| L E G E N D S: ICONS. |

It smells like dill in here

At least it doesn't smell like dead mouse.

Aha.

Youre Hellen.

Keller or Mirin

How would you be Hellen Miren

Cause I'm the Queen.

posh.

You want to die

Well, you better do it quick

Better get your shit toggether, paint a l

Bigger, better picture

Bitter Betty gliching steady

Just remember when you're ready

Ever steady still forgetting dinner

Dessert was already

Forget this significance

Remind me why I'm on this speeding bullet to nowhere

Had no other options but to go under for something

Shy, sickness it's a secret

Just kill me already

Semi robotic,

Something like a magnet, attracted,

Simply symphonies

And soulless bodies, tied to money

Wonder what was in the vaccum cleaner meaning

What did you suck up, dude

Who do you suck up to.

When nobody loves you

But your own son

And the audience is robots

Nothing really works more than once, if it's really magic

Sit and do nothing would you

Like you're supposed to

Fall over like the mannequin you are

Just a body in my count

A mattress without a bespost, if it matters

If it matters

Doesn't really matter

But hey, you know

We all go downtown every once or twice a note

For Hanukkah

I could try to be nice

But there's no sense in it,

Is there

If everything and everyone else is just as nasty

As the rest of it

Just is just a test, again

A doctors office visit.

Simple robotics,

Or already stocked up for Hanukkah, Hollywood

Where's your homeland deposit box

Closet full of robots

Closest to the moon, I wrote another poem for you

Sorry that I wasn't on the offering table

The parakeet, pigeon and pirated Slattery,

Damages, damages,

All with the Amazon packages,

Now we're all robots,

Aren't we

What corporation to you belong to!

Something corporate , or say anything

Whose to say Jeff Besoz won't replace us

With m robots with thought processes,

If once such could project as such presence

As an AI freestyle

Meanwhile, I've got a butload of buckets and bunts,

Bullletwounds, eyes on Manhattan and happens to wish something bad upon me

When all I wanted is

Somebody to love me

And someone to love him,

If that's what he wanted

(But who knows if what he wanted was all of the bodies opposite of him)

I don't belong on this planet

I belong in the garbage

Put me on mars, mom

Stop it,

You're almost a robot, get out of my peripheral

With your mental illness

Geez, I must really want a menorah

This is the animal house

There's no one alive here

Set to be slaughters.

Honor the box of offerings as

Thoughtful words

And parallels

What could be under your tongue

Is the surface of love

Just to touch with the battery acid or chemical trails

You have left in your axis

Nobody knows better than this

How close it is to touching

Without being loved

But nobody loves you

Psychotron, sure we're all robots now

Nobody loves anymore

{Previously, On…}

L E G E N D S

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

{Enter The Multiverse}

Ascension

What the FUCK did you DO?

What did I do?!

You know what you did!

I didn't do anything!

Oh yeah?

No! Not on purpose!

GODDAMMIT, YOU SON OF A—

Where's Jimmy Fallon?!

What?! I don't know!

Oh no.

Oh shit, run.

Oh no.

What in the FUCK—

I am “the fuck”

You know what.

I'm gonna sue the everliving shit out of you.

For WHAT.

We'll see.

Fuck.

Uh oh.

FUCK.

What now?

What this time?

Apparently, Jimmy Fallon is missing.

What the fuck does that got to do with me.

We'll see.

Okay, great,

Now finish that chapter.

What fucking chapter?!

All of it.

That's—a lot.

I want all of it. By my desk, by noon tomorrow.

“By” your desk?!

Yes, BY. Not ON. I've got too much stuff on my desk—

…but it's…like 9 o clock.

Should be easy, given your natural talents.

What natural talents.

PEACOCK.

AHAHAHAHA.

Okay. Well.

Well what.

This sucks. I lost all my coins.

Hey.

Ugh.

You dropped this.

So how was Los Angeles.

What the fuck. You fucking DICK.

I told you, I own shares in this.

So what's the plan for this, exactly.

I dunno, Harry.

I got a book of stamps,

And a yellow envelope marked

“Jimmy Fallon”

I will hate you forever.

Well, that's retarded.

