GO!

I found this gym because of Dillon Francis—

I found Dillon Francis because of my evil ex husband;

I think the lesson here, or at least one of hundreds—

Is to trust no one,

And love unconditionally,

No matter what.

— 02-12-2022

Well, there's a conundrum.

KEY/BPM: Slip, deadmau5

Conundrum.

...And with any luck, I'd have the energy to sit down and write it upon returning to a place I could have myself built perfectly in the confines of my mind.

I really wanna hear that new Dillon Francis album.

It's an EP.

It's new music.

DON'T need this.

Dont—

Okay, that's definitely me.

Fuck. I love gravy.

(Or used to, anyway.)

Where's the butt machine?

I love this place.

Thank you, actually.

Remember this day from last time?

Everything that's recorded.

Why are they trying to kill me?!

It's just YOU trying to kill YOURSELF.

No, there's definitely something chasing me.

*COUGHS*

WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!

It IS me.

UGH. OKAY, THEN.

What do you need?

A home, please.

Please.

Please.

I made dinner reservations at a place I can't even remember the name of—being homeless has actually been so detrimentally bad for me the only way I can grasp any amount of sanity is to keep excising—while trying not to be reminded of Kayla Lauren, and attempting to convince myself I don't hate her for being born better than me—or at the very least—with everything she needed to be seated next to the man I love endlessly, or, rather—obsess about constantly, all the while the remnicense keeps haunting me tragically.

Turn dollars into pesos,

Turn the pain into muscle, see

The dream can be reality,

The dream can be reality

Why are you getting pesos in Bejing?

I need them.

My ex is trying to kill me subconsciously—

—or just—consciously.

Why would he do that?

So I can't tell this story.

You're still telling it.

I'm still living it.

It's all in your mind.

Then I'm living inside my mind, stuck in my own body—what else explains all this—

—disgusting—

Exactly.

Better be careful writing about the blue eyed people.

They run everything.

What planet do they come from?! Do they need less oxygen to breathe?!

They consume everything—

—and kill everything else—

Is that not the same thing?

What planet are they from, really?!

Get this: they don't remember destroying it in the first place!

Humans!

Hardly—but at this point, they're at about 90% genetic match, after centuries of breeding with them.

Um, Try 93.

Amazing.

Wait—I have reptilian heritage?!

That's a rarity…

What am I looking at, exactly?

I put the Omni in Insomniac

Sent a message, asked Pasquale to run it back

From the past,

That's tough, I've had enough of that

I'm only uffing rapping this

Because I'm ufcking black

And I'm—

back to the club with a brand new hat

Can't have that, huh

What's that—?

I'm back from the future,

Who does that?

That's random—

Damn that's dumb—

If he can't jump,

Then I can't dance.

Kayla Lauren can't dance.

I almost laughed, at least.

What a waste of a perfect—

—idealistic—

What the fuck, Sonny.

Man. I miss being a DJ.

Ugh. If I have one more wet dream about Dillon Francis I'm gonna have to kill myself again.

Maybe it's the celibacy—

Does it make a difference?!

Ugh, why him?!

Why Kayla Lauren.

They're gonna kill me.

Just—JUMP!

JUST KILL YOURSELF.

Well, alrighty then.

Fuck.

I love Pan Flutes

I love josh Pan, too—

Let's execute this execution

Oh so beautifully

(Ahem—excuse me.)

Here's a movement—

Here's another piece of me,

If I just believe

I can do anything.

What is this.

Another cypher, I think.

How many of these?

I don't know, I just keep writing.

That explains this messy ass society.

EARTH

Stop throwing trash on me!!

I THINK I HAVE A FEVER

FUCK THIS SPECIES,

I need SUPACREE—

Please—

WHERE the FUCK IS SHE!?

1-2-3 NOT ME.

Not me.

—not—aww.

How do we end this race war?!

Peace, Love, and Unity—

...UNITY?!

—-Rick.

What are you doing in this reality?!

Who doesn't want to live in the 3D?

NOBODY! —

Are you nobody?

Everybody, I mean!

Then what are you doing here, exactly?

I'm here on business!!

When did you start working?!

I always stay busy! Why are you nagging me?

Honestly, Rick—it was you that started talking to me.

I just—didn't expect you to see you in this dimension, let alone this reality.

