[ENTER THE MULTIVERSE]

I don't want to feel you

I don't want to know you

I don't want to lay here

By your side

As you cry

At night

I don't want to feel you

I don't want to love you

I don't want to owe you a letter

I don't want to decay you

Don't you know

That I have

Already betrayed you

You don't.

You don't know anything

Your pretty little words are just

The fear in my heart

[The Festival Project ™ ]

Turns out,

I only sing when I'm sad

I feel bad when I'm in trouble

Can't escape but have to smoothie it

Stroke the engines

But I tend to choke otherwise

Nothing right now sounds better than chocolate

I suppose

I'll settle on

Some Simple structure

I suppose

I'll get along

With

Why can't I be the girl in the songs that they sing about!

Can't get it out of my head

But still I sing along

As if the skinny pretty

Fragile porcelain things

They need

And sing about

Could ever be me

She could never be me

So I'm evil

But she's the straight up devil

Yes I strain to smile

But rarely do I sprain and ankle

I've been praying for departure

The city, country is just torture

I should really comb my hair though

I tend to cry my eyes out

Then pretend I'm not

But you're pretentious

I can't even get a job.

{Enter The Multiverse}

The Complex Collective ©

[The Festival Project ™]

-Ū.

Yesterday I jogged 3 miles watching 30 Rock.

I don't know where I've gone besides deeper in my mind and somehow further from The Rock itself.

Maybe I should turn my treadmill facing west.

Running in the direction of Queens is bringing me extreme discomfort.

This is at the level of functionality that everything seems impossible.

I'm tired from the moment I wake up, and yet struggle to fall asleep, even in the earliest of morning when I know the only quiet in the day will come.

Everything is upsetting, and I miss my mantras;

But nothing comes but the silence of the brain

When I'm not filling the void with sitcom antics and the subtle romance.

Tales of a Superstar DJ

The Complex Collective © Copyright 2019

[The Festival Project ™]

-Ū.

Lil bitz

I applied for a job as a high end furniture sales person.

Then they asked how much experience I had in high end furniture sales.

I told them five.

“I consider myself high-end furniture.”

{Enter The Multiverse}

ROBERT DINERO

You are you very well behaved.

Who'd you get.

‘Science.'

Physics?

No, it just says “science”

Oh, I get it…

What's to get.

You're in the—ahem—

What is it?

Special class.

What.

Guess what.

[the class sits in confused silence.]

YOU are special!

[they remain silent]

You are all special!

[nothing]

You are special—

You are special—

Thanks, T. I owe you one.

One doesn't cover it!

L E G E N D S

—especially you, Jimmy.

Which one?

The teacher looks over the roll; there are three pages of ‘Jimmy', many of whom even have the same last initial.

…all of you.

[The Festival Project ™]

WILL FERREL has changed his do-rag, but not the attitude, or somewhat offensive cultural habits that seem to have come with it.

You better come correct!

I am correct!

Oh god. Is this what that dream meant.

Somebody's been having lucid dreams.

…so let's talk about this.

I would rather not.

I tend to treat my podcast audience like a therapy session. That way they know I'm messed up and broken just like them— like everybody else.

But somehow, that doesn't translate onstage.

It's Tuesday.

I know that.

Turn over, Timmy!

No way!

Just do it!

JOSH is certain “Timmy Turner” is actually his old pal DRAKE; he'll only know for sure, however, by checking that he still is branded, with the scar from “the bull riding incident

Are we doing a flashback.

Not yet, but maybe— I don't know if we can afford it,

I said NO.

Please.

Negatory.

{Entet the Multiverse}

Scribble scribble;

I love Jimmy Kimmel

I just put the joker to the riddle

Dribble dribble

Ball like Jimmy Kimmel

I just put the cat onto the fiddle

I like temperature like double digits

I get mentions every time I finish

Had to cut my mama off

Cause it don't matter

Had to cut my neighbor off

That's a door slammer

Had to file a report

That'sadult matters

Cause I'm building a rapport—

That a dope mansion

I be keepin it dark;

That I don't mention

I ain't in the army

But I give em my attention

That's a limp biscuit

I did it then I didn't

Impress if I'm presenten'

Depressessed if I'm regressan

{Enter The Multiverse}

The Complex Collective ©

[The Festival Project ™]

-Ū.

Suddenly seeing in these sepia tones

Stuck up in a glass house

But I throw stones

Hold up I lost something

This brother says stuff like he's not done yet

I'm really not the one yet

Haven't gotten up yet

Long ass nap

Like a death coma

I regret Roma

Only cause I end up a New Yorker

More work but yet broker

Unless you corrupt

Or a stock broker

Believe it

Thanks for dancing on my grave.

