[ENTER THE MULTIVERSE]

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.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

555-420-555-420

coughing - return to sender

stop following me

My estranged Ex Husband, Starr Michael Roberts verbally agreed upon our separation and imminent divorce that due to the nature of my departure, which was several accounts of domestic abuse, physical violence, and aberrant alcoholism, not to pursue any financial compensation or collect child support on the grounds that the essential need for our separation and cause of my departure was not negligence or abandonment, however, recovery and stabilization after our relationship ceased on 01/01/2017; He at the time also agreed to undergo care and treatment for his own deteriorated health, mental health, and drug/alcohol addiction, as well as anger management, to which it is unknown that he did seek treatment as stated. He was supposed to have been sober upon my departure in 2019, Howevers admitted that in 2023, He was sending our son to my mother for a fourth time (four times in four years), and that his alcoholism had again “ruined a lot of things”, and that he was seeking sobriety and treatment. Again, he was supposed to have been sober in 2019, when I departed, and was forced to leave my minor son in his custody after a physical altercation which was documented by the fairbanks police department, in which he took my house key, separated it from my car key, carved a mark into the side of my face, and threw me (physically) from the apartment, keeping my house key and locking my son and himself inside, then disappearing with my son for a short time, as I retreated to the women's shelter, and later to the hospital, where they recorded the injuries to my face, and evident marks and bruises due to strangulation, plus some other minor injuries from the assault, as described further below.

Our final separation began after a physical assault (documented by the fairbanks police department, a case which did not continue to court because of my estranged Ex-husband's disappearance with our then two-year-old child— with the concern that my ex husband may have fled with our child under impending arrest for l domestic charges, of which the injuries and concurrent mental health impact I sustained due to the ongoing violence, negligence, and infidelity within the home we shared during my work hours, lead to hospitalization and investigation by the Fairbanks Police department; While at the hospital, I agreed to not press charges, as I was informed by the officers that because I was in the hospital, my son would go into protective custody; I agreed not to press charges so long as my child was found to be safe.

The case was later closed due to inactivity, as due to further exacerbation of the abuse and harassment I continued to face in fairbanks after my hospitalization, which included stalking and multiple attempts and multiple threats on my life, attacks by alleged members of my ex husband's self-stated “criminal organization, which would have me killed and buried in the woods where no one would find me” He claimed that he belonged to a gang previously, but had never mentioned specifically “an organization” before, and has denied stating this since.

I then quickly acquired a transfer through the corporation at which I was employed at the time, The Geo Group, as a Security Management Supervisor, to flee Fairbanks in fear of continued harassment and further attacks on my psyche, well being, and peace of mind. After relocating to Los Angeles with less savings than expected, before departing Fairbanks, my ex-husband had stolen a substantial amount of my cash savings, which was hidden in the residence; money that I was reluctant to keep in the bank, because he had a pattern and habit from stealing from my debit card account, using the ATM to make transactions or using as a credit to make purchase, after I had changed my pin— he would take large withdrawals or even spend extravagantly on food, clothes for himself, and video games.

After a turbulent transition into Los Angeles, I struggled heavily, having abandoned a recently purchased vehicle that I intended to take to California, which was consequently repossessed due to my abandonment, was unable to secure a necessary second income; Having the eviction on my record from the apartment we shared during the time of the first violent domestic incident (2017) occurred, after which due as a direct result to the injuries I sustained during the brutal incident, which occurred in front of our then-two young infant sons—in which my ex husband, retreating from calling me a slew of malicious obscenities, then protested my reaction by flinging our then-nearly 2-month-old son onto the couch (he threw the infant, swaddled, onto the sofa) and proceeding to ‘lose himself' in a fit of rage, pinning me down, choking me by holding me by the neck, and punching me repeatedly, (about four of five times, drawing back each time while continuing to hold me by my neck, choking me) until he seemed to realize that I had or had nearly lost conciousness and could no longer scream, speak, or breathe– then letting me go—to which, upon having my neck released from his grip, I was able to stand up, however unrealizing how disoriented I was, quickly fell back down, smearing blood against the hallway walls–at this point realizing that I was bleeding heavily, collecting in a pool on the floor and having smeared against the wall and into my hands as I held them to my face, in an attempt to control the blood from pouring out– I became more shocked and scared, retreating at that point into the furthest corner of the apartment, the back bedroom–my ex husband chasing after me, attempting to keep me from the bedroom, which I ran into, attempting to close the door as he forcefully attempted to get in, pushing my body weight against the door and leaving more smears of bloody handprints on the door, and the walls surrounding the door, pleading with him to leave me alone—

Meanwhile, our two young sons were unattended in the other room.

As he persisted to apologize, he then started to ask repeatedly as to whether or not I would call the police, then springing into a rant about leaving, saying he was going to kill himself—stating “my mother told me to never hit a woman” (paraphrasing) “I'm going to kill myself”, then leaving the apartment, not returning for a number of hours. As I cleaned the bloody mess from the apartment, looking after our young sons, I urged him repeatedly through text not to commit suicide, and not to leave our two young sons without a father; once he was assured that I would not call the police, he returned to the apartment, and I proceeded to go to work, unrealizing perhaps how swollen and damaged my face was, before looking into a mirror—arriving at work, and taking photos of my injuries, sending them to my best friend, before deleting them, as my ex husband had in the previous months developed a habit of going through my phone; I did not report the incident to the police, however, my employer at the time took note of my injuries, and though she seemed eager to know what had happened, in fear, I relayed her procurements; as she left for the evening, leaving me with my duties, I found myself unable to preform even the simplest tasks, leaving work earlier than usual after abandoning my post, and being quickly apprehended and dismissed the next day.

