[ENTER THE MULTIVERSE]

[ENTER THE MULTIVERSE]

By InsomniacArts
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[ENTER THE MULTIVERSE] episodes

  • Garden of Evil. (Instrumental)

    Lil bitz

    So I'm watching this is it

    I love Michael Jackson,

    So I have this movie queued up for a couple days

    And I finally get to watching it,

    And it's been a quiet few days

    So I'm watching this movie in like silence.

    And it's so eerie to watch Michael Jackson rehearse in this like full stadium for nobody at all—

    Almost like, telling of the actuality of him impending death— but I'm watching this, and I'm like, really into it, you know, paying attention to all the details, and it gets to the part, one of my favorite songs:

    And it's showing him rehearsing like Jam, and you know, it's one of my favorite songs so I know all the words, and he's dancing— going like 110% in rehearsal.

    I trained in dancing for a little bit— most people don't do that. In rehearsal it's usually conserving your energy and just about the mechanics of everything, you know, the rehearsals leading up are like “75-80%” you know the drill, you get it down, but you conserve your energy for the big rehearsals— the dress rehearsals and the opening nights and the entirety of the tour— you don't want to burn our.

    But not Michael Jackson.

    This dude is going 400% at rehearsal, everytime you see him, which is why he's the absolute catalyst of professionalism for performance.

    But I'm watching him rehearse this at full, max-level energy, and he's aiming

    “Jam! Jam!”

    And I'm thinking about how literally this is just before he died, and he's really going all-in singing

    “Jam! It ain't too much for me!”

    And I can't help thinking about the irony of this, is that…

    ‘Like, actually, it is.”

    Like it was too much for him… because he did this—

    And then died shortly after.

    So the irony, to me, was like

    “It ain't too much for me!”

    I'm like

    “Yes it is.”

    It was too much for him.

    I couldn't help but notice the irony.

    “It ain't too much for me!”

    “Yes it is Michael! Sit the fuck down”

    Or better yet, dawg—

    Lay down….(mwahaha)

    Said, Conrad.

    “Let's take a nap, shall we?”

    Too soon?

    Okay, I get that his death was ruled a homicide:

    But here's my reverse conspiracy theory.

    I don't think he was murdered.

    I think he was ‘exited'

    No, not executed,

    “exited”

    Like, after all that, Michael was just like

    “ok , i'm getting off here. that's…that's enough.”

    Or like, we already knew he was immortal and wasn't gonna die anyway, of like, just natural causes.

    “Might as well make it a spectacle.”

    “This is it!”

    (lol that joke still works 15 years later, I guess. The movie is on youtube for free right now so, it's relevant.

    Its relevant.)

    {Enter The Multiverse}

    Every time I stick my hand in the middle of a papaya I wish I had a dick so I could warm it up and fuck it.

    Top Ten Best Fruits of All Time

    to be fair, I wrote the papaya joke before continuing my obsession with michael jackson in the monumental comic atrocity.

    Fair.

    You'd have to warm it up, though.

    He said,

    “Don't say shit”

    To this day it still don't make sense

    She didn't give a whisper,

    Slick tongue, six-nine

    Try dialogue

    but nothing she could try to find in time,

    And so, he counts from one to five

    and with the lies had come down to talk

    With the conclusion that after all,

    She couldn't do this

    And the story once to be told

    Now was none

    I dream in beforehand

    Secrets and premonitions

    Now you don't need me,
    I seek to bleed, sequence

    Ten seconds, initiated in the heartfire

    Words now?

    None I never thought of

    Before now,

    Now come.

    lol remember when Skrillex followed me to Brooklyn?

    Lol.

    Didn't I hide in a closet?

    I don't remember.

    Did I hide in the closet?

    What made me look that up?

    Curiosity killed the cat.

    Where the fuck is my cat, anyway?

    Atticus Catticus?

    The truth is,

    I think Skrillex might just be one cold hard murderer;

    I think Sonny hides behind his good looks and non subtle genius—

    I think I hide my eyes, cause I can't find them;

    The original pair went into the air,

    With The Rock And The Kite,

    And with all the despair in the world

    I like peaches and pears,

    After all,

    This is no random circumstances

    That you might have canned them,

    Then a penny for a power

    Just to recind how I did spend

    My last hour.

    Don't worry about that!

    I don't!

    Don't look and don't touch!

    I didn't!

    Don't gawk and don't talk back;

    I can't.

    I never quite abandoned anything so quite as badly

    As my own Cuban sandwhich

    Back in the cabbana,

    BRIAN CRANSTON

    Howdy partner!

    Goddammit, not right now!

    BRIAN CRANSTON

    If not now— WHEN?

    I don't know when!! Okay?!

    BRIAN CRANSTON

    No, not okay!

    I'm not okay!

    Well, why? What?

    BRIAN CRANSTON

    I'm not okay!

    BRIAN CRANSTON is not okay .

    AHHHHJJJJ!!!'nnnnnnnnnn!!!!!!'nnn

    Why is this map still open?!

    I don't know! The moderators won't close it.

    ANNE HATHAWAY harpoons a large subway rat.

    Guh! Fuck New York! I'm so over this?

    Don't you like trademark love New York?!

    Well not if I'm poor!

    Ah shit. We're back on the timeline where all the celebrities are poor?!

    SOME OF US NEVER LEFT.

    ALRIGHT, WHERE'S BIEBER?

    Let's just be honest about this unforgiving all out brawl between JUSTIN BIEBER and DEADMAU5 (JOEL ZIMMERMAN) being the trailer park trash event of the century.

    Oh by what fate have these circumstances foreseen us in such a miserable and yet alluring place

    To that which these two Canadians,

    Throughout time and dust marked one another as arch rivals,

    To have become

    Neighbors to one another

    In this, a barren swamp land.

    lol so from what I'm understanding

    Uh huh .

    Justin Bieber and like this deadmau5 guy are like—rivals, right—

    All time rivals—

    But in this parallel they actually

    Oh no, they live next door to each other in the trailer park.

    WHAT?

    Yeah. Those two guys.

    A SHOTGUN rings out through the bayou.

    Oh.

    That's—

    Yeah .

    This will be easy to do with cut-takes.

    Cause I think they actually don't get along.

    Who knows though?

    A SECOND SHOT seems to have connected with something unseen with great devastation.

    [The Festival Project ™]

    TMZ

    APPARENTLY THE ENTIRE BEEF WAS STAGED.

    SUNNI

    I what— ?

    MORGAN.

    [morgan does not respond]

    MORGAN!

    MORGAN arrives looking tired.

    MORGAN

    …yes?

    SUNNI

    WE NEED TO TALK.

    MORGAN

    …We are talking.

    SUNNI

    Why didn't you come before!?

    MORGAN

    When you called me by my name I thought it was a joke.

    SUNNI

    IT IS. A JOKE ,

    MORGAN

    What.

    SUNNI

    THE BEEF.

    [ references TMZ, then entirely destroys television]

    MORGAN

    Oh, come on—

    SUNNI

    It was STAGED.

    MORGAN

    (exhausted)

    I don't know what you're saying.

    {Enter The Multiverse}

    I like when you sit on my head;

    I love with you standard my mark,

    And I know when you bring in the world,

    Like a tag to a pond,

    Or the war come undone

    I just love when you number

    (Rumble)

    My world

    (There were forests)

    The total—

    When you,

    Ford her,

    For it

    Never,

    Gaping,

    Tapped and

    Unlocked,

    I've been craving—

    Bacon and eggs,

    I bought bacon and eggs

    And then back to the store

    And my backache this morning was

    Horrible,

    How's yours?

    For thr eleflowing mercy

    Or all the wars we fought, our

    Never showing conduct

    And yet waking in the crossfire

    There were others, aching

    Less and less I am enchantments

    There I'm sacred, planking

    Four to oars, our

    Known to knank, three,

    For to out fire

    There's no

    Safety

    Hours devour, I

    Wait,

    Snake, three,

    Stakes,

    Five,

    Four,

    Done,

    Sin fire

    Cease

    Can I go now?

    Free fellows

    For fliers

    So marks show

    Hardwire learning

    Ten fauxes

    Ten hoaxes

    So shelf life

    Won number

    Take it to courage

    For are you waiting for no one

    Colors

    Courage

    Oops.

    Shots fired.

    Girl, those are rockstars

    Girl, those are rockstars

    Girl, those are rockstars

    Show hosts with hot wives.