That really made me take a second thought to give it another go,

So you wanna be a movie star, ah?

I am— already a star.

But a movie star.

{Enter The Multiverse}

Look, this is your third wife already!

Watch it!

You should be behind bars!

Well why aren't I, then?

I was trying to be polite!

Be quiet, then.

Look—

Food, please.

There is no amount of damage control you can run on this— it's out of your control.

(Eating uncontrollably, mouth full.)

Nothing is out of my control.

I said—

Nothing!

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project, Inc. ™]

The Complex Collective ©

-Ū.

I know the man in the chair

By his eyes

And the course of the road

And the cause of his numbers,

I know very odd, very sure, very well— and yes,

I know the strings, and the things

And the force of control

And the conduct, the code

Yes, I know not to leave him alone

And we're all full of wonder, here

Of the wonder years,

But where are you, dear?

Cause it's four in the morning—

I'm cold, and I'm lonely—

I'm shocked and forgotten

It's four in the morning

And no,

I'm still not going home.

It's four in the morning

And only just know have I thought

Or a plate full of warmth

And the touch of her fondness

But all oaths,

Cause I took a lover this morning

Another tomorrow

And on, look—

I can't come home until Sunday

(What? I'm building you up!)

And I know I've gone soft

But you know not to

Dollop until I tell you I'm coming

Don't you!

That's a gallop;

There's a Dillon

Where I dare you;

Did you hear ‘em?

These are harems

There's a villain forming

A sweet informant

A node oriental

And no, I meant all of the foam drip on coffee

It's

Not

Out

Of

Bounds until I say you will

My daffodil

Then I fold you into pieces

With my peace

It says

“I'm eating you for supper”

Here goes Saturday for nothing

I still haven't made the cast list

Don't get so far up your marker

That you forgot

That the stars are all going under

Burning out

And ownership of businesses

Other than subscription payments

Mortgages and high interests—

Give the internet good riddance

Or else get lost

Like your appendix

This is

Kurt Sutter?

No, John Carson!

You think you're smart for a marker

And sabertooth tiger

I got no arguments besides building monuments

You wanted us?

Worshipped!

Now all of a sudden while on earth

All reincarnated at once

Almost all of ye's study or praise

No Gods, though you walk among us!

Keep it open

sesame seed buns

I haven't seen you

In your open

No subtronics

I don't bother

No blue eyes

Tight skin

Small stomach

Thin waste

Paper

See through

Just waste

Wait

I'm a trash bag

Non returnable

No refundable

Still not gonna do you harm enough

If you didn't bought it

Still though

Awful convenience

Here's my sandwhich

I just backed up into a fire hydrant

High as a kite

But you all know

I'm so much hotter and fun

Than the other one—

Goddamn,

But at least she's funny

And as long as you want me first

I'll love you and her

Forever.

—Annie.

Don't got a gun;

Then I'd be gone

I don't belong here

I write songs for a living

You know;

No more home for you!

No more going nowhere

If you don't wear Prada

Here yellow canary

You're only a little pretty bird

Cause if I hear you stop singing at all

I know we're all done for—

Run!

It's a gas le—

(AK)

[They blow up. ]

COPYRIGHT THE FESTiVAL PROJECT, INC. ™ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[The Festival Project ™]

The Complex Collective ©

-Ū.

flash— bang

Can't believe I'm lying there like

Flash—bang

What a mess I've got us into

Flash—bang

In and out of all dimensions

I can barely pay attention

I was standing in my kitchen

Then it's straight to intermission

(Something like a nasa mission)

Flash—bang

I think this thing is dangerous

I can't sing

I'm tone deaf as Mr. Kimmel

Flash— bang

Off like a grenade

And then I'm off like Walton Goggins—

“Shane!”

Or did someone say action?!

Might be going crazy

Or just famous

Or delayed.

I'm in Grenada.

—Bird Internet.

Written by C'cxell Soleïl

Prod. by Blū Tha Gürū

-Ū.

BGI

TAPPED

Sometimes, I write in Lin cadences

Sometimes I pass time with Jim Fallon,

I write behind closed eyes and white bars,

Pigeons and white doves,

While I get made fun of

I tried to just let bygones by bygones

But I can't cause I miss my son

And there's no love in the bottom of class wars

And harsh poverty;

there's no brotherly love

And New York just don't want me here

Is this your card?!

No motherfucker!

Oh.

Goddamn.

You are bad at this.

I thought I was! I told you I was.

You are! Now, scram.

What color is your magnitude?