Having depended on this income, we quickly were burdened with the inability to pay the rent, and were subsequently evicted; it was due to this that upon leaving alaska, I could not arrange to lease my own apartment, and upon asking for help relinquishing the debt so that I could rent, I was told to pay for it myself; in the following years I rented rooms, worked in hostels, stayed with friends under the mercy of their charity or for exchange of cleaning/organizing slept in tents, at campgrounds, and eventually, even, in the back of my car, during which time I attempted to remain in steady contact with my son, however, mostly being ignored, sometimes for even days or weeks at a time—and though I had originally intended to take my son with me– the final physical attack (2019) by my ex husband prevented me from doing so, as he had physically, after strangling me, picked me up, using my house key to draw into my face after prying it out of my hands, and separating it from my car key—-carving intently into my face; then picking me up fully from the ground, and ejecting me from the household, without my glasses or my phone, tossing me out onto the portch (In Alaska, at the beginning of Autumn, where though snow had not yet fallen, the chill of winter had already begun) with no coat, no proper clothes, and only my car key, locking me out of the apartment. Upon arriving at the women's shelter, I was told that I should report to the hospital to document my injuries and call the police to collect my son, who could stay with me at the shelter. Upon doing so, I was informed that my husband and son could not be found, and that if I wished to press charges my son would go into protective custody, as I was under observation in the hospital and there was no other responsible party to care for him; I then agreed to not press charges so long as my son was found to be safe, which he was after some time.

Between this time and the time that I was able to leave Fairbanks, the abuse and violence continued in attempts to use my deteriorating mental state, a direct effect of the trauma I had endured over the months and years that our relationship had grown violent, stemming from a discovery of the multiple accounts of infidelity and leading into a series of increasingly violent altercations due to my depression as a result of this discovery, my mental health was used to repeatedly attack and disarm me, inaccurately labeling me by my estranged ex husband as an unfit mother; though I had from the beginning had every intention of remaining my son's primary custodial guardian, at first verbally agreeing that I would keep our son 70% of the time, (School Days, Monday-Friday) with the other 30% belonging to my ex husband, including some breaks, weekends, and Holidays— we both agreed at the time, that it would be better for me, the more organized, capable, and energetic parent to have our son during the school week (Monday-Friday), and that my ex husband would take our son on weekends, some holidays, and school breaks;

It was agreed from the beginning that neither of us would seek any financial compensation for the caretaking and responsibility of our son; and that for no reason should we seek financial support or obligation from one another.

Though I had put it in writing before my departure, my ex husband had refused to sign the paperwork, before intentionally attempting to disable my personal, professional, and social reputation by manipulating traumatic events, such as masturbating in front of our son openly, watching pornography in front of our son (then two years old), disappearing for long periods of time and leaving our son completely alone, stealing from pools of money I had collected and saved in order to amicably separate and move (first attempting to move across town into my own apartment in Fairbanks so that we could co-parent, after which the attacks became frequent and incessant, manipulating events such as moving my belongings around, allowing other women to wear and take my clothes and personal belongings; in some cases women would leave her personal belongings in our then-shared space, disorganizing my personal effects while I was away at work, and a multitude of other low-brow manipulation in order to force me to cease the attempts to amicably separate, divorce, or care for my child. I had at first wanted only move across town, and not across the country, and though the time alone has given me the time to recuperate and grow by means of a career in entertainment, I have suffered far more greatly in the loss of family, companionship, love, and otherwise; I have not enjoyed any of this time, as my ex has proclaimed, but have spent a greater part of the last four years suffering, using music and physical activity as a means of therapy and coping with all of these great losses.

In the years since our separation, estrangement, and imminent divorce, my ex husband has multiple times been unable to properly care for our son, which has resulted in the multiple prolonged arrangements to relay my son's care into the custody of my mother—on three separate occasions since my departure, my son has spent months in the care of my mother, from which I have been able to second-handedly care for my son, providing her with support, care packages, and considerable communication; my mother, Shawn Sharee Hotch, has taken immaculate care of my son in the wake of my ex hausband's inability to, which of course attributed to my own inability due to other extrenuating circumstances as outlined in this letter or otherwise; his time with my mother has always been prolonged, long term custody arrangements, in which my ex husband neither contributed financially or otherwise; in the care of my mother, it was discovered that Bearr was behind on medical obligations, missing shots, and was often sick due to hygiene and nutritional deficits—in the care of my ex husband, he had grown to be morbidly obese, and, has several timers stated in his own way his father's incompetence and repetitive neglectful behavior, admitting that he has oftentimes gotten into trouble because his father simply wouldn't wake up—.his troublesome sleeping habits also a factor in our older son's untimely death, my ex husband often failing to wake up to alarms or multiple attempts of waking by others or outside forces.