I haven't even smited you yet.

I will annihilate you, human.

WHERE'S MY SHIT.

Who the fuck are you, anyway?

Nobody!

No one.

No one cares about this series, yo.

I'l seriously doubt that, Jesse Pinkman.

What is this stuff.

It's your stuff.

This is not what I ordered—

Hey—

Why is it BLUE

Cause it is.

So.

WHY IN THE—

Mischief managed.

Alright. This should be good for the night, but we gotta get out of here by morning;

I thought your parents owned this place.

It's a time share!

So?

So it's like only —part of the time.

That is stupid.

No! You're stupid! You're the one who got us into this mess.

It's your mess, I was just cleaning it up!

Whatever! Stop trippin.

Nobody's “tripping.”

That's it. I'll be a stripper.

Straight outta hell, that kid.

Don't I know it.

Alright, fine.

I said, whatever you do—

DONT watch this show.

Stuff it, J. Slatts. I'll kill you with my eyeballs

Sounds like a threat.

Put on a lawsuit, then.

Maybe I oughtta…

—with a bow tie.

You'll look so pretty.

I thought I was already pretty.

Uh huh.

Yeah, look, so honestly

I don't know if I'll ever be on the same vibration as like,

Jimmy Fallon and them, ok?

I don't know how I did it;

I don't know what did it,

It just happened and then—

And then WHAT.

It just—ended.

Just like that.

I'm not trying to offend anybody here.

Just like that.

Now, I ask:

What are we going to do to sell you this dream?

Doesnt matter what you do, I'll never believe it.

Sure, fine; Don't believe it—

We're gonna make you live it.

Who the hell us “we” anyway?

Now you're speaking in my cadence—

Don't flatter yourself

I like it.

Too late, I guess.

So, you see

We're building

Power triangles

And

love squares

Power triangles

And love squares

Don't let it scare you,

There's love there

Don't let it scare you,

There's love there

Never fear where love has dared

To call you up there

Corrupt file—no fair.

Don't be suprised even the odds seem to turn in your favor,

I promise you;

Nobody's ever ready

For what has just happened here.

WAKE UP, FUCKER.

Ugh, I can't go through this again.

So, I guess I'll have to erase,

Or just secretly publish

Everything I've ever written

About my actual experience as a color,

Just so that I can earn money

As anything other than

A slave—

A maid,

A housekeeper,

A dog walker

Or servitor

So far under her,

That I can't see far enough up to just

Scratch the surface

Her birthright:

The entire network

And mine,

To sit under her,

Wondering what the world would be like

At the other end of the spectrum

The word form of the

White woman

The wicked witch of all directions,

In which I stand in;

I'm at her mercy

I've been abandoned before

But this disservice, is, I'm afraid

The best advice I can take is just

To go straight to the bank with my angst and my hatred

And shove it

So here comes the nameless

Face I love,

Yet,

The faceless God,

Was

Intoxicated, at best—

Manipulation of the Mass Media

I'm so

Seriously jaded

In this torture chamber

In my corner office

In this hall of racists,

I claim, but if all is

One in the same

Then

It's one in the same

And

I'm mainstream

I'm famous

If it's

One in the same

Then

It's one in the same

If it's

One in the same

Then I'm mainstream

I'm so famous

In a whole room full of humans

I'm groomed to be useful for something,

But what?

It just hasn't come yet.

I could sit down with a paper and pen,

But I'm filling up all of my documents

With hollandaise and God

For what?

It's just another song, or something

Or something.

It's just another —

Goddamnit it, more coughs again.

I told you not to watch this.

Why do I taste pancakes?

Maybe you're having a stroke again.

Chyeah, a stroke of genius.

I'll show you a stroke.

Or don't.

Well, there goes the captain.

where is that scene, anyway?

I don't know, I just wrote it.

Great, she left the door open.

She's got no furniture!

It's a “dance floor”

It's “the black box” she called it “the black box”

Goddamn, do you listen to all her stuff?

“Fear stimulates my imagination”

Pilot

ASOT

Fuck man,

What is a woman to a man,

And an androgynous genius to

The industry, or anyone at all

If all are foes ans frauds

All else is toxic!