You failed!

I told you I don't know my own songs form Adam!

That wasn't me?

No?

Crap. It's jammed.

Well, throw a rock at him!

THE SNIPERS throw a rock at DIPLO; unassumingly and (sort of) by complete coincidence, this rock just happens to be the CAPSULOUS ILLUMINATUS—

(And he is mad.)

Huh.

Ohh. Shitballs.

(Very mad.)

Not only is he mad— which is hilarious— but as he becomes enraged, beginning to hulk out of his “zen zone”

Isn't it obvious?

Zen zone?

What a complete douchebag.

I'm so serious.

V.O

Tales of a superstar DJ

Alice In Wonderland was in my dream last night,

But she had big blonde bushy Slavic eyebrows and I just… somehow.. didn't know what to make of that.

I HAVE A TALE!

No, you don't actually.

Sit down and shut the fuck up!

BAMPHERAMPH CAMP is going splendid.

*complete decapitation*

—gorgeous.

Meanwhile.

As it turns out…

I have something to tell you.

PLAY COMPLICATIONS ONE MORE TIME. I FUCKING DARE YOU.

DEADMAU5 has created quite possibly the very first sonic time bomb—

FIRST EVER?

I TOLD YOU GET OUT OF HERE.

YES FIRST EVER.

BEFORE:

Sniffs…

Pauses

*Tiny Sips*

*sniffs again*

*squinting, dissatisfied*

…I sense Deadmau5 in this Skrillex.

BUTLER

You would be correct.

{ENTER THE MULTIVERSE}

Wait. Who the fuck is Steve Duda?

Bro, I told you my name was Steve!

OH!

Tales of a Superstar DJ

I thought you were joking.

I'm not joking. Where's the pancakes?!

I'm out!

Why is this place so clean?! Ugh!

You haven't been around— or— like—

Nonsense.

Hey wait— last time you were imaginary.

Uh, no, I wasn't.

Yes, you were literally just—

“In your head”

Yeah!

That's not a thing.

What.

Get over that.

What.

Everything is real, everything is extreme…

Are you also out of OATMEAL?

Almost, obviously!

—ly real! Ugh! And cream of wheat?

I've been— I was getting fat.

THATS HOW GOOD MUSIC IS MADE. IN STORED ENERGY.

I have—

*bacterially is critically low*

*lights flickering*

*sirens wailing*

*time crumbling*

*phone dies*

Ugh.

Look. Uh—

STEVE.

Uh…let's just say Larry—

My name is STEVE! I told you that!

I imagined you differently, okay, and I thought ‘Steve' was just deadmau5 being pranky.

It is!

What?

It's a thing! Look it up.

Oh shit. The Ace.

I told you that dude was sketchy!

Wait, which Ace.

Of Spades.

Ah shit.

Is this your—

No!

Ah?

Well, wait…

Wait what?

Wait. A second.

Wait what?

…this…that is my card.

Is it?

Yes…

*vanishes*

WHAT THE—

L E G E N D S

Our Next Segment is called

“Who wrote that joke?”

So I'm wondering about—

That Hindu joke in season 5 of 30 Rock

“Oh my God.”

“Which one? “

“I'm going to make you regret your own birth“

“Which one?”

COPYRIGHT THE FESTiVAL PROJECT, INC. ™ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[The Festival Project ™]

The Complex Collective ©

-Ū.

BGI

TAPPED

Sometimes, I write in Lin cadences

Sometimes I pass time with Jim Fallon,

I write behind closed eyes and white bars,

Pigeons and white doves,

While I get made fun of

I tried to just let bygones by bygones

But I can't cause I miss my son

And there's no love in the bottom of class wars

And harsh poverty;

there's no brotherly love

And New York just don't want me here

Is this your card?!

No motherfucker!

Oh.

Goddamn.

You are bad at this.

I thought I was! I told you I was.

You are! Now, scram.

What color is your magnitude?

You failed!

I told you I don't know my own songs form Adam!

That wasn't me?

No?

Crap. It's jammed.

Well, throw a rock at him!

THE SNIPERS throw a rock at DIPLO; unassumingly and (sort of) by complete coincidence, this rock just happens to be the CAPSULOUS ILLUMINATUS—

(And he is mad.)

Huh.

Ohh. Shitballs.

(Very mad.)

Not only is he mad— which is hilarious— but as he becomes enraged, beginning to hulk out of his “zen zone”

Isn't it obvious?

Zen zone?

What a complete douchebag.

I'm so serious.

V.O

Tales of a superstar DJ

Alice In Wonderland was in my dream last night,

But she had big blonde bushy Slavic eyebrows and I just… somehow.. didn't know what to make of that.