It is to this effect, the multiple inconsistencies, ongoing neglect (for months and weeks not being able to contact or communicate with my son, only being able to freely and openly communicate with him when he is in the custody of my mother, at which I have supported her greatly over the years) that I do not owe child support to my ex, or owe repayment of the outstanding balances that are reflected in the procurement of my income now, or any further income, furthermore, as I continue on the path to recovery and wellness, having overcome undeniable hardships and adversity, I wish to pursue the entirety of my rights and responsibilities as a parent, not allocating any financial compensation to my abuser, however relinquishing the need to child support on anyone's behalf, besides my mother; I do not feel that under any circumstances that my ex husband should be soully responsible for our son, nor do I feel he can be trusted or responsible for unsupervised custodial responsibility, believing that due to his violence, alcoholism, and sleeping issues he should be at all times supervised by a ward of the state or child protective services in Bearr's best interest, and do feel that the violence and custodial obligations should be further investigated by the district attorney of the state of alaska, or wherever our discovery case should presume, in that nature, in order to protect my own safety, after multiple attempts and attacks on my life and my oiflvelihood, inclclusing stalking and death threats, that the new identity, which I was forced to take after being stalked online by my ex husband m long after my departure,which limited my ability to manuver as a musician and artist, that my new identity be kept private, and that the remainder of our divorce proceed on the grounds of complete anonymity, for my own protection and the sake of my career and well being, as I feel it is unsafe and unwise for my ex husband to know my new name, my current occupation(s), or my whereabouts, since our son has for the majority of the year been in the custody of my mother's care, during which time I have provided support and an open line of communication; I request that any outstanding balances, if concluded to still be considered “owed”be allocated to my mother, as she has had Bearr in her custody numerous times over years since our separation for extended periods of time. I believe that my ex husband actually owes support to my mother for the time our son has spent in his care; compensation for medical, nutrition, and hygiene, as well as clothes and school supplies, as my son completed kindergarten and continued into the first grade while in her care during which time she had provided her time and dedication to his well-being.

I am requesting upon receipt of this document the discontinuance of any collection or procurement of financial gains for the repayment of child support until our divorce is finalized and a court ordered custody agreement is settled upon; as I have in this turbulent time of transition been greatly financially disadvantaged, with a great deal of my income, taxes, and all of my pandemic relief being collected and paid to child support, to which my ex husband has still allocated the care and responsibility for our son to my own family, to whom I have supported both financially and otherwise, sending care packages and otherwise showing mh capability and intent to my parental rights and responsibilities tk the best of my abilities. Any outstanding balance should be relayed to my mother, and I am requesting that all payments cease until the divorce is final and a custody arrangement is agreed upon.

Please note that during the time which it has been stated or determined as a preliminary judgment that I owe child support, I was not allowed to speak with or communicate with my child by his father, who for months did not answer calls, only ever briefly responded to texts, and intercepted contact between myself and my child for weeks and months at a time, between 2020 and the present time, October 2023.

Also note that during this time, a time of recovery from the outright violence and emotional abuse by my estranged ex, my estranged ex husband, Starr Michael Roberts knowingly and intentionally contributed to my continued homelessness, by refusing to help or pay half or even contribute to any of what was owed to a previous residence– the residence at which the first account of domestic violence and abuse took place, intentionally keeping me from being able to rent an apartment due to the shared eviction on my credit/background, while he was only abe to rent an apartment in Fairbanks, Alaska due to nepotism and “family connections”— He did this purposely as a targeted attack on my livlihood in retalation for my decision to permanently sever our relationship, with the understanding that this homelessness made it more difficult, and at times impossible to arrange to have my son Bearr with me so that we could share custody; the The obvious ntentions of his father [my estranged ex husband] was to keep him away from me as long as possible, and to sever our familiarity with one another–suggested that I should pay off the eviction myself and refused to help– though he was the soul reason for the eviction from the apartment, having contributed directly to the loss of my job and directly to the mental degradation and dysfunctionality thereafter as a direct result of the physical and mental injuries and trauma sustained during the first violent physical domestic abuse altercation; he refused to help pay to remove the eviction after first agreeing to help pay, or “pay it off when he got his taxes” He then reneged this, understanding the benefit of my absence was receiving a part of my income as child support, even after stating he “didn't need it” and that he was “making good money.” He seemed to thoroughly enjoy that I was in hardship and consistently homeless since my departure from Alaska; He literally laughed, knowing that the reason I was unable to secure an apartment and share custody was due to this eviction.

At an extreme disadvantage, due to paying extraneous costs to continue working, often paying for hotels, air bnb, and hostels in the time since my departure from the abusive relationship, I was unable to remove the eviction myself—which with the court fees had nearly doubled its original balance, and had fallen into collections–however, I was at times working two full time jobs, or more typically, or one full time job and one part time job throughout the duration of our separation; sleeping on friend's couches, in a tent in state parks, in hostels, hotels, or air bnb's, or even for brief periods, in the back of my car–however, during the pandemic, the gyms (at which I would shower daily) closed, and I was unable to even obtain proper hygiene, which prompted me to take all I had earned and collected, and attempt to move somewhere more affordable, where I would be able to have time with my son; I settled at this point in coastal mexico, where I began DJing professionally, however, returning to the United States to work after nearly a year, at which point, again, due to this eviction, I became homeless. Though I have worked continually full and part time jobs since my return to the United states, I have still been yet to secure my own apartment, however–and am still technically homeless, having taken shelter in a women's facility, successfully changing my name and gender identity with the hopes that my estranged abuser does not continue to harass and stalk me– it was stated after a period of time living with a friend in Boston Massachusetts, that the reason I wasn't allowed to speak to my son was because my estranged ex-husband had seen a video posted to my YouTube account under the name which I had used at the time to pursue music (Sunni Blu), and after months of calling to no answer, after which I was made to fear that something was wrong, panicking and worrying for the safety of my child–my estranged ex-husband finally picked up, asking “Are you Sunni Blu?” Explaining that he had seen one of my videos, in which my male (platonic) friend appeared as a character in my ongoing series and concurrent podcast; I have since stopped making music under this moniker, after he told me that someone had showed him this video, and have presumed making music under other multiple aliases as not to continue to be stalked, tracked, or followed by he or anyone associated with him online; I have deactivated all social media accounts belonging to my previous namesake and identity, and am therefore extremely cautious about sharing my true legal name and whereabouts as I navigate my career and personal life–I have made numerous efforts to disconnect myself from my estranged and abusive ex, who has seemed to have taken ‘revenge' tactics against my wellness, wellbeing, and safety, first stating that he was ‘summoning demons' and using ‘Shamanic Magick”, which he later denied and claims he did not state–however, during multiple times over the course of the end of our relationship, he stated that I was under “control”, that he “belonged to a powerful organization that would have me killed and bury me in the woods where no one would find me”, and that I was “crazy”.