    Girl, those are rockstars,

    Girl, those are rockstars,

    Girl , those are rockstars

    Show hosts with high marks

    And hot wives

    And nine cars worth of

    Hard work

    Hard work

    Hard work

    Girl, those are rockstars,

    Show hosts with hot wives.

    Settle down umpire;

    Great service with hot knives

    And tourin, tourin—

    Tune in, tune in.

    The show's almost over

    We're covered in

    You're in,

    Year in and year out by and year one

    And don't call cause

    Girl, those are rockstars,

    Showstoppers,,

    Hard acts to follow

    And show hosts with hot wives.

    Girl, those are Rick stars,

    Showstoppers,

    Headhunters,

    Headliners, show closers,

    Hard acts to follow

    Show hosts with hot wives,

    Hit shows,

    High marks.

    Why, what's your offer?

    I call.

    9 lives.

    The Legend of Atticus Catticus

    It's best just not to talk about it;

    Of course, better not to talk at all–

    Now, take a look, his demonstrating excellence,

    Mathematics and precision, yes,

    You might as well just know it all

    But measure it all in low doses, short gallops,

    Heart open, no scallops and

    Medallions on scallions for the movements meant to move them

    —Errors.


    The artist reserves all rights to intellectual property maintained and produced by any and all publications of this series and is thereby protected under any applicable copyright law and/or trademark. All fictionalizations of persons living or dead are meant to be perceived as characterized and/or fictional (fan-fiction) are for entertainment purposes only, and are not to be perceived as real re-enactments, dramatizations of events past or present, media dialogues or agendas, or factual exchanges pertaining to and surrounding real-life circumstances.

    The dialogues and entires expressed in this project are in no way liable for any action, expression, disagreements, entitlements held by the reader at his or her/ their own discretion.

    [The Festival Project ™]

    The Complex Collective ©

    {Enter The Multiverse}

    -Ū.

    4 min
  • FR3∆KY FRÏD∆ŸS w/-Ū. - EP. 007 (LIVE)

    I was told specifically not to go to that grocery store anymore— but they had the rice noodles I liked. The thing was, actually, this time, they didn't— and so I knew my time was again coming to a close. I knew it would be the last time before I left, and regardless that I was going to leave anyway, but it felt like the last time— there were no rice noodles at all, and with my arms full of essentials, I figure listening to the voice in my head that told me not to do these things was probably for the best.'I can hear that.' But I was beginning to be rebellious in my actions and endeavors, because I simply wasn't making money, and this was making me not just sad, but actually very angry.

    {Enter The Multiverse}

    Professor Tannenbaum.

    Sir.

    Yikes.

    I'm sure

    I'm shown up at the Equinox

    Just for [someone] to torture me

    Cause for what?

    I'm dead broke, and not a [] blonde

    I'm on another trial

    Been tryin, but been a while

    It's too bad I'm too tired to run a mile

    I been

    Up all night

    It ain't right

    I hate New York

    I'm so sick of being broke

    But I still cannot find a job,

    I'm so certain that it's hell that I'm l surprised

    It's not on fire,

    But maybe all hell is for real l

    Is a cold heart world

    With no love in it

    Where you stop being inspired

    It's murder for hire with motorcycles

    And corrupt politicians

    So if I look a little older

    I'm smart to sue em

    So y'op wanna walk toward

    And cut me off

    Tryna get noticed by a God

    But I been only in New York

    So I'm humbled, mumble like i'm nobody

    But the no ones try to follow me

    I swallow all my humble cards

    I want to pick them up

    But just for once ,

    I leave my garbage on the floor

    All these skanks

    Look like Hillary swank

    Come to thinking they slick tryna take the energy I make

    They all look like snakes

    Lazy

    But never cease to amaze me

    Walking up in the world I made

    Still tryna hate me.

    Thankfully, it's just a think tank to me

    and when the balance beam turns the tables on em

    I'm he back in my temple home;

    Now it's your turn to be homeless,

    Ya boneless serpent

    This is just a bonus l

    Cause I took a wrong turn

    But it was the right one

    Cause I got some rhymes done.

    Ya'll get off of my nuts

    Look, I got nine Trump cards

    Welcome to my dump, lards

    You're non recyclable!

    What can I say

    Besides,

    That I'm always correct

    Look at the thing that coughs she's gross and she don't have the touch

    The flight of love.

    The touch of god,

    The twist of the hand

    Or knowing from before

    But she benefits off of the blood

    The coughs

    The sign of the demons and dark ones

    It was already a done deal.

    I knew it was sort of a scam, or maybe even sometimes that rich white peoples had the worst demons of all—

    My fears had been confirmed the moment I walked in, someone coughing in that same disgusting way as I had been used to as soon as I approached the desk to activate my pass— but I knew as soon as I walked in that it was worth it; I would save everything that I had and sell my outdated DJ gear I wasn't using anyway, and I would take advantage of the offer to reinstate my membership; this would serve me so much more than my equipment was anyway. I wasn't getting along in the DJ world, and in fact after the cancellation of REQUISITE, the disrespect at [redacted] , and the techno Jew telling me my clothes and looks made me worthless in the industry, I considered he might have been right; I would be better off back where I started, at Equinox and broke but at least amongst the clean and quiet elite— this would raise my vibration and clear my headspace for something greater, eventually…even if it was just a job in luxury retail–going back to school or figuring out how to get behind the scene.

    My DJ days seemed to be over; I needed security and longevity, and I needed the opportunity to come back at the price with a one month advance desperately. Perhaps six weeks of training could jumpstart something better; I didn't know. But selling my equipment was worth it, because being a DJ was getting me nowhere but a quickly depleting supply of coconut water.

    Man wheezy for real

    And I don't even feel the pain

    Came a long way to Wayne

    I took the 2 train,

    Fell out of the truth

    Still trying to find 2 chainz

    But I went the wrong way

    I been up all day

    Somethings wrong,

    I should probably go to a hospital

    A long time ago

    I'm hoping that this tissue mass is cancer

    And it's fatal tho

    Fee like I'm inflatable

    Ain't no man is faithful yo

    I'll probably smoke a big ol bowl

    When I get back to heaven, man

    With a rebel yell, she cried:

    omg, a leg press.

    Feeling like, a little bit friendless

    Should probably get a wet wipe

    Should probably get some leg lifts in

    Should probably get the leg press in

    It's been a late one

    Should probably get some press ons

    Probably get my press kits done

    Should probably call it in

    But then again

    Don't got a home much longer

    Do I!

    Parallels,

    This shit is real

    I get it in for a second then

    Case dismissed

    I kept it innocent

    I went to equinox to reinvent myself

    A second

    Take a second thought,

    And then forgot—

    I'm at the wrong plaza

    Nooo? Noooo not

    [The Rock And The Kite, Part ☠️]

    The diabolical plan worked

    The motorcycles weakened the [trigger] bad,

    We really had her,

    Out on Brooklyn queens border

    She looks ten year older

    Her hair is so out of order

    Her nails is l chipping in polish

    Got her caught up in the moment

    She probably can't even afford it

    But that is just not out problem!

    Haha

    Fuck,

    I forgot how to do this.

    Uh.

    Forgot all my gym etiquette

    I got a running album on

    But the track closed

    For the free trial

    Imma eat out

    And by that I mean

    Freestyle

    I be out side

    When I get midtown

    I ain't been down

    Since I came out

    The train station

    Screens, screens screens

    Someone please please please

    Fix me

    Seem to be

    Splitting at the seams seams seams

    I could scream, scream, scream

    Yes,

    I see me in the media

    I need, need, need

    Something to

    Ease ease ease me

    Like an easel

    Or Julius ceaser

    Jesus.

    There's no time I contemplate more

    On how strange the humanity is

    Then when working out

    Intensively.

    No longer really even interested

    In sexual relations as it ascertains

    I may just be the opposite of Satan

    And I just don't have the patience

    Or the taste for any sort of

    Romanticism or fantasies

    In a trance, I guess

    But I've been living in the trash,

    I guess

    Well, that was depressing.

    Yes, going all the way uptown

    And to equinox in the same day

    Is very often

    A lot.

    UPTOWN

    Yo. Wtf this place is gross.

    Eeeeeeeehh—

    GROSS.

    Uptown is quieter than my hood

    But full of dead things,

    I just dread these realizations,

    But to spread the disease is easy

    I'm in the red and queasy

    Meaning to get elevated

    But I made a play today

    What was I saying

    Lil bitz

    Bro I'm vegan but just got a cat

    And I did not realize shopping for cat food

    Would be a conflict of interest .