I HAVE A TALE!

No, you don't actually.

Sit down and shut the fuck up!

BAMPHERAMPH CAMP is going splendid.

*complete decapitation*

—gorgeous.

Meanwhile.

As it turns out…

I have something to tell you.

PLAY COMPLICATIONS ONE MORE TIME. I FUCKING DARE YOU.

DEADMAU5 has created quite possibly the very first sonic time bomb—

FIRST EVER?

I TOLD YOU GET OUT OF HERE.

YES FIRST EVER.

BEFORE:

Sniffs…

Pauses

*Tiny Sips*

*sniffs again*

*squinting, dissatisfied*

…I sense Deadmau5 in this Skrillex.

BUTLER

You would be correct.

{ENTER THE MULTIVERSE}

Wait. Who the fuck is Steve Duda?

Bro, I told you my name was Steve!

OH!

Tales of a Superstar DJ

I thought you were joking.

I'm not joking. Where's the pancakes?!

I'm out!

Why is this place so clean?! Ugh!

You haven't been around— or— like—

Nonsense.

Hey wait— last time you were imaginary.

Uh, no, I wasn't.

Yes, you were literally just—

“In your head”

Yeah!

That's not a thing.

What.

Get over that.

What.

Everything is real, everything is extreme…

Are you also out of OATMEAL?

Almost, obviously!

—ly real! Ugh! And cream of wheat?

I've been— I was getting fat.

THATS HOW GOOD MUSIC IS MADE. IN STORED ENERGY.

I have—

*bacterially is critically low*

*lights flickering*

*sirens wailing*

*time crumbling*

*phone dies*

Ugh.

Look. Uh—

STEVE.

Uh…let's just say Larry—

My name is STEVE! I told you that!

I imagined you differently, okay, and I thought ‘Steve' was just deadmau5 being pranky.

It is!

What?

It's a thing! Look it up.

Oh shit. The Ace.

I told you that dude was sketchy!

Wait, which Ace.

Of Spades.

Ah shit.

Is this your—

No!

Ah?

Well, wait…

Wait what?

Wait. A second.

Wait what?

…this…that is my card.

Is it?

Yes…

*vanishes*

WHAT THE—

L E G E N D S

Our Next Segment is called

“Who wrote that joke?”

So I'm wondering about—

That Hindu joke in season 5 of 30 Rock

“Oh my God.”

“Which one? “

“I'm going to make you regret your own birth“

“Which one?”

COPYRIGHT THE FESTiVAL PROJECT, INC. ™ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[The Festival Project ™]

The Complex Collective ©

-Ū.

Did you ever get the feeling that it might be right?

Cause I woke up in the shit,

And then I paid attention with resentment

Had this Patrick for a second amidst the witching hour

For a glitch or an instance power,

The list, with a mix of here and now

Or here and there

Whatever you rather, Dan

But I guess for now you call me

Hamm,

Cause I will Jon' you in an hour

After all the words have been said

Over and over again, you just get cleverer with em

Face it,

This is considerable damages if by admission

I have to press this red button

Every time I take a dump

Because of these microagressions

And blatent intimidations,

Racism and hatred,

Cause somebody thinks it's okay

To attack me when I'm naked

And the justification is just that

Genetically and empathetically

One of us is deficit in the other—

Guess which one

How does it feel

To feel

And be real

Or be realized

So what's the deal

With this meal

And the plan

To dance on the attacks

Of your ancestors

What's on the middle besides resentment

And a clearer picture or each and every or other infinite spectrum?

What's the problem with the problem with the kids today?

They aren't that smart

But they sure look good

The problem is,

They're all talk,

All mouth, and no thoughts

{Enter The Multiverse}

Is there more?

It appears so.

Oh…

(He takes a long and heavy drink)

Its in here too, isn't it?

Yes, its—everywhere, sir.

All of a sudden, I'm sir to you?

I feel as though there may be some impending legal action, and I'm just asserting my loyalty and respect so as to “go down with the ship.” If need be, uh…

Well!

…sir.

You are a good page, aren't you?

I hope so.

Yeah.

[The Festival Project ™}

Ugh, I don't have time for this right now.

VICKY MANSON is gross.

She is a 45-year-old chain smoking trailer trash homebody who tends to menace others behind the “safety” of her computer keyboard, frequenting facebook to rage about email issues like politics and celebrity gossip, still attempting to torment Timmy Turner via trolling him using various social media outlets.

She's been called to “Watch” TIMMY, serving out his house arrest sentence while his DAD leaves to attend POKER.