After years of what seemed endless struggle, torture, and ridicule–the inability to rent an apartment leaving my life in dysfunctional shambles, I pleaded with my estranged abuser to file for divorce, which has me appearing as the defendant, however—this is only due to the fact that I was often homeless, living in my car, sleeping on friend's floors and couches, or paying outrageous prices and tourism taxes for hostels, hotels, and airbnb, to which, combined with the amount of child support I have already paid my abuser, has taken a majority of my earned and documented income over the past 4 years.

Again, during this time I have been almost barred from my child's life when he is in the custody and ‘care' of his father, as he deliberately refuses to answer calls for weeks and months at a time over the last four years, since late 2019/Early 2020. He has forced me to worry, panic, and rile in concern and uncertainty–I have since learned to cope with the grief of becoming estranged from my son, not by choice, but by force.

Starr Michael Roberts has agreed to dismiss the pursual of child support or any monetary compensation for the responsibility of Bearr Michael Rainn, currently residing in the full custody of my mother, Shawn Sharee Hotch, as he (supposedly, as stated) seeks treatment for anger management, and drug and alcohol abuse, which has since lead to the abuse and neglect of our son, Bearr Michael Rainn, leading to his placement in the custody of my Mother, Shawn Sharee Hotch in Las Vegas Nevada, where Bearr resides and attends school currently.

Due to stalking, death threats, and ongoing mental and emotional abuse from Starr Michael Roberts, I have relocated, remaining in anonymity and seek to dissolve our marriage as quickly as possible so that I can move forward in continuing to pursue a career in entertainment, to gain financial independence with which I will be able to further protect myself, and recover lost time with my son.

Starr Michae Roberts has verbally agreed that in the event of his sobriety and anger management treatment that if Bearr Michael Rainn is to be returned to his custody, that he shall presume 100% of the financial responsibilities;

After becoming estranged from my abusive ex husband and son, I have been under extreme pressure to overcome homelessness, poverty, and debt with the crippling post traumatic stress and anguish caused by my abuser, Starr Michael Roberts, during our marriage— the physical effects of the violence against me are permanent; a raised scar where my teeth once protruded through my bottom lip, and an eye-shaped scar on the right side of my face are currently present, as documented by the Fairbanks Police Department and Fairbanks Memorial Hospital.

His violence and abuse of drugs and alcohol lead to my homelessness starting in 2019 and ending in 2023; Bearr Michael Roberts currently resides with my mother in Las Vegas Nevada, where she will confirm I am in direct contact with her and Bearr and have shown numerous supportive efforts as I continue to rehabilitate my life and move forward.

My estranged ex is the definition of toxicity; he exhibits a range of behaviors ranging from hygienic neglect, to emotionally abusive inclinations, such as (but not limited to) acute narcissism and verbal assault, psychological, emotional, and sometimes brutal physical torture.

Over the course of our 8 year relationship, my ex's behavior escalated increasingly—albeit due to various environmental factors, however broadly exacerbated by the conditions of his admittedly continuous adultery and inability to control impulses.

He admitted to openly courting, flirting with, talking to or even dating “hundreds of women” from the beginning of our relationship, to our initial separation in 2017; We then for the sake of our child[ren] reconciled our relationship shortly, ending it indefinitely in May of 2019. After a short lived stay at a women's shelter in fairbanks, alaska, I moved to a private residence, at which I continued to receive death threats and harassment from my now estranged ex husband. He stated several times that he “belonged to an organization [who will] kill you and bury you in the woods where no one will ever find you”.

After receiving the incident report from the final domestic incident between my estranged ex-husband, and I, I am now reiterating with detail, the assault committed against me, in front of my infant son, who now resides with his father, though he should not.

Though I had been arranging, saving, and packing to move for quite some time. ‘My efforts were repeatedly restricted, as my then-husband became outwardly envious of my ability to plan, save, and organize to move away from him entirely. I successfully secured a second job to supplement enough income to move independently from him; however, became increasingly frustrated at the several instances of theft, both in cash I had hidden—and from my debit card, which he would take while I was sleeping between jobs to spend frivolously, on numerous occasions.

I had begun to apply for apartments, and purchased my own vehicle, which angered him deeply. He made numerous dents, scratches, and other cosmetic damage to my vehicle, by parking closely next to mine—then opening the door with extreme force to cause damage. The vehicle was eventually abandoned as I departed fairbanks.

I openly communicated my plans to divorce him, agreeing to 70/30 custody; I would spend the week with my son, and he, the weekends. He agreed to this, and as I wished to remain cordial, be became inscreasingly agitated for the remainder of time I spent in the home.

He began to play psychological games of mainipulation, such as abruptly slamming doors, cabinets, or throwing objects while I attempted to sleep between jobs; among the most prominent and troubling instances, his continuous neglect of our child resulted in a daily struggle of constant panic, fear, stress, and discomfort.