    Like, I know cats are carnivorous,

    I'm not dumb.

    But I'm discussing this with my AI assistant like,

    Trying to find a natural cruelty free brand,

    And she's like

    “Oh, here's some vegan cat food.”

    I was like,

    “Enough, white people!”

    I love white people—

    The good ones, you know.

    Not the

    *coughs heavily*

    Like,

    Those are obviously bad but like

    Mostly they're alright—

    Mostly cause of things like this:

    Vegan cat food!

    I'm a vegan!

    But imm like

    “Don't be dumb.”

    That's dumb.

    Cats are meat eaters.

    That's just vicious!

    And it's overpriced!

    I could see if you were cutting corners and skipping prices by like,

    Forgetting the meat,

    And this was like a nutritious, half priced alternative

    But no,

    Like most things that are vegan,

    It's double-priced.

    I'm like

    “Ahem, I was looking for cruelty-free brands!

    This by the price point alone is cruel!

    But I did not realize shopping for this on Amazon

    Would be such an entire conflict of interest,

    I'm like

    “Eughh!”

    “Gravy swirl”

    I'm like,

    “Gross.”

    And then I'm looking at the flavors like,

    Are people actually shopping for cat food,

    Like they're shopping for themselves?

    They're like

    “Oh bone-broth infused”

    That sounds good!

    “Chicken beef swirled flavor”

    I'm like

    “Eugh.”

    Like it is obnoxious and nasty,

    I must admit,

    I've been a Whole Foods shopper for too long

    I'm like

    “Hmm. How about sweet potato… like, pumpkin-cod?”

    No?

    Ah, here we are

    “Brown rice and fillet…”

    Classy.

    The Legend of Atticus Catticus

    Tales of a Superstar DJ

    LEGENDS: ICONS

    Ascension

    Deathwish

    • Whatever Else

      On

      [The Festival Project ™ ]

      The Complex Collective ©

      Copyright 2019 All Rights Reserved

      -Ū.

      1 hr 15 min
    • Hiatus #3: Nails, Hair, Hips, Heels.

      We're running out of time .

      We're Always running out of times.

      Haven't eaten;

      Kesha—Birkin—

      Sorry, Conan,

      Haven't pondered

      (Fight!)

      There you are;

      Equinox mornings

      Getting lost

      (Fun)

      Doesn't shove

      Croissants down the throat

      As long as I'm on the island

      (What?)

      Long day;

      Never money

      Haven't got a

      (Cat!)

      Sanctuary

      (doves)

      Jimmy Fallon?

      Never found him

      (What?)

      Pools of blood,

      Nevermind that.

      I was so sick the night before,

      Even in my sleep that I thought to call out.

      But no,

      “I don't skip freaky friday.”

      I hadn't yet, and so my streak was valid, but I felt like shit, and despite my sponsorship I didn't feel I had any interest in DJing at all.

      The apertment was a mess, and though I'd spent the day before for hours cleaning in all the crevices the cat found that I hadn't, it still wasn't perfect— then, why would I try to make it perfect on the brink of eviction with the dread and depression that came with the noise?

      I wanted to fucking die, and the long hours not spent sorting through my hard drives were instead spent watching Saturday night live and funneling popped corn into my mouth, because indeed— I was actually, finally, chrnically depressed.

      It could be written off as some coincidence or extreme city noise, but I knew in my heart it was instead asassination, the apartment was a trap and I'd been set up to be weakened enough to eventually either kill myself, or back to homelessness to die.

      The least thing I was interested in was music, and apparently, though I'd had thousands of dollars somewhere in unclaimed royalties , I couldn't seem to find my EIN— the business tax ID I needed to file papers, because I didn't use it often enough; I didn't file taxes, because I wasn't making money.

      (At least, I'd thought I hadn't.)

      I couldn't even remember which subway stop was the correct one; and I knew with this I must have been coming to the end of my time in New York; everything seemed strange and faraway, as if I were in a dream.

      L E G E N D S: ICONS

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      He's heaven

      But i'm probably his headache

      What's a medical assessment to lemon merengue

      And I wish to that same heaven that we're all as sick

      As what's disturbed to be described by

      Highest our physicians can abide

      Just the though of him,

      The whispers of prolific;

      Just the sight,

      I get to writing thoughts

      As if the words were mine,

      But still,

      The caves of wells kept secret,

      Pure and water like the thoughts,

      Are just the parallels od subtle secrets

      Kept inside a box

      This could be mine,

      Dammit, a glimpse—

      Who are I?

      Caught in a wince with the glimpse of a notion

      And putting out fires—

      Who are I?

      You call?

      In the midsts of a morning,

      Worlds over,

      Neglected,

      No former recognition, but

      Who are you for?

      Not mine,

      But still a world of sure

      For art mines

      Copyright 2019 ©

      The Complex Collective ©

      [The Festival Project ™]

      All Rights Reserved

      -Ū.

      1 hr 21 min
    • Hiatus #2: Enter Atticus Catticus.

      You came to the right guy; as it just so happens, I work at the foundry.

      What's 'the foundry'

      I think we're about to find out.

      But— don't you already know?

      Ag

      H—!

      You ‘work‘ there?

      Yes, I ‘work' there.

      The star gets his gun out at dawn to shoot crow

      The crown dropped to floor, just as sure as the gun went missing

      The same gun as in window;

      Same gun as before,

      Just remember, you're forward—

      Remember, you're four of them.

      Oh good, yeah. I forgot about

      —that one.

      And that one,

      And that one,

      And that one.

      And this gun,

      And this gun,

      And this gun—

      And this god,

      And this god,

      And this god.

      Yeah, I forgot

      The festival project ™

      Yes, I forgot about Jon Lovits

      I forgot all the songs that I wanted to talk about

      Yes, I forgot just a sure as the sun forgot New York this morning

      But I was so sure of my self at the turn of the hour

      How now, you say?

      Not now, gone times;

      Just gone, New York,

      All about none for Sunday

      And I picked up a quarter

      (I picked up a quarter,

      I picked up a quarter,

      I picked up a quarter

      I'll be gone till Sunday,

      Till sundown,

      Move forward

      Fuck!

      Make sure not to turn down on a hardcore

      Make sure to come down off the hard times,

      Not god, but you're acting a good one

      Not now, but you're acting on our time

      (On our time!)

      DOC

      I never stretch!

      I don't feel it's appropriate!

      Gisselle doesnt talk much.

      Giselle is a proud mouse

      Were coming on hard times

      The harp was a purist

      And then, I got wisdom

      Again, with this, witness?

      I told you, don't come home

      I asked you: where's Skrillex?!

      Ooh. Watch this!

      No!

      Where's— what?

      You know what I'm talking about

      I'm pretty sure I do not!

      I—

      Oh.

      Oh no.

      No. This is good.

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      I told you already, I'll kill you!

      Okay, Bathsheba!

      “Bathsheba”

      Wtf.

      I told you, that's exactly what you're supposed to do.

      What!

      Read my contract!

      What.

      It's in my contract, read the clauses.

      Do what!?

      Lil bitz

      Does anybody here believe in the Illuminati?

      I do, but not in the way you would think .

      I think the main purpose of the Illuminati is just to mindfuck with you.

      That's it.

      That's all they do.

      Like , true, it's probably a like helm of ancient wisdom and knowledge,

      But also, probably—

      I think they practically exist,

      Just to blow your mind.

      There's no big secret.

      It's just,

      “Wtf.”

      And they're like

      “Ahaha” ”I know right?!”

      That's basically the whole thing.

      L E G E N D S

      I really liked you.

      Yeah, I… I know .

      I really wish I didn't have to kill you.

      Yeah, I—wait a second.

      Oh shit!

      Add more weight.

      I'm sure I only got this way by soully having sex with

      Just myself.

      This is causing problems.

      That's probably not going to help that whole holding in a fart issue, is it?

      Can I get some two-year continuity in this bitch?

      Some gratuity for no incontinence,

      Some incongruity rooting for you in this bitch?

      A table for two in this bitchz.

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      {Ah, we meet again.}

      A table for two is set center stage;

      The spotlight shines dead center the round table, and its centerpiece, a single throned rose, at peak bloom.

      The rest of the room is a blurred shambles,

      The two just offstage and unseen in the wings, preparing to duel.

      We only hear their quick witted exchange of words as the table sits alone, and briefly, ever so slightly, the teardrops of a chandelier begins to shine with the prismatic glow of a swirling…

      Hmm, wait a second .