Oh, really?

Yeus, really, Unity!

—then surely, you've noticed by now the only unassimilated beings in this building are you and me.

Oh, my GOD—

—Well, not yet—

—that is Sexy!

Yo—!

YO!!

Why do they keep poisoning me.

Who is they?

Obviously the part of me that doesn't know it's me and also keeps sabotaging my purity.

What the fuck.

Honestly!

They keep trying to feed me MEAT.

Why'd you stop eating it, anyway?

Honestly? Once I stopped it just felt better—

What felt better.

My entire body.

So why are you vegan?

I'm not vegan! I just—eat less cheese.

Eat less cheese!

Okie.

But, why, tho?!

—Because! I'm sick of processing depression second -handedly!

But you said yourself—you still eat eggs because chickens aren't conscious creatures—

Everything is a conscious creature—they're just unintelligent, honestly—

—chickens don't give a fuck about anything—

What is this?

It's a food machine.

What?!

The humans are eating eggs—now, they can eat these without climbing up into trees, and the birds won't keep going crazy over their babies never hatching!

Won't the chickens care about their babies never hatching?

No! They don't care about anything!

Anything?!

No! Look at the male version of these…

[Rooster screaming obnoxiously]

Oh, my God!

That's fucking terrible.

Ahah. Exactly. Heh.

[Rooster screaming obnoxiously, even more loudly]

Make it stop!

GOD throws the rooster back into its dwelling and pushes a button, which activates blackout shades.

Wow.

That's an atrocity.

You think that's bad. Wait until you get a load of these…

Oh my GOD!!

now you've done it.

WHAT ARE THESE?!

“The Pigfuckery”

Wait—go back—

Can't go back.

I hate being fucking vegan! It's annoying! You have to ask for them to alter everything!

Then don't be vegan!

What was your deal with the devil, exactly?

I never made one.

Then what happened?!

My soulmate did—whoever that is— this is half of the soul we were sharing. Now Satan wants the whole thing.

Damn, that sucks!

Just marry this hoe bag so I can start drinking!

Thats a terrible idea! I thought you wanted Sonny to be happy!

That can't happen.

Make him happy.

Okiee.

Whyyy! Why in—Heaven's name would you create this catastrophic being?!

She's not better than me! She's just whiter—

A lot whiter—

All the way white—

—and probably had a family.

You have a family.

A way better family.

Okay. I got it. You gotta be this rich, or have this body type to get close to Sonny.

So— just kill my self, again?

Exactly.

If you eat eggs, why don't you eat chicken?!

Cause it can't be kosher—or something.

When did you get Jewish?

When I ended up fasting by accident during major Jewish holidays.

How'd that happen?

There are no coincidences.

Why do white people get to be happy?!

Cause they have money.

Then, why are these guys so miserable?

They have empathy—but they also have everything materially speaking—so they don't know what's wrong with them.

Oh my God! Really?!

Yes, that's what's happening.

And these ones are just empty.

Empty people, really.

Yes, completely empty.

Oh my GOD—JUST KILL YOURSELF.

What's the difference? It's not like I have family.

You do have family.

Not that I can stay with.

Oh, yeah.

So what's the point, really, of having a family if nobody can help you in need?

Nothing.

Exactly, my pretty!

Fuck Cree! Fuck her stupid ass family—besides that one auntie, maybe—

I like her!

FUCK SONNY.

Oh shit, shots fired!

WHERE IS HE?

Not this again.

Does she know it's just—Skrillex—?

Does Sonny even know about it?

Not yet, bitch.

...You know your photographer's in love with you, right?

Not a thing.

Yeah, not a thing. Until it is.

You're just imaginary.

I'm still the only friend you have, really.

That's just ridiculous.

Nobody would be here if you didn't have this much money.

I have talent.

You have privilege.

I guess that's a deadly combination.

Or just—deadly.

Don't fear the reaper, baby.

That ego is twice as regenerative as it should be.

Stop following me.

I'm just imaginary.

[Suddenly, SONNY is alone—the gymnasium somehow seems even more empty, in the silence. The automatic lights turn off from lack of movement— he stands motionless in darkness.]

[Loud coughing persists.]

I get it, I get it.

Damn this bitch is irritating.

At least it's not painful anymore.

