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![[ENTER THE MULTIVERSE]](https://podcast-api-images.s3.amazonaws.com/corona/show/6230560/logo_300x300.jpeg)
“White people suck!”
This is a self-stated fact.
White people are the only ones going around saying that shit.
I mean, everyone else thinks it, it's true. Lots of people say it—just in other ways. Not exactly like that.
“White people suck!” White people say this about themselves, as if they're not getting a little bit of fucking sociopathic joy out of it.
I lived with a white a supremacist that may or may not have known he was a white supremacist.
*may or may not have*
He would say shit bordering on the brink of slight psychological torture.
He'd say shit like
“WE made OURSELVES the TOP RACE”
Like, the fact that you're using words like ‘we' and ‘ourselves' indicate that YOU believe yourself to be a member of the so-said “top race”
Not true. White people are not the top race. There are more retarded white people in the world than any other races.
White people have been historically racist to the point that they fucked up their own gene pool imbreeding. Like: yes. They have held a majority of the money ans power on this planet for long enough that the entire world is programmed to think blue eyes are prettier—
People with blue eyes have easier lives, period. Period.
They get away with so much shit.
This is a result of white dominance. It's true.
But this guy. Lol.
This guy would say things like
“WE made ourselves the TOP RACE”
And then further contradict himself by saying things like,
“I don't believe in race”
He was a narcissist.
Yeah.
Only thing worse than a narcissist? A white supremacy narcissist who doesn't know or understand he's either of those things.
FUCK.
I took him to my gym—but only because he let me stay in his spare bedroom for $11. Flex.
More on that later.
I personally think it's because he was a white supremacist trying to physiologically terrorize me by continually bringing up the effects of white power on my entire existence—
BUT.
He would say the most ignorant shit, that wasn't entirely ignorant—like he made decent and factual points, it was just ignorant that he was talking about it at all. To me. A homeless, black woman.
It was like he was rubbing it in my face.
For ten days he pretty much just came up with extremely inventive ways to approach me and be like
“I'M WHITE AND YOURE BLACK AND MY LIFE IS AWESOME AND YOUR LIFE SUCKS BECAUSE I'M A WHITE MAN, AND YOU'RE A BLACK WOMAN!!!!l”
I'm like, dude…shut up.
“WHITE PEOPLE SUCK!”
Okay. You're egging on a race war. I still don't hate white people. At this point I just see they're typically power tripping sadists. It's okay.
Like everything he said or brought up apparently to try to make me feel better—actually made me feel WORSE to the point where I decided he was doing this on purpose.
I'm like,
This is the new white power movent:
We make a majority of them homeless, lure them into our domiciles, and then remind them that hey don't have domiciles. Because of us. Pretend to feel sorry about it, mentally torture and disable them, and then send them back into the streets to squabble and kill each other!
Perfect.
But no, they are not the “top race”
There are more retarded white people than anyone else—
We even had one as President for 8 years!
I'm just kidding.
No, I'm not.
I don't hate trump.
He's just mentally disabled, being politically correct.
I don't hate him! He's hilarious!
When he's not directly effecting my existence—
Hes funny.
But: a perfect example of what the Caucasian's have done to themselves. And the fact that it doesn't matter, because when you have millions of dollars, you can be a literal retard, and rule the world!
Wow!
No, it's okay. I'm not racist.
I went from his place—directly to a homeless shelter, where 99% of women there were black.
I learned to love-hate everybody equally.
Black people love to talk on the fuckin phone.
So come lights out, everybody's on the fuckin phone, I'm like,
SHUT THE FUCK UP.
Everybody's on the phone.
I'm like
“Bro, if you actually have all these people to talk to, you should have somewhere to stay other than this dump.”
I'm like,
“I'm obviously here cause I'm a piece of shit and nobody loves me—
You're on the phone from 11 PM till forever and you can't just go to their house and sleep there?! No! Then get off the phone cause that person ain't SHIT!”
They ain't shit.
But dudes are next level psycopaths. All of them.
Staying at a women's shelter was eye opening. I would overhear conversations like,
“BUT I LOVE YOUuuuuUu”
Dudes be fucking chicks up in the head. All the way up.
BITCH you're in a HOMELESS SHELTER. If he lets you sleep in this bitch even for 5 seconds he ain't SHIT.
Get off the PHONE.
Black people—or really—poor people, they love to talk on the phone. I don't know. I don't get it. I realized at a certain point i talked too much, and I was spending all my talking time talking to toxic people. So I stopped. Kind of.
I talk to myself on my podcasts. Still can't decide if that's toxic or just what god wants so—
I mean the downloads keep going up. Whatever. I should have a house.
Dudes be having females out here homeless, worried about THEM. Woaaaahhhh.
Anyway.
But I realized: people love to talk on the phone. On the bus. At the gym. Wherever. Just
“Talk talk talk/- Yap yap yap” about the dumbest shit.
I realized how non bianary I am because females talk about the dumbest fucking shit.
All dudes talk about is females so -
I'm jaded at this point. Inequality is balls.
This is how I learned the meaning of “no justice no peace”
Like, the perpetual race war in this country has just created this division and unrest and it so fucking chaotic—
But it's not just a race war. Dudes are fucking sick, intolerant. Greedy, destructive creatures. It's MAN WORLD so if you have a tiny dick or are an ugly female—you live at the bottom of the world.
SUCKS TO SUUUUUUCK.
“No justice, no peace”
Colored people love to be loud—they've spent so much time being oppressed, it's apart of the culture to be like,
“FUCK YOU, I'M HERE! WHAT YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT?!”