      This is genius at play,

      But the thing is,

      It's not work when you love it,

      And I don't,

      It's just slipping through the prisms

      As I just begin to see them

      I'm sunsure whether the circumstances are.

      Aromantic or quite ardent

      And I forget

      I don't know what day it is

      Or the seconds counting,

      As I slip between dimensions

      And the parallels

      Are real I guess,

      But something stressed in this m-theory,

      Really, do they fear me

      Or are they all just here to hear me

      Recently,

      I see nothing

      Blind as a bat and I've been so depressed

      But the stressed is repressed as expressions,

      Ten seconds in and it only get deeper,

      I'm keeping her secrets.

      Guess what.

      WHAT IS IT CONAN?

      What a red headed hot mess

      Do not come closer!

      I will call the cops on you.

      Guess what?

      What!

      We s ted.

      Goddamn bro, you are sloshed.

      I have never seen you this wasted, Jimmy, and that's saying something.

      Like really saying something.

      [the festival project ™]

      You used me as a human shield!

      Did I—?

      Yes!

      Oh, yes I— I did. I forgot.

      You forgot?!

      It served its purpose!

      I guess,

      *shrugs*

      Well, jokes on you, because guess what!

      I'm Tina Fey!

      What? No you're not.

      [looks directly in the eye]

      Oh my god, you're Tina fey.

      Yes, I am!

      Okay! So who's Tina Fey then?

      That's the problem! We don't know!

      All this and that's the problem?

      Amongst others!

      Obviously.

      Honorable mentions:

      Sketchers “the uno”

      As campaign is double zero models with extremely pretty faces- pretty little things that could kill you

      Pretty Tiny things, as seen on tv

      Target is winning with their QR code on the commercial, ad game next level

      Dishonorable mentions

      I hate the FaceTune ads

      Nurse ratched's description

      Lil bitz

      Man, I love midtown

      I came out the Equinox

      It smelled like summer camp and shit

      No doubt cause something within proximity is on fire,

      But still.

      Brooklyn smells like —different than that..

      Bruh.

      Has anyone been to union square lately?

      All week the whole shit smells like vomited popped corn.

      All week.

      Not vomit alone.

      Not popped corn alone—

      But actually a perfect polyblend

      Of vomited popped corn.

      Lil bitz

      I just got a cat—

      Do you understand what it's like

      To drag a cat through Manhattan?

      I realized I just became

      “That guy”

      For possibly the first time since I even got to New York .

      It's been a while, so that's good, but—

      “Cat on a train”

      Is a whole different level of like

      “Oh.”

      I'm like

      “That's right.”

      Don't get me wrong,

      This is not an every day thing.

      This is just to my apartment

      Then he's trapped there forever.

      But let's be serious—

      “Cat on a train” is like—

      People aren't exactly happy with you

      Or think good things about you

      They're like

      “Oh”

      Wel first off,

      I'm sure they don't know it's a cat,

      So it's just a box with holes in it

      Could be anything.

      “Weirdo”

      True;

      I see an indiscriminate box with holes in it that just says “adoption” I'm like

      “Oh for real that could like; be whatever.”

      “Omg where are you going with that—thing.”

      Right?

      This is my magic guard animal.

      I brought him for two reasons—

      One: cause I got a badass cat tree like too long ago

      And I was sick of looking at it

      And the litter box it came with just taking up space in my closet;

      Those two things make up one reason

      The second reason

      Is as a suicide deterrent

      Because at this point,

      I'm obviously lonely,

      And so this way,

      I know I'm less likely to kill my self

      If I know this fool will just eat me.

      I'll think about it a little longer

      And a little harder

      Before I actually do it.

      I'll be like

      “But…which part will he eat?”

      Right?

      “Not my face, right?”

      “Omg that's horrible.”

      “K nevermind i'll stick it out”

      He's a magic cat

      You can tell this dudes just different .

      I got to the train station and I put the box down

      And just stuck my finger through one of the holes—

      You know, just to let him know

      Cause I figure this has to be a lot for a cat, right?

      So I stick my finger in the box but I can't see him or anything, so I just stick my finger in, nothing.

      He's not like sniffing my finger or biting it off or anything, but I figure he's alive,

      Then the train comes, so I get up to get on the train,

      And the box just starts vibrating.

      Then I realize,

      The guy is purring.

      We're in an uptown subway station and aparently this dude is about that nonsense.

      He's chillin.

      I'm like,

      “I'm glad you're enjoying this,

      This is my least favorite part, actually.”

      My guy. He's different.

      Now imm the girl on the train with the cat in the box

      And not to lie,

      I just figured out what it's like to have no one want to be around you for a minute

      Which, to me, is cool.

      I'm like,

      “Yeah, okay, please actually,

      Yea, stay away from me.”

      “Stay away from me and my indiscriminate box.”

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      I might be the only person in history

      To give my cat

      A stupider name

      Than he already had.

      I told you, he's a Magical cat

      First of all, his other name was technically two names—

      His name was Mike & Ike— if you don't know,

      That's two dudes.

      Okay, so he's at least two guys,

      But I might be the only one so far

      To go the extra mile and instead of gratifying this failure of a name,

      I named him what the fuck he was supposed to be called.

      Cause I knew that.

      He came to me in a dream,

      And he told me

      “Atticus Catticus”

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      Copyright 2019 ©

      The Complex Collective ©

      [The Festival Project ™]

      All Rights Reserved

      -Ū.

      1 hr 5 min
    • Hiatus #2: Enter Atticus Catticus.

      You came to the right guy; as it just so happens, I work at the foundry.

      What's 'the foundry'

      I think we're about to find out.

      But— don't you already know?

      Ag

      H—!

      You ‘work‘ there?

      Yes, I ‘work' there.

      The star gets his gun out at dawn to shoot crow

      The crown dropped to floor, just as sure as the gun went missing

      The same gun as in window;

      Same gun as before,

      Just remember, you're forward—

      Remember, you're four of them.

      Oh good, yeah. I forgot about

      —that one.

      And that one,

      And that one,

      And that one.

      And this gun,

      And this gun,

      And this gun—

      And this god,

      And this god,

      And this god.

      Yeah, I forgot

      The festival project ™

      Yes, I forgot about Jon Lovits

      I forgot all the songs that I wanted to talk about

      Yes, I forgot just a sure as the sun forgot New York this morning

      But I was so sure of my self at the turn of the hour

      How now, you say?

      Not now, gone times;

      Just gone, New York,

      All about none for Sunday

      And I picked up a quarter

      (I picked up a quarter,

      I picked up a quarter,

      I picked up a quarter

      I'll be gone till Sunday,

      Till sundown,

      Move forward

      Fuck!

      Make sure not to turn down on a hardcore

      Make sure to come down off the hard times,

      Not god, but you're acting a good one

      Not now, but you're acting on our time

      (On our time!)

      DOC

      I never stretch!

      I don't feel it's appropriate!

      Gisselle doesnt talk much.

      Giselle is a proud mouse

      Were coming on hard times

      The harp was a purist

      And then, I got wisdom

      Again, with this, witness?

      I told you, don't come home

      I asked you: where's Skrillex?!

      Ooh. Watch this!

      No!

      Where's— what?

      You know what I'm talking about

      I'm pretty sure I do not!

      I—

      Oh.

      Oh no.

      No. This is good.

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      I told you already, I'll kill you!

      Okay, Bathsheba!

      “Bathsheba”

      Wtf.

      I told you, that's exactly what you're supposed to do.

      What!

      Read my contract!

      What.

      It's in my contract, read the clauses.

      Do what!?

      Lil bitz

      Does anybody here believe in the Illuminati?

      I do, but not in the way you would think .

      I think the main purpose of the Illuminati is just to mindfuck with you.

      That's it.

      That's all they do.

      Like , true, it's probably a like helm of ancient wisdom and knowledge,

      But also, probably—

      I think they practically exist,

      Just to blow your mind.

      There's no big secret.

      It's just,

      “Wtf.”

      And they're like

      “Ahaha” ”I know right?!”

      That's basically the whole thing.

      L E G E N D S

      I really liked you.

      Yeah, I… I know .

      I really wish I didn't have to kill you.

      Yeah, I—wait a second.

      Oh shit!

      Add more weight.

      I'm sure I only got this way by soully having sex with

      Just myself.

      This is causing problems.

      That's probably not going to help that whole holding in a fart issue, is it?

      Can I get some two-year continuity in this bitch?

      Some gratuity for no incontinence,

      Some incongruity rooting for you in this bitch?

      A table for two in this bitchz.