Upon waking randomly one afternoon between shifts at North Star Center, I entered the living room to observe my ex on the couch openly masturbsting in front of our son, then two years old; my son, though not facing his father was also not entirely facing the television, but rather sideways; enough so that he could clearly see me enter the room, looking up at me—his father, watching pornography on his mobile phone, hurriedly tried to cover himself, as if I had not seen what had occurred.

I do not believe this to be the first or last instance if this, as his babysitter at the time alerted me on multiple occasions that my son was touching himself inappropriately while in her care.

I began to work more diligently towards independence and total separation, agreeing to still allow our son to be cared for at all by my ex husband, so long as he agreed to attend Alcoholics Anonymous, anger management, and therapy. He agreed, but never actually obliged in any self help or behavioral health, as he believes his actions, words, and behaviors to be fine—taking no blame or responsibility for his neglect, damage, and abuse as a father figure, or husband.

Though our relationship always showed signs of emotional and psychological abuse from my ex—abuse which I could not see at the time as behavior out of the ordinary for married couples, until later exiting the relationship and reviewing what is to be considered abusive, manipulative, or dangerous behaviors by several professionals and immense research, undergoing recovery from the mental and psychological anguish endured over the course of our marriage. Though it is documented through medical records that I have in the past exhibited signs of several mental illness, my records will indicate, along with testimonies and statement from 5 witnesses that i had absolutely no hospitalizations for mental health issues or “serious episodes” before the first occurrence of serious physical violence, in spring of 2017–an incident never reported to law enforcement, as a resuming combination of fear, judgment, lack of support for my then two young children, in front of which the incident occurred.

In the early spring of 2017, as I rested between shifts, my ex husband, who had lost his job entered my bedroom [we were already separated at the time, due to the recent discovery of multiple counts of infidelity over the course of our entire relationship, including before, and after our marriage, during and between both pregnancies, “taking a break” from cheating for a “short time” in the weeks leading up to and following our wedding. He eventually admitted to talking to, courting, or flirting with “over 200 women”, using a cellular phone which was paid for by my family, whose records indicated multiple texts from unknown numbers; his internet history and email showed a pattern of talking to women through personal classified ads. He admitted to accepting random sexual favors from “random women”, and even later, paying for sex.

Although I had just fallen asleep, my ex insisted I help him with our sons before going back to work—I was still half asleep, but remember asking him to let me rest, as I only had a few hours before work. Angrily, he began to berate me—muttering fowl words about me, holding my nearly newborn son Bearr and calling me a “stupid fucking bitch”, before turning away—tired and frustrated, I tossed a small houseplant towards him, (not hitting him, but brushing his past him—which caused him to snap into an irate rage; he then threw my newborn son, wrapped in a swaddling blanket, onto the couch—

As he snapped, I turned to run, but he caught me, holding me down as he punched me in the face repeatedly, until suddenly stopping, seeming to “realize” what he had done. He became instantly not remorseful, but fearfully apologetic. Running away, I could not coordinate my movements and fell several times, as he chased me back into the bedroom; I was bleeding heavily and severely enough from several parts of my face (my upper lip, my bottom lip, and my nose) that I left several splashes, spatters, pools, and smears of blood on the carpet, walls, baseboards, doorknob, doorframe, and door; I tried to shut myself into the bedroom, but he overpowered me enough to get though the door. He apologized profusely and asked me repeatedly not to call the police, not to report him. I could not stop from crying, and dropped globs of blood from my wonder mouth and nose.

He then threatened to commit suicide and stormed out of the apartment, not returning for hours. I stayed, caring for our two young sons, one of whom is now deceased.

Though I did not report to law enforcement the incidents of that day, I sent photos of my swollen lips, jaw, blackened eyes and nose to two of my close friends, who I confided in.

Over the following days and weeks, I could not talk much, nor could I open my mouth to eat or drink. It was painful to open my eyes or move about regularly. I now accept fault for not reporting this to law enforcement, however, due to having two young children and absolutely no outside support at the time, had no means of improving immediately at that time, mainly due to financial constraints.

My first hospitalization for mental illness came not long after this first incident; the previous instances of slapping, choking, pushing or shoving during previous fights had not occurred to me as being “abusive”, but normal, until after having exited the relationship for some time.

Though we have remained separated since January of 2017, various attempts to reconcile for the sake of our children were made, however, the death of our eldest son in 2018 propelled our already chaotic marriage into more deeply troubling turbulence.

After the death of our son, my ex-husbands father offered him and my infant son a plane ticket up to Alaska; however, he did not have enough airline miles for a third ticket; —my ex-husband volunteered to “go first” to Alaska, to establish support for our remaining son, since he has family and friends in Fairbanks, having grown up in Alaska; I agreed and started seeking out work to move towards flying to Alaska; I took work in a Hostel in California, and returned to acting to provide income, however, did not make enough to return to Alaska on my own.

Due to a car accident during my time in California, my ability to work was significantly hindered; we briefly reconciled our relationship and I returned to Alaska in late 2018, securing a full time job by November of 2018 at North Star Center, where I eventually worked anywhere between 48 and 80 hours a week, often working 16 hour shifts multiple days in a row, or supplementary hours of overtime most days.

Between 2018 and 2019, After multiple days arriving home to hygienically unsound conditions due to my ex's inability to maintain cleanliness and order, as well as two separate instances of traveling home from work to get something, and discovering my ex husband to be gone, leaving our son sleeping (once, he was awake, and alone), which prevented me from returning to work, unknowing when he would return: On one occasion, he did not return to the apartment until moments before I would have been scheduled to return from work; Had I not returned home for my phone charger, our infant son would have been alone for hours by himself. I began to become concerned about my son's well-being.

