking me further than I had ever seen, or had certainly dreamed, and though still just a msilly and obsessive fan girl of sorts–the shapes and colors that presented as such time and time again began to allude to something more important entirely–time itself–something it seemed the whole species couldn't seem to wrap itself around, however–I had been in and out of body through time and space for years now with my ghosts, superstar djs, lovers, and imaginary friends–and it seemed altogether the conscious and waking world was nothing but a displayed illusion of sorts , becoming less concrete with every waking moment–more alogorithmic with every glitch, and more untimely with every moment passing as so–as time began to run rampant and unravel ever so eloquently within the frequencies and functions of my cosmic security blanket; I knew that whatever it was, it had been intended for me in my own existence–for without it, I would not be so myself- I was the music.

This needs editing.

I'm too tired.

Why is the font bigger?

…

…

….Deadmau5.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©