I'm like,
I get it. This is the definition of “disturbing the peace”
After a week of this ridiculousness,
I'm like, hey, maybe they're not racist: they just want you to be quiet.
Lol that's not funny.
They're like,
“Ugh, this guy's breaking the law, he's disturbing the peace”
The other cops like,
“Just shoot him; if we arrest him he won't shut up”
Lol that's terrible.
Whatever. Colored people have been so neglected and oppressed now they kill each other.
Whatever. There's no color to that shit. It's just men. Men are killers.
But of course—I'm torn. I love babies—the only way you're gonna get one of them is to love a man—and once he impregnates you he can do whatever else to you he wants. He owns you after that. And you're just—tied to him. Destructive.
Honestly, though—the difference between a good man and a bad man, or even a good woman and a bad woman—is a good mother. You have to have that.
So I fucked up. I'm a whole trash can.
But now I love/hate everybody equally. Everybody's fucked up. I hate myself the most.
What! I'm homeless!
That makes me a piece of shit! I'm shitty.
And I get it.
It's cultural oppression.
This culture has been bred on slavery and neglect and oppression and so now you have to act out and be loud and ridiculous and rowdy. Okay.
I get it.
I do.
But at this point, I'm like
“This is the apocalypse, I'm ready for the world to end.”
I don't give a fuck about whose black whose white what's right what's wrong,
I'm like,
“Nobody pays enough money for me to be miserable for 8-16 hours a day, I don't have a place to sleep or a friend in the world, just end it already, God, “
“Just fucking blow it all up. “
I'm ready for a nuclear fuckin war.
“Drop that nuke directly on my face.”
I want to be ground zero.
Fuck this whole place. Fuck this existence. I'm over it.
I don't care about anything.
My basic needs aren't being met and I'm over it.
I don't even have a fucking HOME.
You need a home just to have a BODY.
The only shit you do In your house is because you have to take care of your BODY for it to work.
You have to shower. You have to eat. You have to sleep,
These are not recommendations!!
These are requirements,
Once I realized that a great enough evil existed in the world to allow this to happen—
I got over it.
I'm like “fuck this race war”
Where's the real one?! Drop some bombs in this bitch.
Humans are fucked up.
Black. White. Everybody in between.
Everybody's fucked up, yo.
Greed fucked up humanity. All of it.
—but I spent some time in this women's shelter and I sterted to realize: maybe it's just because it's a man's world.
Half these femakes are in here talking about being hung up on niggas—
NIGGAS.
And they're in a homeless shelter.
I had been celibate for quite some time at this point; but it seemed like every goddess I met in this place was broken—and that brokenness came from the sacrifice of loving men, and having children.
Men are fucked up!
Needy, greedy, selfish motherfuckers.
I'm not saying there aren't any good ones—
There are.
They're just married.
I respect marriage so much.
I respect marriage so much— to the point where, I ended mine, when I realized
“This is not how marriage is supposed to be.”
It's fucked up.
The good ones are taken, usually.
And the sad thing is,
Sometimes people stay in toxic relationships long enough that they become toxic.
That happened to me.
I stayed with the wrong person just long enough to realize, like,
“Great, now I'm shitty, too—you motherfucker”
FUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKER.
I would rather slit my wrists up and down than ever go back to my ex.
Yep.
I've committed suicide 27 times since I left my marriage.
You know what the first successful suicide attempt was, though?
My fucking marriage.
UGH.
FUCK THESE NIGGAS.
They'll have you fucked up.
They'll have you homeless.
They don't care! They have dicks! They can just fuck you up—then walk away, and fuck somebody else up.
And the thing is: there's always some dumb, useless 18 year old somewhere that's gonna think he's GOD.
She's useless—except in ONE WAY. To him.
Then when he's done with her?
Yep. Trash pile.
Fuck these dudes.
So I'm in this women's shelter, where of course, as if I need more of a reminder that most men ain't shit
*most, not all.
Done offend men. They'll kill you.
They'll worse than kill you.
They'll knock you up; ruin your body; cheat on you—they'll fuck you up—
Then kill you.
So I'm in this shelter, and after the first night, they're like “okay, you have to have a physical, then a psyche assessment, then you'll get a permanent housing assignment”
I'm like “okay”
So I get my appointment, and I look at it, and the appointment for the psychiatric evaluation is like 10 days away—
I'm like,
“Wait a minute:
So you're going to make me wait 10 days in a dirty, chaotic, gross fucking nasty place—10 sleepless nights surrounded by hood rats and garbage all over the place and shitty toilets, where it's freezing fucking cold and even the cops and the staff are fighting all the time—THEN you're going to give me a psyche evaluation?”
“Yeah”
Fuck the system.
I'm just jaded.
I love/hate everything and everyone the same.
You know why?
Cause it's the same fucking emotion.
They're not opposites.
They're just opposite ends of the same spectrum of the same exact emotion.
Passion.
Passionate fury
Passionate love
Passionate rage.
All really the same thing.
The opposite of love isn't hate.
The opposite of love is fear.
Weekend on a Tuesday
R3HQB & Laidback Luke
Love, much like death
Is just an illusion
another contusion, confusion
I'm a loose fuse confusious
Lucius, Lucifer loosens
Two tooth's,
apathetic:
I'm so pathetic,
No sympathy for the devil
No empathy for the dead
SUPACREE//Chak Chel is grocery shopping at stop n shop
Why stop n shop
CAUSE THERES NO WHOLE FOODS IN THE HOOD.