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      {Ah, we meet again.}

      A table for two is set center stage;

      The spotlight shines dead center the round table, and its centerpiece, a single throned rose, at peak bloom.

      The rest of the room is a blurred shambles,

      The two just offstage and unseen in the wings, preparing to duel.

      We only hear their quick witted exchange of words as the table sits alone, and briefly, ever so slightly, the teardrops of a chandelier begins to shine with the prismatic glow of a swirling…

      Hmm, wait a second .

      This is genius at play,

      But the thing is,

      It's not work when you love it,

      And I don't,

      It's just slipping through the prisms

      As I just begin to see them

      I'm sunsure whether the circumstances are.

      Aromantic or quite ardent

      And I forget

      I don't know what day it is

      Or the seconds counting,

      As I slip between dimensions

      And the parallels

      Are real I guess,

      But something stressed in this m-theory,

      Really, do they fear me

      Or are they all just here to hear me

      Recently,

      I see nothing

      Blind as a bat and I've been so depressed

      But the stressed is repressed as expressions,

      Ten seconds in and it only get deeper,

      I'm keeping her secrets.

      Guess what.

      WHAT IS IT CONAN?

      What a red headed hot mess

      Do not come closer!

      I will call the cops on you.

      Guess what?

      What!

      We s ted.

      Goddamn bro, you are sloshed.

      I have never seen you this wasted, Jimmy, and that's saying something.

      Like really saying something.

      [the festival project ™]

      You used me as a human shield!

      Did I—?

      Yes!

      Oh, yes I— I did. I forgot.

      You forgot?!

      It served its purpose!

      I guess,

      *shrugs*

      Well, jokes on you, because guess what!

      I'm Tina Fey!

      What? No you're not.

      [looks directly in the eye]

      Oh my god, you're Tina fey.

      Yes, I am!

      Okay! So who's Tina Fey then?

      That's the problem! We don't know!

      All this and that's the problem?

      Amongst others!

      Obviously.

      Honorable mentions:

      Sketchers “the uno”

      As campaign is double zero models with extremely pretty faces- pretty little things that could kill you

      Pretty Tiny things, as seen on tv

      Target is winning with their QR code on the commercial, ad game next level

      Dishonorable mentions

      I hate the FaceTune ads

      Nurse ratched's description

      Lil bitz

      Man, I love midtown

      I came out the Equinox

      It smelled like summer camp and shit

      No doubt cause something within proximity is on fire,

      But still.

      Brooklyn smells like —different than that..

      Bruh.

      Has anyone been to union square lately?

      All week the whole shit smells like vomited popped corn.

      All week.

      Not vomit alone.

      Not popped corn alone—

      But actually a perfect polyblend

      Of vomited popped corn.

      Lil bitz

      I just got a cat—

      Do you understand what it's like

      To drag a cat through Manhattan?

      I realized I just became

      “That guy”

      For possibly the first time since I even got to New York .

      It's been a while, so that's good, but—

      “Cat on a train”

      Is a whole different level of like

      “Oh.”

      I'm like

      “That's right.”

      Don't get me wrong,

      This is not an every day thing.

      This is just to my apartment

      Then he's trapped there forever.

      But let's be serious—

      “Cat on a train” is like—

      People aren't exactly happy with you

      Or think good things about you

      They're like

      “Oh”

      Wel first off,

      I'm sure they don't know it's a cat,

      So it's just a box with holes in it

      Could be anything.

      “Weirdo”

      True;

      I see an indiscriminate box with holes in it that just says “adoption” I'm like

      “Oh for real that could like; be whatever.”

      “Omg where are you going with that—thing.”

      Right?

      This is my magic guard animal.

      I brought him for two reasons—

      One: cause I got a badass cat tree like too long ago

      And I was sick of looking at it

      And the litter box it came with just taking up space in my closet;

      Those two things make up one reason

      The second reason

      Is as a suicide deterrent

      Because at this point,

      I'm obviously lonely,

      And so this way,

      I know I'm less likely to kill my self

      If I know this fool will just eat me.

      I'll think about it a little longer

      And a little harder

      Before I actually do it.

      I'll be like

      “But…which part will he eat?”

      Right?

      “Not my face, right?”

      “Omg that's horrible.”

      “K nevermind i'll stick it out”

      He's a magic cat

      You can tell this dudes just different .

      I got to the train station and I put the box down

      And just stuck my finger through one of the holes—

      You know, just to let him know

      Cause I figure this has to be a lot for a cat, right?

      So I stick my finger in the box but I can't see him or anything, so I just stick my finger in, nothing.

      He's not like sniffing my finger or biting it off or anything, but I figure he's alive,

      Then the train comes, so I get up to get on the train,

      And the box just starts vibrating.

      Then I realize,

      The guy is purring.

      We're in an uptown subway station and aparently this dude is about that nonsense.

      He's chillin.

      I'm like,

      “I'm glad you're enjoying this,

      This is my least favorite part, actually.”

      My guy. He's different.

      Now imm the girl on the train with the cat in the box

      And not to lie,

      I just figured out what it's like to have no one want to be around you for a minute

      Which, to me, is cool.

      I'm like,

      “Yeah, okay, please actually,

      Yea, stay away from me.”

      “Stay away from me and my indiscriminate box.”

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      I might be the only person in history

      To give my cat

      A stupider name

      Than he already had.

      I told you, he's a Magical cat

      First of all, his other name was technically two names—

      His name was Mike & Ike— if you don't know,

      That's two dudes.

      Okay, so he's at least two guys,

      But I might be the only one so far

      To go the extra mile and instead of gratifying this failure of a name,

      I named him what the fuck he was supposed to be called.

      Cause I knew that.

      He came to me in a dream,

      And he told me

      “Atticus Catticus”

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      Copyright 2019 ©

      The Complex Collective ©

      [The Festival Project ™]

      All Rights Reserved

      -Ū.

      1 hr 5 min
    • Hiatus #1: ASMR in Hiatus.

      Eyes, eyes— who's got eyes?!

      Here, I have eyes.

      I don't want yours.

      What? Why not?!

      Eyes, eyes, buys and trades—!

      The day I met Atticus catticus, I by some strange coincidence also discovered

      “Toonces”

      …and however startling it was that they looked just alike, the cat himself had other strangenesses about him that I couldn't seem to shake.

      The other adjustments were yet to have taken place, but the cat did seem to be armed with a certain spirit, that did indeed show me immidiately things I might have otherwise missed.

      Still, it was true that this weirdness might have been misinterpreted, but however shallow my aspirations remained to the theatre world, or the world at large, it seems as though there was just stil some kind of strange connection with Saturday Night Live I couldn't shake.

      Almost like it followed me everywhere.

      BIG JIMMY runs SIN CENTRE at SIN CITY, an exclusive bar and restaurant in Las Vegas.

      You don't know about Sin Centre at Sin City?'

      No.

      It's the premier underground boutique for all of what happens in Vegas— or, what didn't, if you know what I'm saying.

      I'm sure I don't z

      I'm sure I don't either *winks*

      I need magnesium;

      Creep level fantastic,

      I wreak of havoc

      I wreck the fanflick

      Fanfiction?

      Now i'm fired,

      Give up!

      I'm a channel

      Back to the hard part

      Look at me! I'm getting

      Eleven miles an hour

      Isn't it strange how

      Just this morning

      In the kitchen

      I was thinking

      How I just love Sarah Silverman

      And how

      The chemistry with Kimmel is

      –

      Creep level: fantastic

      THen,

      If this is episodic,

      I'm not the only one who feels this way about it

      I might be a bad guy
      I like the darkness

      I might be the bad type,

      I like,

      Flirt with darkness

      Jp

      Did you write this?!

      I–i think i did.

      You think?

      I have forgetfulness syndrome!

      Why is everybody falling in love?
      But i”m alone

      Maybe I'm not supposed to have love

      So i'm alone

      But

      Too many talks to tell,

      I can't want,

      But i'm alone,

      And still

      Everybody wants to have love

      And i'm alone

      I have this weird theory that to be a female

      And get booked on Seth Meyers

      Not only should you be kind of almost probably famous

      But definitely under 120 pounds.

      Lil Bitz

      I'm telling you! he's Slytherin!

      Do you watch the show?

      Watch the show!

      Every female he interviews has anorexia!

      Not a joke!

      Watch the show.

      He has a copy of moby dick on his desk!

      What's that about!?

      Slytherin!

      Slytherin!

      So the question is:


      Can i fill five minutes with this?

      Puh

      This kid.