We officially decided upon divorce, and I secured a second job at Good Cannabis (Fairbanks, Alaska) so that I could afford to move into my own apartment, across town.

Deciding on a two-bedroom apartment Sophie Suites, I began to select furniture to purchase so that my son could have his own bed (as we had all three shared the same bed in a one-bedroom apartment); and I looked forward to my son having his own room. I began buying him clothes, shoes, and toys specifically for my new home, also purchasing several plastic bins to organize the materials and supplies I began to select for the new home—this began the steady decline of my treatment as a human being by my ex, who began to act heinously; he allowed several women over to the house while I was working, some of whom found it okay to leave with some of my personal items, such as clothes, makeup, hair products, and some hygiene products. He left the apartment trashed, and refused to clean up after himself, or our son. I would return to the apartment between jobs to strange women in my home, the sink full of dirty dishes, trash everywhere–and my personal things rifled through.

Most days, upon returning from work, I would find him sleeping—the house in complete chaos, and our child, (then two years of age) awake, innocently playing as his father slept, sometimes into the early afternoon. By his diaper and appearance, it was clear to see that he had been awake for some time in the morning, and his father decidedly continued to sleep.

This pattern of behavior was exhibited numerous times throughout our marriage; he often was reprimanded at several of his jobs for tardiness or absence, due to his inability to wake up to multiple alarm clocks, or even being woken up several times by another individual (usually myself), however, after the subsequent eviction from our previous residence due to the physical domestic violence incident, oftentimes as I worked one job or another (again, holding two jobs), my parents would be tasked with waking him up; a process which could take an indeterminate amount of time, which, though holding no grudges and having given my forgiveness for any f these cruelties, I truly believe to have partially factored into our eldest son's death, as he slept while it occurred—however, according to my father, who was watching the boys at the time, he woke my ex husband up several times, to which my ex replied “I'm getting up”, but never did—as my father retreated to watch his regularly scheduled programming. My son (now six) also recounts often getting into trouble because “my dad wouldn't wake up' he has stated during video chats in his time in the custody of my mother that “one time he almost died”.

My estranged ex husband often used our son's death as an excuse to return to heavy drinking, still grieving, and mulling over the incident over and over. Our son (now six) tells stories of how his brother drowned, which indicates he himself may be in need of therapy. Although we had already shared in the loss of our eldest sons twin sister, he took the loss of our son harder; He is aware that he overslept as usual—as he showed obvious signs of turmoil regarding the issue, having a tendency to bring it up and refusing to seek treatment for the depression or anguish it caused.

He began to paint a picture to those involved (law enforcement, doctors, nurses) of me as “sick” and “mentally ill”, however my actions, feelings, and behaviors were a direct result of the neglect, abuse, and eventual torture he inflicted using cruel words , multiple times in front of our child, who began to, as he got older, step in to “protect me” when his father got violent; He was often present during these violent outbusts, however, as I attempted to remove him from the home, was denied access, and entered the battered women's shelter alone

In 2019, The final physical incident of abuse (as documented by the fairbanks police department) occurred in the early morning, as I attempted to re-gather all of the containers I had neatly organized and stacked, filling them with items purchased instances to stock my new home; after arriving home one day, I discover all of my newly purchased items to be rifled through, opened, missing, disheveled, and scattered among the apartment. Searching to find all my important items, I moved about the apartment quietly, as I had no intention of waking up either my ex husband, or my sleeping son. When I entered the bedroom, and looked about for an envelope I had placed a small sum of cash into, I saw that my ex had it tucked under his pillow—as I went to remove him, he immediately awoke, stating “what are you doing?” I demanded he give me my envelope—to which he refused we began arguing—he then took my keychain from me, prying it from my hands, taking off the house key, and carving into the side of my face. He then stated several times that he was “controlling demons”, and other salacious remarks which left permanent scars on my psyche and contributed further to my mental deterioration. I have since recovered, now understanding that the various mental health struggles that I was having were attributed directly to this abusive relationship; i now maintain an active lifestyle, which includes a clean raw and organic diet and also incorporates a daily gym regimen—this helps to offset the post traumatic stress disorder I have experienced, which includes but is not limited to the exacerbation of the multi-sensory perception disorder synesthesia and often presenting a misophonia due to the effects of post traumatic stress disorder (sensitivity to sounds), and an aversion to violence, such as the inability to watch certain programming which include heavy violence or fighting without the occurrence of flashbacks and induced panic attacks—the inability to watch or enjoy boxing or any other sport which might include punching, strangulation, etc. or any other sensitive subject matter.

555-420-555-420-555-420

fuck fame. I quit.

Sonny,

I gotta let you go buddy

I gotta let you know, honey

Skinny girls follow me around all day.

And I think of you

Petite, about 5'e

Two things I can't be

Light skinned makes three

Don't make me explain myself

I spend every day in hell

Still no kitchen

Still running to catch up with you—

But finally, I might get it

I can't;

Too many bad decisions,

It isn't meant to be

And if it was or is

You'd be here with me

So I let you go

Gotta let you go.