{Enter The Multiverse)

Copyright The Collective Complex ©

[The Festival Project, Inc. ™]

© 2025 All Rights Reserved

-Ū.

____

Omg. This is out of line.

Agreed.

Call regina.

RE-GIIIIIIII-NAAAA!!!

She ain't come

Call again!

[opening the window, yelling out into the project housing courtyard and echoing into all of existence.]

REEGINAAAAAAAAAA!

[The Festival Project ™]

What. Damn. I was just gettin' my weave pressed…and dish soap.

I love that new deli.

Mm. Hmm.

{Enter The Multiverse}

We come from the ghetto

We lived in each borough

We live in every corner

We live in these streets

We loud in this bitch

We proud in this bitch

Don't come round this bitch

Without a pot to piss in

Taking pictures? Bitch,

As God as my witness,

A snitch is a snitch

(but in a limited capacity,

I get it,

I'll help you win this,

Ain't no case dismissed in this settlement

This disturbance is egregious,

Believe me,

I've been causing a scene since

3 AM!

Dayum!

I might be somewhat prolific,

Or even a genius,

But right now I just want peace,

A Peloton Ride

And A peanut butter and Jelly sandwich

But weight, i'm out of peanut butter

My weight is getting out of hand,

Don't know if that's a gangstalker,

Or just another obsessive fan,

Object, your honor to pardon

your direct justification of this heinous hatred

I'm helping the gentrification efforts and also

Directly affected by them,

Because i'm african american

(Or half)

But what is half to a racist?

I take it as nothing less than hatred

if each and every time I bathe

Satan comes out to play

And hey,

Isn't it harassment if every time i'm in the bathroom

The door slams, and this whore yaps

Right outside my door

To cause hate and bait me into

Further establishing a race war,

When all I wanted was a sauna,

But i know i can't afford it,

And I love New York,

But honestly,

I'm poor,

So i just got bored with it.

I probably should have been aborted.

To this, a glitch—

A wish that I could just

Push my forehead into his chest,

I digress, though repressed sexually and interested

This sickness is just what he senses as sensual

—And I'm understanding of that.

—Purpose.

I still have four muses,

Four mouses,

No heads

A sad nd four robots

Four hoses of cards

And no forwards

Just haloy endings

That

I can't

Exactly plan yet

Fuck this planet

It appears someone has badly damaged it

No recompenses or divorce

No compared,

No doors,

And no cubords

No,

Just dead bird in a box

Covered in plaster

And a disasterous ride

With no happy ever after exactly

Just another adventure in wonderland

And wonder if perhaps

You ever could even

Know who I am

What a clever disaster

For sure this serves as serious

Let's just get this

The the rumble or the severed train above her is still somewhat of a numbing

To the other corruption under

This, too then, is a lesson unless

It just ends and let it simmer

But remember,

If it isn't in her

It'll be another

Fondant farewell,

When the dinner gets to convection temperatures in the oven,

And you're not over her

The dozens of doves and boxes of chocolate don't hold nothing to the love you have and the hand you hold

And the heart you touch,

So don't let it turn cold

Don't let it turn over and thump either

Don't let it burn

And don't let it lower into

Where you mind goes

When you consider another

And another

Over or rather

You know?

Just aim for Satan and everything's great then.

Put a cap to a cape then and everything degrades,

Fair wealth, good culture, good heart,

And all focus

It goes out the window to dance with the wolves l

Like a bowl full of nothing but meal worms,

Not oats

Look closer over your breakfast

You never know even if you can trust your own mother at four years old

But good, god, thank god for the Honor roll

Or else how else would the world know mid you were at all all worth it at all of four

And still under par,

The gold course, of course

Is all you know

Don't let it go now

When all you have

Is time in your hands

Distractions are hard handed

But actual damage?

Now, that's hard pass

You wanted a song so much

Just so the wrong world would call you up

For hurting our kind

Without ever having known what my mother named me mor why I have to change it

Or what the baby calls me

From so far north in a place calls home

But I'm still not not

So you get your rocks

Slamming the door

I'm at the rock

In my mind

Hoping for

Something better

You

Wasted

All

My

Time

Over

What!

Don't you know

How hard it is

To be anything in the world

But a pretty white slut!

What a knife in the back

What a curse on the world—

Just to start wars so it never works out

Or at the very worst

Just keeps the first one going

It doesn't get awesome

Until I For Real

Can block out the whole world

Just to upset another?

No

I came in peace

You made me anxious

Hold in my waste

At the aim of your hatred

I heart my hard earned

But now I've got nothing more

Than the scars on your over opinionated

Over offended

War cries for her justice

But only if it out does mine,

Right?