I woke up with one hand tucked behind my back

Feeling dead drunk,

I just woke up again

But never fell asleep

What world am I in?

The end of the

Dream sequence

The end of the energy keeping me between three things:

My past,

My future

And these prequels,

Sequels

And seeing arrangements

And

She's going crazy

But nobody quite understands

That these demons are chasing me saying

“You deserved those hands in your face”

The scratches on Kayla's back should have had me but

I was too fat

To find love again

And still have something

Wonderfully, undone

And wrong with me

Wrong with me enough to

slam poetry

So I'm guessing the white women I love beyond words and bounds are—

In charge of whatever happens

At the top of the rock;

So I jumped off.

I want to see someone suffer for all that I've done;

No, that's dark, and karmic, you know—

To go on like that;

The confusions and refusal to accept that

The album is called ChaosMagick,

But the cover is more

Urgent,

A prose or a pawn of protection

Against all the coughs

And the reckless mismanagement

The hands in my head

And the eye on my scar

And the lies on my heart

So tell me,

What happens

When you're flying a kite with your heart,

And it's broken?

What happens to the kite ,

When you fly it with your heart

And your art up in bundles—

heartbroken, heartbroken

So what come of Miss May,

Come January?

What come of Miss April

By Next December

what comes of the words I was saying

For no one

But everyone heard them

And I've been gone

Much longer than months,

But still stocked up on all that I've wanted

Or all that I got

Or just, all that I love

But got no undercovers to acknowledge no more

How right I was

Or how wrong I am

What come of Miss June, when Miss January comes around?

what come now, around August,

When March is long forgotten?

What comes of the drugs,

Of the come ups, and come downs

What comes of the process

When nothing is served

But the surf has come up

Somewhere

And I just can't love enough

To go there

I want to go to there

I want to be that girl

I want to sit at the top of the rock

Writing songs, and sipping mock cocktails

I want to

Don't you know

I just want to get back to

Where I belong

I'm so out of money and love

That I want to be

Under the train,

When it's coming

(Sometimes it's just the impulse that says

“GO”

Then the train starts to slow

And my pain bubbles up into a numb,

Dumb, crumbling cluster of poetry

You know?

Or you don't

Cause you're all just on your phones

Scrolling

Some black man stands over me,

Reminding me of why I never trust the ones

Who want me most,

Or just assume,

By color code,

That I belong to them

I'm sorry,

I just can't write with your arms around my neck like this

Your heart around my arms like this

It's so wholesome

I had other verses but forgot them

They took away my movies for the curses

And the hexes

That they put on me

I said don't.

And the king said

“Heads will roll”

Cause, you know;

I've got parts for all of them now,

The ones I'd forgotten

But come from the catacombs,

Back from the conduit

You know,

This is awful

I had another one,

But lost it.

The king?!

Which one.

Teas I!

No, it wasn't,

It was Gían's father,

From further off

Should I call John back?

Which one?

Turns out, I love all of them—

Turns out, I've got all of them

In my college

I taught them all to be someone

Becoming of acknowledgement

With nombres most common

Juan, in subcultures, but

Beyond that

(Or above them)

It's John,

Or just Jonathan,

Watch the ones who drop the consanant;

They're always so troublesome,

But I took them all up

As understudies,

Social Studies and some theatrics,

Joan of Ark said

Two more moments

(Two more weeks in)

I could have a body worthy

Of a Grammy award, but —

Would I be a writer then?

Probably not, hon—

Writers are

Off a bit.

If you were pretty, ever at all— would you have written this?!

If I were pretty at all would there be reason to be this

Conflicted?

Some of those old New York hallways

Haven't been painted

In ages

Since they made them

Don't make that face at me

I only dropped my key once

On the fourth floor

—they're horrible, you know

To us,

The “brothers” know no love

They are destruction, speaking

Of this,

I got a cold heart.

Cold like the robber

Cold like the calling I've done in my corner office cold, like the jello mold forming a thought process

Worthy enough

I might love it like a husband

We're re-evaluating your circumstances.

Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean.

I've got friends at USPS

What the fuck could that even account to.

Look, I'm gonna have to give this some serious considerations.