I'm a nobody

With no home

Probably all alone

For the long run

Don't worry

Ain't nobody

I gotta curse on me

That way,

Nobody loves me

I ain't picking up no pennies

No hope, cause I'm not skinny

Got loops, but no synth

Eye of Horus: been homeless since

Nobody loves me

Been homeless since

Nobody loves me

Been homeless since

A curse on me

I'm getting used to it

I'm getting used to being alone,

I like it, I promise

Don't love,

Cause then it ends

It is what it is

A genius mix

But missing the prescription

Read the description,

Or inscription on the Rolex

I'll probably still get him

And stick it inlocker 115 in the women's locker room

In Hell's Kitchen

I ain't picking up no pennies

No hope, cause I'm not skinny

Got loops, but no synth

Eye of Horus: been homeless since

My ex had put a curse on me

He carved the eye of Horus on me

With a house key

And I been homeless ever since

And demons follow me

So I guess it is what it is

Ain't nobody but God

Not forgotten,

But love is

I ain't picking up no pennies

No hope, cause I'm not skinny

Got loops, but no synth

Eye of Horus: been homeless since

Nobody loves me

Been homeless since

Nobody loves me

Been homeless since

A curse on me

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

I'll kill you in my sleep

You stupid bitch

You see me from behind

But I got eyes in the back of my head

Go back to bed, before I devastate you !

I hate you

You make me

Anxious—

If anything irate

Switch the cadence

Rain like precipitation

I feel great just for participating

Straight a's

‘Ugh, I have too much to do'

I needed a new pair of consumer headphones anyway to test my mixes and new tracks in, but I didn't think I would need them so much as put them on a low priority shopping list, or secondary wish list—but the time had come for otherwise, as though I would normally find something so unfortunate as leaving my only remaining pair of headphones on a bus which rotated out of service too quickly for me to have noticed that I had left the. Behind

Tell ‘em

20 at a time, till I get me a push

20 at a time, till I get me a Moog

20 at a time,

Can't burn no bush

20 at a time

Tell ‘em 20 at a time

She not even mine!

She lyin

Cone on mane,

I'm a lion

Motherfucker try me

Motherfucker try to speak

I got marks of beast

It's three on three

and we on pre war

Like history

Building be like 50 stories

I'm not sorry

Need more things;

I need more 20s

Tell ‘em

20 at a time, till I get me a whip

20 at a time, till I get me a coupe

20 at a time,

Can't burn no bush

20 at a time

Tell ‘em 20 at a time

Spend two hundred at **** on fitness

When I look like this already

Spend 350 at Equinox

Initiation.

Health is Wealth

It's all important

Shea Butter Imported

Intercontinental

Forged from Earth is mother

For four months worth

Is 20

[sample: pork soda]

20's 20's 20's!

Tell ‘em

20 at a time, till I get me some new shit

20 at a time, till I get me a Stu

20 at a time,

Can't burn no bush

20 at a time

Tell ‘em 20 at a time

Tell ‘em

20 at a time, till I get me a Push

20 at a time, till I get me a Moog

20 at a time,

Can't burn no bush

20 at a time

Tell ‘em 20 at a time

Dark—Shades

Gotta protect my eyes

Can't see your bullshit

The Devil outta hades

And he follow me

In the form of haters

No Brainers and

Whatever the fuck that thing is

(I hate her)

She a demon

But I made her up

Just to throw the flame at her

Imm famous

Look at my shades

Gotta hide my eyes

Look at my shades

Gotta hide my eyes

They got light in em

All I think about is getting fit

Doing dips and

Shitting on my competition.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

Live from Sleep Deprivation Central in Karma City, New York

Live from Sleep Deprivation Central in Karma City, New York

It adds up

‘Ugh, I have too much to do'

I needed a new pair of consumer headphones anyway to test my mixes and new tracks in, but I didn't think I would need them so much as put them on a low priority shopping list, or secondary wish list—but the time had come for otherwise, as though I would normally find something so unfortunate as leaving my only remaining pair of headphones on a bus which rotated out of service too quickly for me to have noticed that I had left the. Behind

Tell ‘em

20 at a time, till I get me a push

20 at a time, till I get me a Moog

20 at a time,

Can't burn no bush

20 at a time

Tell ‘em 20 at a time

She not even mine!

She lyin

Cone on mane,

I'm a lion

Motherfucker try me

Motherfucker try to speak

I got marks of beast

It's three on three

and we on pre war

Like history

Building be like 50 stories

I'm not sorry

Need more things;

I need more 20s

Tell ‘em

20 at a time, till I get me a whip

20 at a time, till I get me a coupe

20 at a time,

Can't burn no bush

20 at a time

Tell ‘em 20 at a time

Spend two hundred at **** on fitness

When I look like this already

Spend 350 at Equinox

Initiation.

Health is Wealth

It's all important

Shea Butter Imported

Intercontinental

Forged from Earth is mother

For four months worth

Is 20

[sample: pork soda]

20's 20's 20's!

Tell ‘em

20 at a time, till I get me some new shit

20 at a time, till I get me a Stu

20 at a time,

Can't burn no bush

20 at a time

Tell ‘em 20 at a time

Tell ‘em

20 at a time, till I get me a Push

20 at a time, till I get me a Moog

20 at a time,

Can't burn no bush

20 at a time

Tell ‘em 20 at a time

Dark—Shades

Gotta protect my eyes

Can't see your bullshit

The Devil outta hades

And he follow me

In the form of haters

No Brainers and

Whatever the fuck that thing is

(I hate her)

She a demon

But I made her up

Just to throw the flame at her

Imm famous

Look at my shades

Gotta hide my eyes

Look at my shades

Gotta hide my eyes

They got light in em

All I think about is getting fit

Doing dips and

Shitting on my competition.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

Complicated.