Actually,

Fuck it

I'm over it

That's all the words I'm gonna waste on this till bitch

You wanted my energy, so you stole it

But becareful of

What follows it

—you're welcome.

My license is revoked

I've forgotten long ago by now how to break stroke

And it's just a throat scratch,

A dark dive

And I'm trying to try it out a bit

But love's a bitch

And I don't really ever speak her language

I've been distant and lost in translation, and most of all

Impatient with the amount of time that it's taking

Cause I hate that guy, he's a fly in my space thst just doesn't seem to go away until they mate and lay eggs to replace them.

Ugh.

It just goes on,

It's whatever the buzz

It's just all full of lamb and the talk of the town

Is who you are now

So, how I found out?

A roundabout kick to the ass

And a fax to the mayor,

Before I realized

He seems like a complete hater, bro.

I have an eight year old,

But I haven't seen him since he was five

And I think I'm gonna die

Cause everyone's nickel and diming me

And all I happened to find

Is a single penny, so that—

Two hours of mixing,

Once cent I made—

By now he definitely hates me

And has been trained to think I'm crazy

But these days, living paycheck to oaucheck is a thankless job

And the techno snobs are responsible for the upkeep of auschwitz.

It seems like a colored woman with a dream should just

Get behind the scenes

Or a man that sees meaning in her

So this is demeaning? Is it?

Am I green, or am I greenlit— l

And I clean, or am I cleaning

Should I Charlie, or should I Sheen it?

I could admit I seen it coming but I wanted to disagree with it,

It's psychic intuition but all it is is kicking my ass

Like I'm inside or the telivison.

What's my last name!?

I'm the hat man!

Are you happy?

No, I'm sad man l!

And quite thirsty;

Is it Thursday yet

Or should I should I just get to drinking anywayy

I hate all this thinking anyway;

I miss l LA but seen it from the scenic route;

I used to sleep on the bus and the train,

But what I really want is a house

And just to be left alone,

Some grass to mow,

And some to smoke,

And a tree to grow,

Just like the one from Pocahontas

OH SHIT YO.

Why, Hello Friend!

Oh, this is where that Treepeople thing was going?

Yes!

No.

No?

No.

No why.

Cause we went broke .

Went broke what.

Trying to get you to— you know—

No,

I don't I know.

You don't know?

No? I've no idea…

Oh; that's right, you haven't got a clue.

{enter the multiverse)}

what did you do at that afterparty Stephen?!

I TOLD YOU, I DONT KNOW!!!!

What does a girl have to do to get a little attention around here?!

Here, have some liquid courage.

Liquid courage!?

Yeah!

What's in this?

oh, you know…

No, I don't….

You—

Why does it glow

Yeah, I does that!

Oh my god, it looks like one of those sparkle— lava lamps!

Oh my god, yeah, you know.

I'm not drinking that.

Doesn't seem— drinkable.

But it is— drinkable.

Just because you can put it in your mouth and swallow it doesn't make it consumable.

Oh—doesn't it?

[beat]

…You know what.

That's fair!

—it— yeah.

You walked right into thst one.

I— yeah.

So come on?

It got sparkles in it? What are these flecks.

For all you know, it's bio degradable?

Is that a gold fish at the bottom?!

If he can handle it?!

How are you alive?

The goldfish to be fair seems tmmore alive than he should, perhaps. He looks the woman directly into the eye. He seems extremely concious even.

Oh wow.

Come on!

Ok. Fine.

But what do you do with the fish when the bottle's empty?

I don't know. Never finished a bottle.

What!

Never really…though about it.

Okay?

So! Come on.

He pours a shot.

Shift changed ,

I should have made arrangements for a date at an earlier time

But really there isn't a reason or realization to it

I hate playing the game

It must have been an off day when I made it up

But that was so long ago now.

I haven't put hard thought about it,

But forgot I had further options to stop the violence than just talking about it

I missed the opportunity to photog or model

By tomorrow morning I'll be a little smaller

But still broken

If I think of any of those thoughts

My heart opens up and swallows me whole

Talk about a dilemma and not a problem

I would probably dress as such as doll

If I could afford the money

But I'm dollar for dollar

Out of dogital storage for my thoughts and performances.

You know.

So show your age, Nicki Minaj

And Migos, the flash flooding

Benito is bad Bunny,

But you gotta go with the flow of the whitewater

With the high collars and high bars

If you are so highly throughout of

To win an award

And be obsessed over

by other famous people's

Lil bitz

I told my ex I joined the army.