      Wondering about five minutes

      When she really needs an hour of material

      And a material witness

      This depression is actually the worst I've been

      Since I escaped prison.

      I should have went to Princeton.

      I should never run for president.

      Amen.

      I told you, republican!

      A bold move, and the light I'm on—

      Tonight, I'm fowl

      I get a grin

      Tonight, I prowl

      I'm off again.

      I haven't been this incandescent

      Since

      Information on

      Ronald Regan

      Came to surface

      This: his

      Indiscretions

      send my regrets to lettermen

      I haven't had it better since.

      Gavel gavel gavel!

      And I ramble ramble ramble on

      The mouse that lights to gamble

      Likes the Kat and tattoo addicts

      But the fans just can't acknowledge

      That we're on in the apocalypse

      I gotta get my marks up

      Or a proposition predicate

      Or advocates on terror

      Where's the war you ordered

      Not another table

      Kill the waitress

      Heal the sparrow

      Right the old case in a letter

      Harrow, harrow

      Case is waiting

      And I've yet to make it

      Everything I do just makes me

      Faint,

      Like I'm exasperated and exhausted

      All at the same time

      Call out my mantras—

      Look, I'm a loser

      Out in the open

      Promise

      Provoke my promocuity once more

      And I'll get you all fired.

      Fired! Fired! Fired!

      You look good in a tux

      Good suit and tie

      Good at the desk, boss,

      Ma?

      She's a

      Hard crier

      I got divorces,

      Widowers,

      Window surfaces on a horcrux

      Hard wires,

      And hard times on a jarred door

      Oh!

      Yeah.

      It's hard coming to terms with death

      When your afterlife is

      Jay Leno on a long highway

      In stuck traffic

      And you got to think

      “I know that guy”

      But no you don't,

      You're far from it and still

      Show hosts aren't for hire

      In the aqueduct construction,

      For I?

      Seth Meyers, young soul!

      Very hard, but good to know him.

      Kimmel had a tough crowd,

      But

      Fear, I've bartered hard to order.

      Fries with that?

      Oh noooooooo!

      He stopped dying his greys

      He's been writing for days

      And he's stuck in his ways:

      Cheerios are too sweet honey-nutted

      And honey nutted my rebuttal on live broadcast

      I finally got comcast,

      I finally went all broke

      Ahhh, we're gonna die.

      I guarantee you, this is that.

      Tuesday— midnight.

      What goes on.

      Didn't I tell you not to talk to me?!

      They know everything.

      Don't you know by now I can't be trusted?

      If I try to call

      We'll get disconnected

      And this interception

      Has been live broadcasted–

      So I get the picture

      This is all disaster.

      Took a number,

      Run hard, I get there faster

      [The Festival Project ™ ]

      For everybody else,

      Life goes on

      But mine has not

      So it feels more like sickness

      Than just fan fiction

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      Copyright 2019 ©

      The Complex Collective ©

      [The Festival Project ™]

      All Rights Reserved

      -Ū.

      1 hr 1 min
    • Happy Accidents - Hiatus Mix

      Once Upon A Coconut

      Like Nesquik out da can

      I think it, then I can

      Need a guru, I'm the man

      In supply I got demand

      Need a sample mail it to you

      I arrive like out the blue dude

      Do you influence multitudes of groups?

      Unusual

      Every day all black

      Just like I pull up to da funural

      Respect; I keep it mutual

      Interests and got intellect,

      delicable like Ecuadorian

      bananas in DeLorean

      Or waffles with some syrup on it

      Sir up in my stirrups: wanted

      Not about the gossip

      But it's possible I'll ponder on it

      Somber I got calmer on em

      Sub I put a collar on

      I pull up in the suburbs in a suburban

      And get my mother on,

      For father's sake I put the cock in peacock

      On my color guard

      I call that comical

      Scouts honor

      I don't go to comicon

      Unless I gotta talk about the robot that I roll up on

      Or

      Show up on the show I wrote

      But no this ain't no 30 Rock

      My references out of date

      And my resources out of order

      But for the record

      I sort of shudder

      When forced to watch that law and order show

      I just don't SVU

      Omg

      I don't envy you,

      I'd rather NV just to

      EDC so you could see me

      On TV or

      In the booth

      That would be cool

      —da guru.

      JOEL ZIMMERMAN wakes up to find three dead mice all lined up in a row; he is uneasy (despite his expression for the most part, remarkably unchanged) —as this is the sure sign of a nemesis.

      It may even be SKRILLEX.

      Immidiately he moves through the kitchen and past at least four SUPERMODELS and into the room Where he keeps his mau5 heads—

      Each of them have been very specifically mutilated, besides one, kept—again—remarkably— intact. It seems to have been activated by a motion censor.

      It relays a musical message, then explodes.

      ☠️ ☠️ ☠️

      …yes,

      this was definitely Skrillex.

      But then—

      Who really is Skrillex?

      who really is anybody?

      More philosophical questions.

      It seems time for a long ride with some hot girls—

      And, maybe—

      A call to the old “friend”

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      DILLON FRANCIS is awaiting a very important call.

      He should know something about this.

      The phone isn't ringing yet, but it will.

      DEADMAU5 crashes though the entire wall in an ARMORED SUPERCAR.

      …or that.

      — then the phone rings.

      …it's JOEL.

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      Don't worry, I hate you.

      Good, Jesus Christ.

      I'm fucking the God version of you

      in my half sleep

      More like,

      Dead on straight

      Lovemaking

      Of light proportions

      But no problem

      It is all just another portion of a program,

      Another fierce projection of obsession—

      So what?

      I have four of 'em.

      (I bore them,

      And they all ignore me.)

      I woke up this morning

      After napping in New York

      On a walkway between

      Two okay casinos in Vegas

      But don't know which ones

      Or what it's called

      Somewhere between the Encore

      And the Fashion Show

      I probably should get back, you know

      I got a court date coming up

      I'm on, New York

      It's really what you wanted

      Did I leave another Jim unattended from this show

      Oh, of course

      The Jim Crow Era!

      Now that's relevant

      And scary isn't isn't it?

      I'm sober

      But I told you, bro

      The show is over

      I gotta protect my sponsorship orders of

      Coconut water

      I work under informants

      For

      Nothing under the table

      I'm so under toxic sonic torture

      I've been disabled

      I re-upped on all the pancake

      But I'm out of maple syrup

      So here's seven for the sixes;

      I'm severing all connections,

      I'm severely out of order

      And I'm running out of water,

      Look,

      Call Mr. remarkable

      And tell him I'm in a mark up

      Had a hallmark card for Dillon's mother

      But gave it a second thought and

      Sent it as a thank you card for my aunt,

      —The original sponsor;

      And I should probably hawk or pawn the rock

      But that would be a whole total disaster,

      I fucking promise

      I T S A N A M Y T H Y S T

      So—

      Enjoy the mix;

      (It's a shit one)

      It'll be a distant and short hiatus,

      But either way, I gotta make

      Electricity and rent

      Without filling it with my purpose so,

      I gotta cut the show off

      I'm toppled over at the plaza

      Laugh at it if you will,

      But only if it's real

      I wrote my will and posted it

      I live and die inside this show

      I came to the city to live

      But it's just dying in New York

      If you go broke and only does your art support you

      — there's the notice;

      Couldn't leave you cold

      Just cause my heart is.

      [The Festival Project ™]

      The Complex Collective ©

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      L E G E N D S

      &

      Tales of a Superstar DJ

      Returns This Fall on All Platforms.

      thanks for listening.

      -Ū

      56 min
    • [IN HIATUS.]

      Competition at the country club;

      I must admit I haven't had the habit yet

      Of psyching out the competition

      But I haven't even had it yet

      I'm simply always better and ahead

      (especially in blind audiences and unpaid promotion numbers)

      Taking out the competition

      Everything is tailored custom made

      and never miss an invitation

      Simple stocks and bonds

      You've got more toxic numbers

      Groms,

      And undercrossed fingers

      Simple stocks and bongs

      You don't belong here

      But you're locked in as a blonde here

      James bond bandit

      And Jennifer Anniston's antics

      (only water and cucumber,

      Never salt or carbs

      I'm hardly even made of carbon,

      You know

      Ha

      Ha

      Ha.)

      Mr. Always.

      Mr. Present.

      Mr. Precise.

      Mr. Heaven

      Mr. Rampage

      Mr. Me, right?

      Mr. Yeah Right

      Mr. Maybe

      Mr. Mistake

      Mr. Thank You

      Mr. Please Me

      Mr. You're late

      But where's Mr. Headache?