Racist ass motherfuckers.
Supacree.
No, Dude. No.
Okay! Chak Chel!
Mm. -_-
I need to talk to you.
Please. Step away.
Wait!
M—no.
[she moves to the left—he moves to the left—she moves the right right—he moves the the right.]
*sighs*
[she removes a stone from her pouch, and throws it on the ground: it opens up into a black hole like vortex.]
Where does that go.
I don't know.
*she gestures, waving her hand in front of the hole*
Uhh—
She stares into his eyes and steps into the portal, which swallows her into a void.
Oh, my God!
He stares off into the distance worriedly—
Seconds later, just outside the storefront, a portal opens—supacree/CC is set gently at the bus stop; DILLON FRANCIS, still inside the store, stares at her out the window, flabbergasted as she boards the bus, staring back at him through the window. The bus drives away.
Why Dillon Francis
Idk
I died and went to hell and back
and back to hell again
An irrelevant disheveled devil drinking a rebbl in the back of the bus
Full of disgust, looking busted and fucked up
I'm stuck in a nightmare,
I can't wake up
Where's Shia laboeoff?
It's wild and rough
Inspired enough
By being in lust
Pretending it's love
But it's nothing
Jimmy Fallon
FLASHBACK : season 4
ANANDAR has an interesting medallion.
one time I fucked this dude cause he looked just like Skrillex; like that wasn't somehow gonna be a disaster. I mean, my life was already 100% crap—I thought:
Couldn't really be much worse.
Might as well fuck this dude:
Not like I could ever get the real thing.
Turns out I was wrong twice.
FLASHBACK: season 6
SKRILLEX is obsessed with SUPACREE.
Huh.
Oh wow, yeah.
Yeah.
So what does Dillon Francis want out of this?
Figure it out!
Uhhh!!
What about deadmau5?
JOEL ZIMMERMAN
I want nothing to do with this
DEADMAU5
…are you sure.
JOEL
Yes.
KASKADE enters swiftly.
JOEL
Ugh, this dude
DEADMAU5
WHAT UP, HOMIE.
KASKADE
WHAT IS UP.
JOEL
Ugh.
RYAN GARY RADDON enters, nonchalantly.
RYAN
…am I late?
JOEL
You made it!
RYAN
Well, I promised.
DEADMAU5
You are late.
KASKADE
Ugh, this dude.
RYAN
Nobody likes you.
DEADMAU5
Say that to my face.
RYAN
Where is it.
KASKADE
Ooh. Burn.
JOEL
Oh-Kay. Let's go.
Lol. Where are these dudes going.
I guess we'll see.
PASQUALE.
Ahem.
PASQUALE—
Yes?
What are you doing?
Working on something.
Working on what.
Something.
PASQUALE
WHAT.
GET IN HERE.
Fine,
I don't have eyes—
I super sauna
Flora-Fauna
Outer space
And out of stardust
Superstardom
Flawed,
But by design,
Align with all of ‘em
Fine,
I really don't find you
Kind of attractive
Damn, I'm damaged
Do you mind
Or do you plan on dying anytime
Fine
I can't be white,
But can be tiny,
That way, finally,
When I'm someone's wife;
I'm the right weight and height for them to like me
Enough that they might—
I mean just might
Not cheat.
Horrible.
All I want is your attention—
A ten
A ten-tension
I wnant your attention
A ten
A ten-tension
Locker number 87 was taken and though it hadn't immediately bothered me in the same way that it had a few days before, the unsettling feeling in the moments following at least prompted me to write something down. It did bother me to think of him with anyone else—and even sensing it or seeing it had set me off in a way I could neither explain nor describe, first sending me into a whirlwind which culminated in meeting Anandar, and secondly tailspinning me into a fit of fury —and while I still loved Sonny, there was something I felt for Dillon I couldn't entirely explain, and while the world was suddenly full of beautiful people—beautiful white people, to be exacta, I realized I didn't want nor was I truly fit for any of them anyway, not that something like that mattered in my time of desperate need and desperation, unable to accumulate the focus or energy I needed to move up and out from this trench I was in, whatever it meant besides falling prey to the grueling captapilism on which the country I was raised to love was built, without it benefitting me in any way besides aesthetic.
GODDAMMIT, DILLON FRANCISz
WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO—
Yeah, that's right—
I'm gonna throw up.
Don't throw up in my house.
GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!
THIS IS MY HOUSE—
YOU DONT HAVE A HOUSE, BITCH—
Aw, shit, it's on.
KAAAAAHHHHMEEEEE—
Is this dragon ball Z?
No, it's
FUCK YOU, YOU RUINED EVERYTHING
If I hear Renaissance one more time,
I might just—
I might just
You're right
It's white power, it's alt right,
I can't fight it
It's alright
It's just another night
In the heights
In the no flight list
I'm on hiatus,
I'm high, thanks plankton
I'm pinapple, might just wine
Or whinehouse,
If I had my own house, despite this
Whatever
This records all hype,
Supply and Demand
I'm a Diamond
For your demon
Indegenous genetics yet
I'm homeless, on stolen land
I'm hopeless, once again
I stole this l, I am Sam
I'm alone in this—
Here's your quest for fire, ya dumbass,
It's bombastic, I'm so past it
Just wanna throw a bomb at it;
Used to cetalogue albums
Bow I'm analog, all bad,
I'm so mad
I wanna take it all back
Like all that
This is Allllllll, that this is—
Is she coming back?
Maybe.
MAYBE?!
Look, just give me my 10 bands, bro.