My gigs kept having weird shit happen. I was like “something's not right.”

I thought it was my ex trying to do oojabooja on me.

So I told him I joined the army

to try to see if the weird shit kept happening.

I told that fool I joined the army

— I didn't Say what army!

Gods army bitatch!!!

You the devil!

Stop fuckin up my shit!

It's 5 PM

I'm waking up

It's setting in

That it's a contruct

Not a curse,

But there's no cure

The demon days

The auto wars

As darkness falls upon us

The Red Dawn soon becomes us

OMG! RYAN SEACREST! Everyone forgot about you!

I–thanks! *weird smile*

Quickly! Get on the bus! We're already on our way to pick up K-FED.

COPYRIGHT THE FESTiVAL PROJECT, INC. ™ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[The Festival Project ™]

The Complex Collective ©

-Ū.

To this, a glitch—

A wish that I could just

Push my forehead into his chest,

I digress, though repressed sexually and interested

This sickness is just what he senses as sensual

—And I'm understanding of that.

—Purpose.

I still have four muses,

Four mouses,

No heads

A sad nd four robots

Four hoses of cards

And no forwards

Just haloy endings

That

I can't

Exactly plan yet

Fuck this planet

It appears someone has badly damaged it

No recompenses or divorce

No compared,

No doors,

And no cubords

No,

Just dead bird in a box

Covered in plaster

And a disasterous ride

With no happy ever after exactly

Just another adventure in wonderland

And wonder if perhaps

You ever could even

Know who I am

What a clever disaster

For sure this serves as serious

Let's just get this

The the rumble or the severed train above her is still somewhat of a numbing

To the other corruption under

This, too then, is a lesson unless

It just ends and let it simmer

But remember,

If it isn't in her

It'll be another

Fondant farewell,

When the dinner gets to convection temperatures in the oven,

And you're not over her

The dozens of doves and boxes of chocolate don't hold nothing to the love you have and the hand you hold

And the heart you touch,

So don't let it turn cold

Don't let it turn over and thump either

Don't let it burn

And don't let it lower into

Where you mind goes

When you consider another

And another

Over or rather

You know?

Just aim for Satan and everything's great then.

Put a cap to a cape then and everything degrades,

Fair wealth, good culture, good heart,

And all focus

It goes out the window to dance with the wolves l

Like a bowl full of nothing but meal worms,

Not oats

Look closer over your breakfast

You never know even if you can trust your own mother at four years old

But good, god, thank god for the Honor roll

Or else how else would the world know mid you were at all all worth it at all of four

And still under par,

The gold course, of course

Is all you know

Don't let it go now

When all you have

Is time in your hands

Distractions are hard handed

But actual damage?

Now, that's hard pass

You wanted a song so much

Just so the wrong world would call you up

For hurting our kind

Without ever having known what my mother named me mor why I have to change it

Or what the baby calls me

From so far north in a place calls home

But I'm still not not

So you get your rocks

Slamming the door

I'm at the rock

In my mind

Hoping for

Something better

You

Wasted

All

My

Time

Over

What!

Don't you know

How hard it is

To be anything in the world

But a pretty white slut!

What a knife in the back

What a curse on the world—

Just to start wars so it never works out

Or at the very worst

Just keeps the first one going

It doesn't get awesome

Until I For Real

Can block out the whole world

Just to upset another?

No

I came in peace

You made me anxious

Hold in my waste

At the aim of your hatred

I heart my hard earned

But now I've got nothing more

Than the scars on your over opinionated

Over offended

War cries for her justice

But only if it out does mine,

Right?

Actually,

Fuck it

I'm over it

That's all the words I'm gonna waste on this till bitch

You wanted my energy, so you stole it

But becareful of

What follows it

—you're welcome.

My license is revoked

I've forgotten long ago by now how to break stroke

And it's just a throat scratch,

A dark dive

And I'm trying to try it out a bit

But love's a bitch

And I don't really ever speak her language

I've been distant and lost in translation, and most of all

Impatient with the amount of time that it's taking

Cause I hate that guy, he's a fly in my space thst just doesn't seem to go away until they mate and lay eggs to replace them.

Ugh.

It just goes on,

It's whatever the buzz

It's just all full of lamb and the talk of the town

Is who you are now

So, how I found out?

A roundabout kick to the ass

And a fax to the mayor,

Before I realized

He seems like a complete hater, bro.

I have an eight year old,

But I haven't seen him since he was five

And I think I'm gonna die

Cause everyone's nickel and diming me

And all I happened to find

Is a single penny, so that—

Two hours of mixing,

Once cent I made—

By now he definitely hates me

And has been trained to think I'm crazy

But these days, living paycheck to oaucheck is a thankless job

And the techno snobs are responsible for the upkeep of auschwitz.