Season 8, Episode 1

“Letting Go”

A GURU watches intently as a small fire burns at the foot of a large tree on the outskirts of NEW YORK CITY.

MEANWHILE, SOMEWHER (who gives a fuck)

EXT. WHO GIVES A FUCK. NIGHT (OR WHENEVER, WHO CARES)

SKRILLEX is forced to stop his set due to a stage fire.

HOW'S THAT QUEST.

shut.up.

IRONY:

i·ro·ny1

/ˈīrənē/

noun

the expression of one's meaning by using language that normally signifies the opposite, typically for humorous or emphatic effect.
"“Don't go overboard with the gratitude,” he rejoined with heavy irony"

Similar:

sarcasm

sardonicism

dryness

causticity

sharpness

acerbity

acid

bitterness

trenchancy

mordancy

cynicism

mockery

satire

ridicule

derision

scorn

sneering

wryness

backhandedness

sarkiness

Opposite:

sincerity

a state of affairs or an event that seems deliberately contrary to what one expects and is often amusing as a result.
plural noun: ironies
"the irony is that I thought he could help me"

Similar:

paradox

paradoxical nature

incongruity

incongruousness

peculiarity

Opposite:

logic

a literary technique, originally used in Greek tragedy, by which the full significance of a character's words or actions are clear to the audience or reader although unknown to the character.
noun: dramatic irony; plural noun: tragic irony

BEFORE:

Unseen, Season 6

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

SKRILLEX

Well, I guess it's New York, then.

BROOKLYN, NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK.

ALSO SKRILLEX

No, wtf.

R A I N

Ugh.

VERY HEAVY RAIn

ihateu.

kbye.

Fukku.

i'm going on a(nother) world tour.

kool.

stay here tho.

alright.

*soaking wet*

*on tour being a rockstar surrounded by beautiful people*

…

! ! !

…

!!! !!! !!!

(with hot people)

*dies*

lol

…

…

…

deadmau5

…

*revives*

dgh.

*deadmau5*

…ok.

Deadmau5

Ok?

…ok.

*being a rockstar*

MEANWHRILE

FUCK THAT MOTHERFUCKER, I'M GONNA KILL THAT MOTHERFUCKER.

cant kill skrillex.

WANNA BET .

AND THE B.E.T AWARD GOES TO:

This duel makes the

AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

AHHHHHHHHh

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

DILLON FRANCIS.

Thatsfuckedup

IT's not real.

This can't be happening.

*entire audience booing, throwing ribs & buckets of chicken*

DILLON FRANCIS

Thank you. Thank you.

Okay, my friend, be free!

What the fuck!

What.

Was that Skrillex.

I think so.

*facepalm*

^^^^^^

the dudes who have been looking for Skrillex for 8 seasons straight.

lol

Alright wake up.

No.

YEs.

Why.

You're a DJ.

No.

You know what, you're right.

I'm always right.

*leaves*

[momentary peace]

Comes back with blowhorn

WAKE

*horn*

AH

UP

I am deaf.

No, you're a music producer.

I…hateyou.

COFFEE.

Yes ma'am.

Okay, so–

This is gonna be good.

Remember how i told you how I shapeshifted into professor meowingtons.

No.

Well.

Now i'm sad.

Don't be sad.

What did you do.

I fukked up.

I see that.

Why are you bringing me this.

I didn't honestly know where else to go.

Literally anywhere else.

But–you're my only friend.

–we're not friends.

AND THEN, HE SAID.

I'd like to Thank Beyoncé, for literally the greatest night of my life.

Someone stop this.

It's too late.

You promised.

I didn't promise you anything.

You promised me breakfast.

I don't think–

You said breakfast. This is breakfast.

I just meant

What.

Do you not like it?

I mean I–

It's all vegan.

Uh…

Even the cheese.

…

Just try it.

Try it.

Try it, or I'll kill you.

Uhhh…

I'm just kidding.

Ok–

Try it, or i'll kill myself.

Lol what a psycho.

But, the apron tho.

That part.

Mistrust,

Betrayal

Lets just adjust this perception, persay

The remembrance of what was forgotten has suddenly dawned on us

(not all at once, but)

“Once you get the hang of it”

He said,

But I'm still dangling, hanging from the ankle

“Say what you want to say,” I relay

“But say it to my face.”

( -The Hangman)

So far away

In outerspace

A YOUNG, MUSCULAR THUG is attempting to drown his assailant in a toilet.

JUST DIE ALREADY

Little does he know, his assailant is immortal.

I TOLD YOU ALREADY, I CANT.

AGGGH.

The struggle has resulted in quite the mess–still, he seems relentless in his endeavors.

His co conspirator watches with an eerily uneasy demeanor, before pulling him aside.

This is weird, man.

I know, right!

That motherfucker should've BEEN dead.

I know right.

This is crazy.

Yeah.

Maybe we should just

DIPLO is robbed of his Grammy Award, while relieving himself.

[no dialogue necessary]

{later on the phone}

They took my Grammy, man.

Oh shit, which one?

…The Good One.

Orange, Yellow, Blue, Yellow—

What are you doing

Counting the Diplos.

Ah.

“The Yellow Music Era”

Ah, take me back.

Can't go back.

Well, what color is this era.

EXT. EDX, HARDSTYLE STAGE. WHEN LITERALLY THE FUCK EVER.

Oh.

BLAAASASRRRRHHHHHZHZGGHHH.

Hm. I see.

Well, what'd they say?

Annihilation is imminent.

oh.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©