10 bands?!
‘Ukrainian Ballerina Finds Solace In Dancing.'
Oh man, they hate us
Why God, do they hate us
Light skinned ballerinas—
Life is what you make it
Raise up from this hatred
Make my grave
With raising canes and gravy
Make the best of what you gave me
Questions in my mind arising
Or are rasing
I'm erasing pain but gazing at the TV
thinking
God,
Why do they hate us
Why do they hate us?
USA
Why do they hate us
Why
Why why
Why do they hate us
A master hypnotist;
Why waste a wish on this—
The fog, or mist obscured my vision
Interest in
THIS DOESNT MAKE ANY SENSE.
Now, wake up.
OH MY GOD.
What do you want?
I want to wake up from this nightmare,
I want to be white, with blue eyes and long blonde hair
I want to go to Long Island on the ferry,
I want to be there,
But clearly,
I'm here, and I'm sorry
But I'm growing wary
That God's even aware of me
I hate this.
Oh shit.
What, man.
I just realized— we're all gonna get really old.
Maybe…
—or we're gonna die.
Yeah, that's why I said “maybe”
That's fucking terrifying.
Dude, you're like 40–how are you just coming to grips with your mortality?
…I don't know.
*hits bong worriedly*
I'M GONNA BE ALONE FOREVER.
I'M GONNA BE ALONE FOREVER!!!
Damn, Drake Bell;
I didn't really think this would carry over into the 7th season, but—I gotta hand it to you;
You stay fucking up.
Dammit.
What.
I fucked up.
You just stay fucking up
And I stay fucking up
And I say I'm over it,
But I'm a stray puppy;
A squirrel that's in search of a nut
And you are what you eat
So I guess I'm a butt
Or bananas
I'be had it
I almost miss my hammock
I take that back
I ________ Manhattan
Hey, you gotta stay stateside.
What. For what.
NEWS: WORLD WAR III
Ah, fucking shit.
So, what am I supposed to do for mon—
MILITARY:
Get over here—
No.
Look, it's SkrillexZ.
No.
How about—
No.
Believe it or not,
I want what you want, m
I love what you love,
and then some;
Gone for a walk in the park,
With my heart in my pocket,
I hope she shows up soon
I hope that she's all that you've always wanted
Since I'm not,
And when I'm gone
My songs remind you of what
Love was,
The love that I had,
And the love that I loved just to love
And the love that I wrote in the songs that
You offered
I hope she shows up
And she's all that you wanted;
I want what you want,
And I love what you love,
I promise l
I hope she shows up soon
She's all that you wanted;
I wanted to love you,
But want what you want, hun
I promise;
I'm just coming off a long one
I love you for the long haul,
And then some
//
I keep on forgetting
That I'm not that pretty to,
Or around you
So I'll just—
Do what I do,
And move into the room
Where my room meets you,
In the vacuum of time and—
Collisions, and splinters
Unseasonable winters and
Missed kindergarten graduations,
I'm assuming at least
I can't move,
Or can't focus,
Can't write many words,
Or recite all my poems
There's just not enough time left
That I have
Imm mindless
I might have to find
A flight
To the homeland, and
I don't want to fight, in this war
I was drafted;
I wrote that before,
Now I'm captain
Disasterous…
Has it begun yet?
It hasn't been fun yet,
Just tragic
I haven't forggtten the traffic
I still have the hat.
I just might not be black
But I'm back on the blacklist , I guess
Sending signals, distress
Matching sigmas,
And sigils,
Invested in candle light vigils
Twisted like pretzels;
The rest of the West is in shambles
And I'm steady rambling,
Scrambling
What's the preamble, pastor?
Last again firstly,
And first again last;
How's that feel?
How's dinner after a hot meal,
2 days of cornmeal,
I'm horny,
But still won't eat honey
All out of money l l
Submitting to your said supremacy
This, I'll remember—
It's cinders and embers and ashes l
The fire you search for
Went out in the rain that I called for
The dance that I managed to salvage
From out of the past,
Like the misters and masters
I asked for the land that I am back
And we're all just grains of sand
And we're all just grains of sand
And we're all just grains of sand
I should want for nothing,
But I find you at the forefront,
Sniffing cocaine
Yelling my name
In the most profane way
Ah, down the alley, she goes
But—
WHY ARE WE RUNNING
YOU DID THIS, TIMMY, DON'T ASK ME STUPID QUESTIONS
WHY DO YOU KEEP CALLING ME TIMMY
CAUSE YOU'RE TIMMY, SHUTTHEFUCKUP!
I'm losing control, now
I can't get out of it
Or into it
I'm on a roll now;
The role of my life,
It turns out,
Was just my life
Now I'm lifeless inside
“Yeah right”
*sigh*
“Like anybody loves me”
*crying*
“Like anybody likes me”
Yeah, that's right
Just lay down and die;
Lay down in the street like a dog,
“If you like”
Attack on my psyche
The love of my life was just like me
He might be
Are we even?
What do you believe in?
A seething scar on my iris.
Dine in and drive ins.
I'm meant to die now, that was my life, it seems;
It's over for me,
The American dream turned nightmare;
I haven't seen this stream,
I should lie here,
I haven't been myself in a while,
I'm liable to set the whole ass world on fire—
Like I'm on a fire escape,
Trying to tape my mistake
At the brokenshaker;
Makes sense in LA,
But it's just another day here
How's the weather?