It seems like a colored woman with a dream should just

Get behind the scenes

Or a man that sees meaning in her

So this is demeaning? Is it?

Am I green, or am I greenlit— l

And I clean, or am I cleaning

Should I Charlie, or should I Sheen it?

I could admit I seen it coming but I wanted to disagree with it,

It's psychic intuition but all it is is kicking my ass

Like I'm inside or the telivison.

What's my last name!?

I'm the hat man!

Are you happy?

No, I'm sad man l!

And quite thirsty;

Is it Thursday yet

Or should I should I just get to drinking anywayy

I hate all this thinking anyway;

I miss l LA but seen it from the scenic route;

I used to sleep on the bus and the train,

But what I really want is a house

And just to be left alone,

Some grass to mow,

And some to smoke,

And a tree to grow,

Just like the one from Pocahontas

OH SHIT YO.

Why, Hello Friend!

Oh, this is where that Treepeople thing was going?

Yes!

No.

No?

No.

No why.

Cause we went broke .

Went broke what.

Trying to get you to— you know—

No,

I don't I know.

You don't know?

No? I've no idea…

Oh; that's right, you haven't got a clue.

{enter the multiverse)}

what did you do at that afterparty Stephen?!

I TOLD YOU, I DONT KNOW!!!!

What does a girl have to do to get a little attention around here?!

Here, have some liquid courage.

Liquid courage!?

Yeah!

What's in this?

oh, you know…

No, I don't….

You—

Why does it glow

Yeah, I does that!

Oh my god, it looks like one of those sparkle— lava lamps!

Oh my god, yeah, you know.

I'm not drinking that.

Doesn't seem— drinkable.

But it is— drinkable.

Just because you can put it in your mouth and swallow it doesn't make it consumable.

Oh—doesn't it?

[beat]

…You know what.

That's fair!

—it— yeah.

You walked right into thst one.

I— yeah.

So come on?

It got sparkles in it? What are these flecks.

For all you know, it's bio degradable?

Is that a gold fish at the bottom?!

If he can handle it?!

How are you alive?

The goldfish to be fair seems tmmore alive than he should, perhaps. He looks the woman directly into the eye. He seems extremely concious even.

Oh wow.

Come on!

Ok. Fine.

But what do you do with the fish when the bottle's empty?

I don't know. Never finished a bottle.

What!

Never really…though about it.

Okay?

So! Come on.

He pours a shot.

Shift changed ,

I should have made arrangements for a date at an earlier time

But really there isn't a reason or realization to it

I hate playing the game

It must have been an off day when I made it up

But that was so long ago now.

I haven't put hard thought about it,

But forgot I had further options to stop the violence than just talking about it

I missed the opportunity to photog or model

By tomorrow morning I'll be a little smaller

But still broken

If I think of any of those thoughts

My heart opens up and swallows me whole

Talk about a dilemma and not a problem

I would probably dress as such as doll

If I could afford the money

But I'm dollar for dollar

Out of dogital storage for my thoughts and performances.

You know.

So show your age, Nicki Minaj

And Migos, the flash flooding

Benito is bad Bunny,

But you gotta go with the flow of the whitewater

With the high collars and high bars

If you are so highly throughout of

To win an award

And be obsessed over

by other famous people's

Lil bitz

I told my ex I joined the army.

My gigs kept having weird shit happen. I was like “something's not right.”

I thought it was my ex trying to do oojabooja on me.

So I told him I joined the army

to try to see if the weird shit kept happening.

I told that fool I joined the army

— I didn't Say what army!

Gods army bitatch!!!

You the devil!

Stop fuckin up my shit!

It's 5 PM

I'm waking up

It's setting in

That it's a contruct

Not a curse,

But there's no cure

The demon days

The auto wars

As darkness falls upon us

The Red Dawn soon becomes us

OMG! RYAN SEACREST! Everyone forgot about you!

I–thanks! *weird smile*

Quickly! Get on the bus! We're already on our way to pick up K-FED.

COPYRIGHT THE FESTiVAL PROJECT, INC. ™ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[The Festival Project ™]

The Complex Collective ©

-Ū.

OMG! RYAN SEACREST! Everyone forgot about you!

I–thanks! *weird smile*

Quickly! Get on the bus! We're already on our way to pick up K-FED.

COPYRIGHT THE FESTiVAL PROJECT, INC. ™ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[The Festival Project ™]

The Complex Collective ©

-Ū.