Nothing is more painful than homelessness.

—she can't hurt me anymore, if I'm stronger than her.

—but she's prettier—

Which just means, her life is easy.

You don't know that.

I know she has a little sister, which is better than having nobody around.

What if Sonny's parents were crazy?

I mean, they were Scientologists, so, honestly on top of being adopted that would explain leaving school early, maybe. I don't know. Stop following me.

Mad world, again?

Well yeah, I just ate dairy—

What happened to vegan?!

Getting there slowly.

What about sugar?

Same thing—you can't just quit anything cold turkey without it affecting you adversely.

Didn't you quit cigarettes cold turkey?

It's different when you're pregnant; it's not about you, it's about the baby—besides—

Besides what, though?

Even at 359 pounds I was still okay at listening to my body.

RUN AWAY, BITCH.

(Or—don't run, just—waddle away quickly.)

Damn, I was fat.

How much do you weigh now?

Like 130 but i don't know how much all this loose skin weighs, really.

30 pounds of loaded bass.

Don't read into it, honey.

Okaie.

Cheese—really bitch?!

Everybody eats cheese

Yeah, except vegans!

Why do I have to be vegan!?

You're not everybody.

Is there any chance at normalcy, after that?

That's the album cover for Equality.

Is this the story about how, I keep hoping it's Sonny, but he never shows up—kind of as punishment for not being there for my son?

It could be.

I'm trying to be—or at least was.

His dad is evil—he doesn't want me around—

Actually, it's the other way.

He hit me.

You deserved it.

Now I'm Rihanna?!

No, Chris Brown has talent.

HANDS.

Talenti.

Mmm. Gelato.

Is that vegan?

Nothing is vegan.

WHY DO I HAVE TO BE VEGAN?!

Here comes Tofu Daddy.

Oh wow, really.

WHY DILLON FRANCIS?!

WHY KAYLA LAUREN?!

ITS THE SAME THING!

DILLON MAKES MUSIC—HER TALENT IS STANDING.

Her talent is fucking.

Well, I have that…

No, yours is loving.

Out of fucks, are we?

Oh, so tragically.

I didn't abandon my family. I got thrown out of it by the Illuminati.

You're in the Illuminati?!

Bitch, I AM the Illuminati!

ITS JUST ONE THING.

That's beyond comprehension to almost everybody.

Oh, human beings.

Fuck these creatures!

—they can be programmed algorithmically.

Let me see.

How many apps are on your phone right now?

Umm. Too many.

Exactly.

It was at that point I realized, it was my first time walking down the street shamelessly touting a red solo cup full of the only thing that might resemble any sanctity, coffee—however it may appear to anybody walking past me; the bizzare looks and stares made me begin to wonder how much of Skrillex had actually consumed me.

It was no longer adversity, but a death sentence of putrid lovelessness, amongst other things— but at least by now I knew how to rid my body completely of what wasn't meant to be there—that all *coughs* was, along with Kayla Lauren—was just everything I hated about my body reacting outwardly.

Still, the sweet tooth that I struggled with persistently became a crutch for the absolute lack of friends and family, as I discontinued my pursuit for music and drifted almost lifelessly into the abyss that would be absolute obscurity; in the distance, my ambitions fading as I reckoned with the reality the only family and friends had for Cree, a ghostly and shadowy remnicense—as I shamelessly self medicated an imaginary disease, caused and continues by a recklessly toxic society; homelessness not a result of laziness or for lack of trying—but rather, for lack of family that would love and embrace me unconditionally for overcoming the overwhelmingly painful upbringing resulting in a lifelong battle with anxiety, suicide, and depression—never-ever able to understand that I might possess my own beauty, always, always, always being compared to the likes of Kayla Lauren—or someone similar.

It seemed, by now, that I would die from a lack of being white and pretty—or at least pretty enough that someone might be proud to have me—and every algorithmic app I ever downloaded bombarded me with bikini models, athletes, and symmetrically ideal beings so much so that I refused to allow such programming to be the end of me. I no longer allowed myself to listen to Skrillex, or Dillon Francis—or really, anyone attractive for that matter...as it would only result in the self-loathing spiral into the infinite nightmarish dehumanizing that is in the nature of man—

And as the world was showing me, over and over again every way possibly.

I was ugly.