It's awful
That's what I heard at the office tomorrow,
I'll probably drown in my sorrows,
A crown on and borrowed objects
In my honor,
No, dont't stop here
This is bat country
Now some Sunni blū shit
Or SUPACREE, whoever she is:
Nonexistent.
Here's a spaghetti and shit sandwhich,
Dillon Francis,
I believe in magic,
I swear, I just can't stand it
I hate this planet;
Might be nice if I could manage to—
goddamnit.
Captain.
Where's she at?
Off the map…
There is no “off the map”
Off the grid.
Well, there's that.
THE LEGEND OF SUPACREE
We've been collecting data about this woman for a number of years.
It's a woman?
CUT TO:
SUNNÏ BLŪ is not a woman.
*gross stupid rapper shit*
Very much so.
Senator, a word.
How many words?
At least three.
Why is it always three?
MEANWHILE
*in a deep meditative state VIA DILLON FRANCIS*
*no, it's Hanzel*
Shutthefuckup.
Listen.
This is a lot.
Breathe.
[stops breathing]
I've got burning questions.
That's just syphilis.
I—
It only stings a little;
It only burns a lot—
You were my love, I thought
Lost, lost, at once
But here you are,
And not often have I wanted
To imagine you a star
Another catharsis
Another conundrum
The world is at war,
And the source that we come from,
Abolished,
So long lost and gone from our thoughts
Now,
Think fondly of lust,
As she fondled the heart that she clutches
From dawn until dusk,
After sunset,
Once buried but polished, recovered
And thought of more often,
Than spawned in the rust of the under and all of the marvelous—
What was it?
What?
“The Jimmy Fallon Conspiracy”
That is a good band name!
What was the other one?
“Bad with Matches”
I like that.
There was one more…
Uh…
{Enter The Multiverse}
[The Festival Project.™]
COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©
-U.
You just can't please a man
He'll always love you—
For something
The,
He'll always hate you. For something
Cause man is never satisfied
Man is never satisfied
Man is never satisfied
Man is never satisfiiiiied—
—with love
With love, love
With love
With love, love
HIRO is once again running for his life from an unknown extra terrestrial humanoid species wielding now and arrows—after fighting them off, assuming they have annihilated the entirety of the troop, they turn to walk towards FARRO's bunker, when an arrow pierces through the back of HIRO'S shin; shocked and wounded, they looks over their shoulder shoulder, to see two
Fuck, I need to eat and rewrite this scene.
You were at the gym for 6 hours?!
I guess
I was at the gym for 6 hours?!
I guess.
What did you even do for 6 hours.
Fuck.
I don't know.
Tater tots.
UGH. Don't remind me.
DONUT FRIEND—-!
NOOOOOOOO.
SPRINKLES CUPCAKES
You want all the cupcakes Lb
YES. All the cupcakes.
I was trying not to stare,
But uhidden under a mess of fantastically blue hair,
He hid a familiar enough face that I felt my eyes smoke, and I had to wonder where he was going.
fuck this is cool.
That's crazy. I use deadmau5 for focus:
Interesting.
Yes. And apparently, he uses this—or just likes it—but honestly—
THIS IS THE COOLEST THING IVE EVER HEARD.
What are those two dipshits yapping about
They're kids, not dipshits
Kids are dipshits
They're listening to that new Skrillex album
Which one?
They good one, or the other one?
The other one.
Gross.
Dipshits.
DISPATCHER
911, what's your emergency?
Yes. Hello.
Hello. What's your emergency.
I'd like to report a crimes
This is an emergency line, sir—
It is an emergency.
What's your emergency .
Skrillex pooped in my ears for about 30 minutes.
Uhh, excuse me—
—and i would like that 30 minute of my life backs
What's your emergency?
This album sucks.
(3rd movement$
Every morning, a coffee and water
From cross the walk
Doesn't matter whether
I bought or bothered to acknowledge the la gauge barrier
From cross the border
Timeframe for and Roland
Baseline from Malays noticias
Hideoho
Hey motherfucker!
I'd give up my dream
For any one of you three kings
And honestly?
I'd just sit sweetly, neat and weaving
Do my best to suit your needs
I'm just a needle
In a haystack
But the haystack
Is made of needles
Well, if you need me
I guess I'll be here
A residency
Designed by evil.
I didn't mean to
Be so mean to you
I mean,
Things are exactly what they seem
And you left me here
Lol New York
I saw a white baby on the bus:
In the Bronx
Yeah!
First of all, this was the first white person I had seen in three days, since arriving to the Bronx
But my first initial thought was
“OH MY GOD. A WHITE BABY. ON THE BUS”
You don't see that.
I want a baby so bad it hurts my nuts.
Figure that one out.
Second hand touch l
SICKO MODE - SKRILLEX REMIX
…yeah, what happened to this guy?
That guy died.
Psh. He's dead.
are we really gonna pretended like
—-be careful.
You be careful.
Are we really gonna pretend like this guy didn't make some of the greatest music of all time, and just because he took 9 years to drop these two albums—
—careful
—you be careful—
One of which was POOP
WHAT IS THIS.
“Don't Get Too Close”
This is POOP.
HE CONTROLS THE POLICE.
Aexplain how Skrillex is Mr. nimbus.
Sign this.
You have a sick and twisted mind.
You're not wrong.
I like it.
Look out for the blue eyed Porque pine
-lol
*porcupine
What is this
Is that like a
Aww, it's cute
Like a—robotic porcupine
THIS ALBUM IS POOP
*plays 2.5 seconds*
Lollipop tellitunby sounding rapper:
Blah blah l lawabnllaahha
P00P
ITS BETTERR THAN YOUR MUSIC.