      But where's the Kardashian?

      But where's Mr. Be Straight and On Time

      And Unconscious?

      And where's Mr. These Days?

      And where's Mr. Keep a blade in your pocket?

      Cause you're one to one with the whole lot of

      Obstacles

      So there you are again

      Throw you off your horse?

      There must be a room for this

      Or a template.

      L E G E N D S

      That leaving you have in your feeling as a heart…

      Don't want to watch to go but want

      Want

      Want

      Lost the for you wonder don't know

      Younger water but I

      Want

      Want

      Want

      Dealing with my broken parts

      Underground and in the storage room

      I don't know what's left of earth

      But last I heard of her

      The world was broken

      I want the window the closed

      But it won't minimize

      Left the top open

      Might as well have been the door

      I used to lock them,

      But not anymore

      The whole world is stolen

      V.o.

      You know that magic trick where you're bending a spoon with your mind?

      BLŪ pulls a BAKING SHEET out of the OVEN with a melted plastic spoon on it.

      This isn't like that at all.

      HANZEL

      Yu Vere Bazically Vurking Wit Nazis.

      Shh! Don't Say that!

      HANZEL CONT'D

      (Shrugging dismissively)

      Vhat. Jew Vere.

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      I got six press kits

      Costs a fee to book a gig

      Come with me you could get ditched

      Come to Vegas, Could get Hitched

      (Real Love!)

      I don't wanna take your time up,

      Cause that be some of mine, hun

      N if you're tryna find fun,

      Should probably bring the wine

      Techno but need a nine? No

      Ten, I am a diamond

      Stevie, I'm a blind ya

      Wonder if that's a low blow

      But none of that's below me

      Know you know

      I ain't your homie

      I'm the only on who know me

      Not a worry, I believe you—

      You don't need me,
      I don't need you

      Now you See me:

      No you don't—
      Hope to see me

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      The Complex Collective ©

      [The Festival Project, Inc. ™ ]

      -Ū.

      6 min
    • Lounge Set #2

      Hi, I'm Blū (DJ Ū or simply -Ū.) (pronounced “you”) and you can access my music catalogue on YouTube at https://www.YouTube.com/@thefestival project and my new website www.iamu.guru has a little more information about my project. I am also on Spotify, Amazon, and Apple Music and Tidal as well and you can find the links to those platforms on my linktr.ee/codenameblu

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      The Complex Collective ©

      [The Festival Project ™]

      -Ū.

      1 hr 20 min
    • For Fear of Shadows.

      I want to scream at you

      But even standing at my shoulder length

      My eye at your chest.

      You'd be a million miles away

      Look what I make of you.

      I have no mistakes left and still

      The fate of it is that,

      You have my gratitude, your gracious

      And yet they eat away

      At all the things I have

      And maybe there'll be more of me

      For now the morbid days are just as caving in as

      Any other making that we make of it

      Don't thank me,

      Just outrank them.

      Banking on your every moment

      Effervescent, tragic endings

      Waiting on your every scent and center

      Don't disintegrate just yet

      And now we enter impact

      Stand for circumstances

      Do work faster

      Horror horror

      Do you know the motive of her

      Former engines?

      Motive, motive

      Steer the plot or rear the message m

      Fritter fritter

      Audiences get disinterested

      So effing quickly.

      Would you mild or would you mold

      Or would you wake to fold the eggs into the bacon,

      Bread, and then tomato—

      Would you fear her message?

      Would you quick forget you're on her planet?

      Surely safe to know

      But know but knots

      And no but not again

      You bought it with your faux and auctions

      Hallmark cards

      And feathers fauxes

      Don't you know

      The faucet's only running water

      Oh you're hard predictable

      And chlorinated

      Oh the poison

      Dripping at your ways

      And wilting at your guilt

      The James

      The reckon gestures

      Reckon, Avery

      Severed by the check

      Or just the ever ending

      Never get there

      Message to a friend

      To just keep going

      When she ends it

      It is just another death

      You'll get on with it

      In the end

      Never friends.

      Never.

      Good I hate you

      Could you maybe

      Find me ugly?

      That's your money in my

      Every reaching corner

      Every angling cent

      And harsh presentations of

      Skin that's aging and

      Wages which haven't

      Coverage to front the

      Expenses,

      Crash diets

      Go broken

      Ugly cause you're course

      Everything fits

      But still empty on the inside

      I live in shredded

      Shambles of service

      But there's no gratitude

      My breath is only your own

      And this bread is my headache

      I haven't a sermon

      Or diamond

      Or unworthy

      Sex appeal

      And really only

      Ever off when

      Only ever on

      You're still demolishing the board

      You're still diminishing the severs

      Yet you neglected

      Each and every

      Crevice of this

      Never ending friendship—

      But did I ever mention there is a glass slipper

      For each and every person ever

      Just to wish one?

      Did it ever occur to you

      The circumstances you are under

      Live for it

      Or get lost

      There's really only porridge in her oven

      If the gas or turning off or over

      Don't turn over now

      The resin's covered in the

      Corvette.

      Only cause I had to

      Sense when is it

      Blood sense.

      Get laid

      Don't flinch

      Get paid

      Gold finch

      Get reckless

      I call spirits north for dinner

      South for lunch

      And up for porridge at breakfast

      I've passed on

      I've been awake

      You're mortal girl

      The one you're on is

      Really only such a small pond

      That I should think

      To cover up

      With dirt.

      Start over.

      —and Skrillex is just in the corner the whole time playing video games.

      Worst dream ever.

      But why's Seth Meyer's mad at me?

      I'm guessing he always was!

      He's people are just like that

      All conservative, conformed—

      Again, it's not your fault

      It's just uncomfortable!

      Again I only ever approached it wanting to know

      If the l broach l fits

      But even Lucille Ball won't come if I call her—

      Probably don't even got the right number

      Code of arms

      Or helm of awe, huh.

      Fuck, man.

      When's Tonight Show in hiatus

      Need you off the island, off In Prague

      And out my anus,

      Don't remind me

      I've been

      Jamie Lee Curtis

      Just recently enough

      That I miss it.

      Ugh.

      I know,

      I resent that.

      Find a line to draw

      Or fly a kite past

      I'm past my reckoning

      Just for tonight,

      The suffering ends

      Surely not enough to past the time

      Before my electrolytes fly in

      But tonight

      Just tonight

      I want to dine in my mind

      Or die alone

      Without trying to find the light—

      The neighbor simply seems to follow it.

      (At least I got her ought to not slam the door now,

      Police interventions,

      There really are cause for those.)

      What is a warfare!

      Buy me a checkmark!

      My question mark seems to go off a lot

      All for it

      God,

      You're remarkable

      I gift a heart or though

      I out all my crystals in the Rockerfeller plaza

      But still held on to an amethyst for Dillon Francis?

      There those eyes are again;

      I hate to hurt you North;

      But I'm no mother board

      Or mother ship

      Or Mother Earth

      Broke my focus long enough to call you up,

      But sure, I'm just short of even past conscious.

      Nothing's safe for us, you know.

      One one to call;

      No code of conduct–

      No safety in numbers, or color guard

      No home, and no love in our times

      For our kind–

      We're all here now

      And the wrong time

      Is all time.

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      Do you see me?

      I don't not see you.

      Well.

      Well.

      I thought there'd be more having to say.

      There's nothing to say.

      Not nothing…

      Nothing.

      Huh.

      —unless you say it.

      I've nothing to say.

      Then say nothing.

      The frog croaks,

      The oak leafs,

      The custard leaves its corridors

      The hark leaps

      The oath melts,

      The sworn have sworn

      To never mark.

      To no remose,

      To no remark;

      The carrier, and carry her—

      The fierce need,

      For Vegabonds,

      For every caper read

      Amen.

      All is spoken;

      And all in thought also in words

      All is listened

      And all has heard not in her form

      Stiff.

      You're horrified.

      You're horrifying.

      Sure, but—

      Brother—

      Broken—

      Nothing that I've never heard before

      Capable.

      Half-friend.

      Northerner.

      Cape cod.

      Hamptons.

      Fair straights.

      Ancient.

      Sacred.

      R I T U A L S

      LEGENDS:

      R I T U A L S

      OH GOD.

      No! NO! NO!

      It just keeps going!

      Thank you! Thank God. I thought it was over.

      You were invoked.

      I was implicated.

      Fun fact:

      Here's the thing.

      You were murdered.

      Ah, gains.