Uhh. It wouldn't be if I had like a gazillion dollars.
Skrillex does not have a gazillion dollars.
THE DEVIL
Here's a gazillion dollars.
SKRILLEX
ok.
ILLUMINATI
here's a gazillion dollars.
SKRILLEX
ok.
WHAT. HE HAS TWOGAZILLION DOLLARA?!
Dude he's got like a bazillion dollars.
Ooh.
WhT.
Lol it's hilarious mh Google speaks Skrillex.
a bazirr0n dorearsa.
0ohz.
(The z is silent)
The X is always silent in skrillex.
#SKRIRREX
Being Sunni Blū
SUNNI BLU has a NEW YORK ACCENT
Okay, repeat after me:
Ok.
“I got lost at the mall”
I got—
No.
I got LOST—
I GOT LOST
AT THE MALL
—AT TH
—NO.
[later]
At the studio l:
Sunni BLU (perfect New York accent)
Sorry. I got lost as the mall!
Where you from?
Why.
You from Brooklyn?
You're from Brooklyn. I can tell.
Yes. It workedzz.
I'm gonna hurt you
I don't wanna be like cardi b
Livin in the Bronx but it ain't mei just wanna be your shorty
I just wanna tell my story
Steely Dan
Outside the stadium
The unfamiliar feel of snow flurries on my nose caused me to c it oouaoy lowee my glasses, dark and covering the tears in my eyes and shielding me from whatever deceitful demons who might gaze their haunting stares into my soul
lol. Boofing at barmitzvas
That is a good band name
FESTIVAL STYLE HOUSE DJ —
EDM- TECHNO-TECH HOUSE- DUBSTEP
New to New York from LA, multi-tunic female DJ , multi instrumentalist, and lyricist, vocalist & musician looking to graduate from the bar/restaurant scene to the club/festival circuit. I play house, techno, tech-house, dubstep—progressive house, new wave, alternative, rock intelligent rap/hip hop, trance, psychedelic // club & festival music—beat for parties, clubs & festivals, open to birthdayas, bar mitzvahs, weddings, house warming—if you're looking to dance, turn up, and get lit: I'm your DJ. Custom and curated mixes and playlists by requests, looking for new networking opportunities and experiences.
It is romantic
When it snows in Manhattan;
But When it rains in The Bronx,
I wanna throw up
THE LEGEND OF SUPACREE: VIDEO GAME
>>Trashcan
Dumpster
Hobo
Scavenger
Peasant
Slave
Influencer
Investor
Entertainer
>>>
Employer (Slave Owner w/ 10+ Employees)
Landlord
CFO
CEO
Ambassador
Diety
Fallen
Descendant
???
Ascended
Magician
Alchemist
Creator
Genius
God
To start the game, you must die.
There are several various ways to enter “DEATH” upon starting the game; Each death will result in a separate possibility and ability to affect the outcome and mode of the game.
Accidental Death will result in lowest ability gained
Homocide Results in medium-level power upgrade/ability
Suicide and mode of suicide will result in highest award of capabilities to begin the game
Pick Up Items for RP, XP & Bonuses; Items like supplies, clothing, or other necessary items will provide player “PP” or Personality Points; Other items such as gems, crystals, stickers, may be collected as trophies, or used as currency and/or grant KP, or Karma Points; Items such as Vintage Furniture or Records, Artifacts, Art, Vinyl Records, Hats, Sunglasses, or Rare Pants/T-Shirts will gain Player additional points towards leveling toward ascension status
Collect songs— pair them by ear (by key or beat matching for extra points — remix, cover, remaster, or sample tracks for extra RP, XP, EP, PP, and LP.
Create Original Songs and content to open portals,
Music + Time + Travel Forward/Backward by learning to use magical elements to manipulate musical energy
Earn Star Power by completing missions in Hollywood Area of Map
Gather Tools & Needed Supplies around map
Increase Fitness, Stamina, Charisma by becoming more attractive; Running, Gym Routines, Dancing, Marshal Arts, and Surfing (after West Side of Map Opens)
Rave Weapons
Rave Weapons are earned through completing various missions, series of mini games, tasks, and treasure hunts within the map as it becomes available to the player. Once Instant Manifestation has been acquired, the player must use The Mastery of Cosmic Alchemy to level up each individual rave weapon.
Synesthetic Telekinesis
Energy Manipulation
Time Weaving// Time Traveling// Time Bending
Multidimensional Vision
“dreamgirl”
A surreal and daunting recurring dream becomes a living nightmare scenario, when the mysterious woman from his dream world turns up in his waking life.
After a chaotic merry-go-round of “coincidences” in which the man continues to run into the woman from his dreams throughout his day to to day activities,
I'm just--
Trapped in this body
A nobody
In-N-Out,
Out of Body,
But I already forgot about it
I already forgot about it;
I'm Just--
Punching the clock,
Might purchase a glock,
Just to pick myself off;
I think about it often-
Every time I take my bra off;
Caught,
Two toddler brawlin,
Saw the whole future this morning
Through two brown eyes,
And about 5 white liars,
conspiring to kill me
I'm
Nobody, in a bathing suit
Under a 4/3/2
4-3-2-1
Here comes the train,
Jump on:
and,
Jump off,
When you start going fast enough to jump
And fall right to sleep
I'm just--
Another slave, in a bathing suit;
Jesus saves,
But he's being a crazy lady
Lazy Suzi, (or, Sami, actually)
Sits, but not peacefully
She's living my dream, yeah
Somebody's dream girl, and i'm just
Barely Alive,
Barely Breathing,
Barely Human,
Maybe,
Not even
Barely Alive,
Barely Breathing,
Barely Human,
Maybe,
Not even
No, i'm not the same
All I got from my mom was
My name,
All My shame,
And the need to be famous
I'm just,
Wasting my time,
Being a slave,
Cause I don't get paid to write
I'm not black,
I'm not white,
I'm not gray,
but hey
“Hey!”
Thank you for saving me
I might survive.
Got a couple more good years left in your baby
Couple more good years, playing the field
Got a couple good years left, for the best
Get the cream of the crop, baby,
‘Fore you get here;
You'll never need, no,
Never need a girl like me, no
You're looking for a queen,
Between you and me; I see it
Do your thing,
Do your thing--
I'll always be watching,
But now I'm not hungry,
You're a fiend
Believe me,
It's easy;
I know what you need
My eyes are progressing to brown.
Up from green, ‘cause
I see you,
(I see you, I see you)
You don't need me,
But I need you;
I see you
(I see you, I see you)
So,
Do your thing
Do your thing
Do your thing
If that's what you need
‘Cause, that's what you need
Find you a Queen;
Be a King
I believe it,
I see.
I'll just be here -
Whenever, you never
I don't do enough
I don't care enough
I don't know enough
I don't really care
I don't see enough
I don't dream enough
I'll never be enough
I'm not really there
Are you with me?
Are you with me?
Are you in it?
Are you in (it)?
Do you miss me?
Do you miss me?
Never been it
(Never been it)
But, now it's like
Tag: You're it
(youre it)
You're it
(You're it)
You're it
(you're it)
Never been it
(Never been it)
Then, I got hit:
“Ow!”
Now it's like
Tag: you're it
(Youre it)
You're it
(You're it)
(You're it)
Never been it,
But then, I got hit
Now i'm it
Are you with me?
Are you with me?
Are you in it?
Are you in (it)?
I don't do enough
I don't care enough
I don't know enough
I don't really care
I don't see enough
I don't dream enough
I'll never be enough
I'm not really there
You see, my dear;
Love Left,
And Love Lied
And Love Lived,
And Love Died,
And Love,
Time after time,
Love stood by,
And Stood By
Love is, and
Love was,
And Love wil be,
All of us,
When all of us are One,
Once One becomes None,
It is said,
It is done.
‘What do I have to do to get close to you?'
All of a sudden, I was hornier than usual; hornier than I had been, anyway, and especially for the bus. My morning coffee seemed to have finished itself, and my daily routine become ritual, a one hour bus ride to the gym , though the trio itself each day seemed shorter and shorter.
You live in my womb,
To whomever this concerns—
A discerning look, but truly no comfort,
No love for the lover;
A world full of wonder, and flurries
And folk art—
McFlurries and culture,
You all are the fortunate ones,
The fortunate ones.
Yo.
Yo.
I have clocked in some serious hours in deadmau5.
Yeah.
Yeah.
MORGAN.
What, Sunni? What?
WHERE ARE MY CLIPPERS?
Um, your what?
MY CLIPPERS, MORGAN!
Like—hair clippers?
NO! WHY WOULD I HAVE THOSE?!
I don't know, I thought you had a barber—
NO! LOOK AT THIS:
[hands Morgan her phone]
YOU BOUGHT A BASKETBALL TEAM.
NOT JUST A BASKETBALL TEAM: THE CLIPPERS.
What the fuck
SO WHERE ARE THEY: THEY SHOULD BE HERE BY NOW! I made this PURCHASE SEVEN MINUTES AGO.
Oh, Jesus Christ.
{Enter The Multiverse}
[The Festival Project.™]
COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©
-U.
WELCOME TO:
THE DILLOn FRANCIS EMPORIUM OF STUFF AND THINGS
oooh. What's in here?
NOTHING.
DILLON FRANCIS has placed a powerful love spell on SUPACREE.
what?! WHAT FOR.
OH God. No!
Dillon Francis's super white girlfriend:
noooo. White girls r bettrrrrrr!
Dillon Francis's super Latina side chick:
little do u know...
HANZEL
FUCK Dillon Francis.
DILLON FRANCIS FANDOM
OK.
*meanwhire, skrirrex ghets all da pussy*
w00f.
ugh.
I don't think this season is a good idea.
TINA FEY
ITS A GOOD IDEA.
Just remember, Sonny,
You were first
You were my first
Just remember
If I'm sorry,
You'd be sorry first
So just remember, Sonny
Just remember Sonny
I fell in love with ya;
Now I'll always be in love with ya
I'll always be in love with ya
Ya,
I like it rough enough
Until it hurts
Until it hurts
Huh
Ya
I like it rough enough
Enough until it hurts
I like it rough enough
I Kike it rough enough
It hurts
Just remember you weee first
Just remember, you were first
God,
The curves of a woman
(a woman)
The curse of giving birth
Then being worthless
Life is rough
I like it rough, until it hurts
Stupid stuff until it's all done
Till it's numb,
It doesn't hurt no more
I wish I was your girl;
But I don't wanna be a girl no more
Woah
Ya,
I like it rough enough
Until it hurts
Until it hurts
Huh
Ya
I like it rough enough
Enough until it hurts
I like it rough enough
I like it rough enough
It hurts
Just remember you weee first
Just remember, you were first
I've been chasing you tastemakers
Making me envious
Marvelous lives
Of the rich and the famous
I'm chasing this dream
And I can't let it go to waste
I was chasing, it seemed
With your arms wrapped round my waist
You're wasted on me
You were wasted, I see
So, basically
Basically—
You're chasing me.