      Why the fuck do I never get to just choose when this happens?

      Cause you don't.

      This isn't fair! I watch 2 segments of—

      STEPHEN COLBERT enters.

      *shattered.

      Shithead.

      STEPHEN COLBERT enters shattered.

      —I was shattered when I heard about it.

      What's that?

      Never you mind.

      I didn't— I just— asked.

      He finds his way to the round table in the center of the dark room. He seems twisted; it's as if he's been blindsided.

      Capable.

      And still there's nowhere

      In here

      The city we share

      I can go

      To make the sound

      Eager to leave my soul

      As how

      I know you.

      Awkward!

      Just wait.

      You've been betrayed!

      I— know that already.

      Is this your card?

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      GET OFF THE TRAIN.

      —

      Lil bitz

      Fool. Why every time I see you, you look guilty.

      Why.

      You never look innocent at all.

      If something went down — I know it was you.

      Hide a lie;

      Can't hide a lie

      Can't tell a tell

      Can't roll the ball

      Can't bowl the strike

      Can't run at all

      Can't fool the hare

      Can't skin the cat

      Can't dance a bit

      Don't row the boat

      Can't play the role

      Don't know the tune

      Can't trim the tree

      Can't hold the bowl

      Can't kill the fowl

      Don't tell the tale.

      Hide a lie.

      Run a mile

      Taste the bile

      Fill the basket

      Now you're moron

      Now you're mortal

      That's immoral

      Jimmy Fallon

      —that's a turtle.

      Tell the lie.

      Hide the fold.

      Kill the curse;

      Sail the ark

      Fill the void

      Hate the gap

      Kill the king

      Tell the tale

      Tell a lie

      Hide the

      [The Festival Project ™]

      knife.

      In for life, or what?

      Info wars at most.

      Live to tell the tale?

      Learn to spike the punch

      Learn to punch the wall

      Lean up on the door

      Learn to most of all

      Shut the fuck up

      Keep your mouth shut

      I love New York

      Give the bad news

      Put a smile on

      Oh you gotta love it

      I get close to nothing once a month

      And then come back

      To pull the puffer out the dragon

      Goddammit what you want me for

      I learned another lesson

      Don't devour her

      All I wanted was

      Just a sour odor

      Give the last call

      I go heroin blind

      For heroine times

      And by the time it all gets darker

      I will have pulled the plug and written on the wall in

      Permanent marker.

      ugh. Fuck you.

      Fuck The Doors.

      Fuck your chorus.

      Fuck your archer.

      Fuck, you found I.

      I all for her,

      Shoot the wombat;

      —But the door shuts on its own

      Without it getting harder, now.

      Don't it?

      Donut.

      i don't—

      Belt buckle.

      Belt buckle.

      Belt buckle.

      Belt buckle.

      I—

      Belt buckle.

      Belt buckle.

      Belt buckle.

      Belt buckle.

      I—

      Belt Buckle

      Belt buckle.

      Belt buckle.

      Belt buckle.

      I don't—

      Belt buckle—

      Belt buckle.

      Belt buckle.

      Okay.

      I—

      Belt buckle.

      Belt buckle.

      Belt buckle.

      Belt buckle.

      I—

      Belt Buckle

      Belt buckle.

      Belt buckle.

      Belt buckle.

      I don't—

      Belt buckle—

      Belt buckle.

      Belt buckle.

      Can I contour?

      Not even one episode

      Or epicenter

      Even for a lonely

      I got the warning

      For your magnitude before

      So what you want

      It's just a test

      Pacific coast

      Or night crawler

      Nightmare or

      Nightfall

      You swore you won't

      I do desire not a lover

      But a hand to hold

      And father for my own

      So.

      Shove it up your

      Probably want a

      I don't need disaster warning

      What you wanted

      Limoncello

      Light waves

      And light gave a damn

      I have a dance

      I cave to for

      And there you are

      Just a horrible oar,

      Now I row the boat

      But you don't disaster

      Nor could you decide to divorce her

      Even if I ever worked

      At Art gallery

      Organizers

      God, you wore her sweater

      Just to make it all seem rather backwards

      If perchance I ran my hand just over

      All the soft

      Love in the world

      Are you not a dozen roses?

      To far my flames

      I gave you my heart

      Flower

      Done moving

      Don't moon

      Did you really pay the neighbor

      Just to hate me

      Haven't you heard

      On our earth

      There's turf war?

      So far, white doves

      But no lost wolves,

      Poor pigeons, following

      Of course you were hard wired

      I hate not once

      But all times the hurt

      Each time I struck

      Sure I want for California

      And Equinox saunas

      And then no more do I run the tub!

      But for now as I soak and the roach prowls,

      I get my motion under the water,

      Sure form and no more fire till the moon comes up who rose at dusk?

      Likely or lite brawl

      Sire,

      You care to hard work

      But you desire awful

      I was right in all forms

      Now I die here

      Your knife and all you are

      Feels right as blood pours out

      I want but only suffer

      Your call could only burden

      My tie to fall a lark

      Cries

      Out

      In

      To

      Her

      Arms you fall and I desire

      I desire

      I now

      Have a heart to cry

      I died, sir.

      You won.

      How awful.

      Just a nugget of truth,

      This window of lies,

      A mask so broken

      And yet in the cracks there, my mirror

      My shadow

      My hard times

      Out to work

      And off to war

      And what you wanted

      No, not outside

      Inside love

      But nevermind that

      Now the blood pours out and sweet,

      I thank to this relief and finally

      Rest, I.

      No longer shall I mourn your love to not

      And know the guilt is slain in you anew, my heart

      Dear shadow, youth becomes my blood

      And dear far cry,

      Dear boy you,

      Wait to know me in again another

      There came and withered and your force

      Now knows mine,

      Never end and tethered,

      There I wait, then

      Now I blood and dreaming, sleeping in

      Your pure,

      Decency.

      I have strike and so wait my end;

      And you, go on,

      Now without my voice.

      A harp.

      Welcome to Ecuador.

      What are you doing here?

      I grow bananas.

      Every once in awhile

      I have you over

      For a cocktail

      Or five.

      Every night

      I tighten my eyes on you,

      Thoughts.

      Every space in time

      Is just a collar

      Dog

      A bark.

      Every time you call

      I still come over

      Though you do not want,

      I opposite.

      You see,

      You are time.

      I see you now, God.

      I feel your heart, I

      Can involve

      My lips quaking

      Your worried me

      My fall, right?

      Why—

      I belong in your eye,

      Why,

      Heart my home,

      I,

      Never go.

      Never not.

      Bullet to a gun

      For to wish I'm not awake

      And to dream though seek, I call

      And to worry

      Wishes swimming

      Thunder rolls and

      Hard I fall

      So wait and weather

      Weather storm

      And feather.

      You know I'm locked, and fault

      Too consumed by news cameras

      Noise tied around my,

      Neck your beck and call

      My battered back

      And there is she

      All I am not

      And movement,

      You controller

      Red and virtuous

      Are thy neither my friend,

      Nor foe,

      Nor narrow and the neck, dripping

      The feet, and defeated I am in my shallow

      Your wish is my make her

      I make thy for glory

      She the golden trophy,

      Truth, you will not with,

      These, you will decanter

      Encounter; or

      I slay you in my motion

      I say your name and sheild thy slain

      And there you are, a force

      And here she comes, a brain

      My greying matter;

      Your Tuesday, Wednesday

      She fears me not

      One, two, four blue eyes

      I'm nothing now

      Six blondes, four heartaches

      I rung, you wanted

      I eat, you shatter

      I starve, you know me

      Then in the waste

      My waist till not your honor

      And so, I go

      And she

      And she

      And she

      And she

      Eighty five and one divine

      But all are yours

      And yours are mine

      So then.

      We have killed her.

      And there, she lay slain,

      And ye, we rejoice

      And yet, we became

      To seize, none has not

      To breathe, yet remains—

      The truth comes our time,

      As body decays.

      Fuck. I don't think that was it.

      Nevermind.

      *fixed it .

      {Enter The Multiverse}

      The Complex Collective ©

      [The Festival Project ™]

      -Ū.

      3 min

    About [ENTER THE MULTIVERSE]

    From the publisher's feed

    The Festival Project, Inc.™ is a multidimensional multimedia platform which encompasses exploratory and artistic social personifications and expressions on cosmic theory, spirituality, growth, health & wellness, philosophy and theoretic dynamics in entertainment such as music, design, film, television, radio, dance and festival culture, art, fashion, literature, and science.