What do you believe in?
You still believe in me
Chasing me home
What do you believe in
You won't leave me,
Or leave me alone, but
When you were on the road,
And I was all alone—
I felt ashamed that I would roam
Into such lonely territories
I'm only telling stories
Let's relieve the glory days
Let's relieve the glory days
Let's relieve—
You're crazy,
Keep chasing.
Tripped over a bag,
Tag—
Now I'm it
This is it, isn't it?
This is it, it is
Is it?
It is.
Tag.
Now you're it.
Rest assured, in the absurdity
That you'll be coming home to me.
Your turn to chase me,
Tastemakers
What should I feed the trolls today?
Deadmau5.
I said the trolls, not the snakes.
I'll give you a snake…
Ah, finally.
What.
The season of dick jokes is upon us.
This is not a joke.
What's not a joke.
M A S S S I V E
Do you ever stop to think “I'm being a dick.”?
No.
Oh really.
Sometimes I pause momentarily to laugh and state aloud, “i'm being a dick!”
{Enter The Multiverse}
[The Festival Project.™]
COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©
-U.
{Enter The Multiverse}
[The Festival Project.™]
COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©
-U.
{Enter The Multiverse}
[The Festival Project.™]
COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©
-U.
https://open.spotify.com/album/4flix5NKGhxDwqpClFhVPD?si=i4YjWh5MSHmYavi7ovKCsA
{Enter The Multiverse}
[The Festival Project.™]
COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©
-U.
{Enter The Multiverse}
[The Festival Project.™]
COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©
-U.
{Enter The Multiverse}
[The Festival Project.™]
COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©
-U.
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.
The Festival Project™ and it's subsidiary Non-Profit, The Collective Complex © aims to challenge modern artistic and philosophical ideals, break commonplace barriers, forage new creative mediums, and provoke inspired and reformed thought and actions toward evolution and overall societal improvement and ecological sustenance through a new-wave and post-modern, avant-garde and philanthropic hyperawareness driven by a unique culture of global values mediating global respect and preservation via open consciousness, multi-sensory and synesthetic (multi-preceptory) expansions of sound, language, vibration, movement, color, emotion, and ritual governed conceptually by the aspect(s) of love, truth, unity, understanding, and peace.
Thank you graciously for your time, consideration, understanding, and support. ^.^
To Donate Please Visit,please visit gofundme.com/thecomplexcolletive
TRIGGER WARNING!
⚠️ VIEWER, LISTENER, and READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. ⚠️
This series contains adult content not suitable for children or under the legal age of majority.
Listener and reader discretion is advised as this publication and / or broadcast and its selected readings and projected writings may contain explicit language, provocative wordplay, profanity, open expression of suicidal ideation, discussion of evolved/ de-institutionalized theories concerning depression and, psycology mental health, race relations and colorism, socio-economic inequality, political injustice and media politicism/ mass media manipulation, unresearched/undocumented scientific hypothesis , modern philosophical ideals and spiritual explorations, crude/ adult humor and may also include and contain pornographic content, references to fictionalized interpretations of celebrities and/or public figures (fan-fiction), caricatures or references to pop culture, modern art, music, science and other entertainment references which may evoke biased emotion, inspire adverse reactions, contemplative thought, discontentment, or discomfort.
The views and opinions expressed by this series and its subsequent editions, additions, chapters, broadcasts, and publications are solely the writers' interpretations as expressed with artistic and entertainment purposes only.
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}
Origins: The Festival Project™ is a multi-genre, multi-dimensionally mystifying and magical multimedia series, set against the backdrop of modern dance music-- i.e.” rave” culture-- combined with historical and futuristic elements of science fiction and folklore-- across expansions of space-and-time, unifying with The Universal Consciousness in a multidimensional and explorative ensemble of Films, Episodic Series, Music Videos, Extended Playlists, and Concept Albums.
A perpetual symphony of artistic storytelling though a cavalcade of wonderful and whimsical characters along high-intensity, off-the-map adventures--showcased through Music, Film & Interactive Art Explorations--set upon the dreamlike actual reality of an unravelling fabric of time-and-space.
This explosive and expansive wave of enigmatic, chaos-colliding, charismatic [ and often comedic] kinetic energy, reflects a shared experience throughout all time in human connection; Journey beyond the unknown, to Worlds Within--and Without.
El Festival Project™ es una serie multimedia multigénero, multidimensionalmente desconcertante y mágica, ambientada en el contexto de la música dance moderna, es decir.” cultura rave”, combinada con elementos históricos y futuristas de la ciencia ficción y el folclore, a lo largo de expansiones de espacio y tiempo, unificándose con la Conciencia Universal en un conjunto multidimensional y exploratorio de películas, series episódicas, videos musicales, listas de reproducción extendidas, y álbumes conceptuales. Una sinfonía perpetua de narraciones artísticas a través de una cabalgata de personajes maravillosos y caprichosos a lo largo de aventuras fuera del mapa de alta intensidad, exhibidas a través de exploraciones de música, cine y arte interactivo, ambientadas en la realidad real de ensueño de un tejido del tiempo que se deshace. -y-espacio. Esta ola explosiva y expansiva de energía cinética enigmática, que choca con el caos, carismática [ya menudo cómica], refleja una experiencia compartida a lo largo de todos los tiempos en la conexión humana; Viaje más allá de lo desconocido, a los mundos internos y externos.