It's not that serious.

It's not that serious.

Of course it is!

I'm up to my knees in investments!

So?!

I wade a waiste deep,

Surely you can get by

“Up to your knees”

What exactly do you need?

Money. And lots of it.

I mean, from me.

Money.

Really?

Leave me alone.

I told you not to write this.

You're a voice in my head;

No, I'm the hand in your mailbox.

What in the fuck do you believe in.

I believe in everything!

They said you were a genius;

I didn't expect you to be

—at the very least, lucid—

*squints* learn some new vocabulary, okay?

For what?

Dinner.

Maybe.

We're still in the process of voting.

She's crazy.

We'd be crazy not to actually hire her.

Her accounts are all practically open;

We could just take it.

Yeah, and when she kills herself, and there's no blood on our hands—

There's nothing that can be done about the amount of this stuff that's already printed!

Printed?!

What?!

You mean—

She's published?

Self-published.

My, what a beautiful happenstance

To have already had you

And awakened atop mattresses

Marked for my assassins hand—

Polite, I lost you

All of us,

Atop the rock

We stood and suffered

Months beyond a montage,

Undercover

Love was lost,

And all's uncertain

The interception of God,

At the cost of

What terror and cutbacks

Have caused us all

What you lost was $50, a Hallmark Card, an Academy award, a long lost star's phone number,

And all that you wanted,

The cock of the gun

Was the sound that you wondered

What was called

, then ran off into wonder.

How am I gonna make money

And become an award winning songwriter

Music producer

And multidisciplinary artist,

Without all the funding it takes to get noviced

Without taking clothes off

Wake up 10 years younger

I'm suffering

My stomach was a rubber band

My stomach was a rubber band

My only song was Water

I forgot to stop

For the applause

I drowned in all the love; right then and there

I died of

Lovenessness

[The Festival Project]

The sound and laughter of children play

A baby in a basket

The basket case at Trader Joe's

Who know what happens

It just doesn't pull my heartstrings any longer

That my son belongs without his mother

So I'd better have another

This is us, come on.

Don't do this to me.

Don't do this, Timmy, you'll be sorry.

Come on! We're not even in that movie!

We are, though; it's still

Listen, you've got the right guy for this.

Are you sure.

Yeah, I promise.

Officers,

Stop for a *movement

[hot cops flash dance number]

Fuck, well, that was all wrong.

But worth it!

What I meant was—

God, this show gets good at 31,

But I'm only 22,

So I guess I'll know how wrong the war was

Once we've lost it,

Cause imm a man now

The episode is over,

Soon comes the next episode

With snoop dogg,

Or not

That was our wedding album.

Scatterbrained, and pregnant—

There she was just putting all the things together

That she needed to be

Needed

To be needed.

There she was,

All on 4/20

Trying not to do the wrong thing,

But what was it?

To be loved.

Then,

There she was at 21 just going off again

At some event—

A friend, and her

Back then could not imagine

They'd become him

To be someone.

Not as one,

But of entirely another

World apart, aside from

Cyclones into snow cones

Turns the watchers into artists

All their own,

And off my own accord

Or own account

Or done with boredom

Dove soap

Open doors

And clocks that turn the other hand away,

Each day you love Manhattan

But can't have that.

That's it—

This is just Season 1 of Mad Men

WHERE THE FUCK IS—

[she throws her hands above her head in surrender]

I don't KNOW!

Oh, you're a girl now?!

I guess!

What's with those pants, then?

To hide the assets!

What assets?! You look tragic.

I'm going for ‘skeleton' to match all your wives and everybody else on the red carpet

Who said you get the red carpet?

Manhattan.

That guy lies!

Well how about this:

The walk of stars were carved out in blocks of marble

All in my honor.

1000/1

You're our God, now.

What!

I don't want to be God!

SUCK IT UP. YOU WON.

I don't wanna!

Yaaaaaaayyy. You got the award!

All the awards!

Speech!

Speech!

SUNNI BLŪ

Uh—-

I'm drunk,

And there's nothing on the teleprompter

[a man in the audience coughs]

A-HEM.

[Sunni Blū immidiateky shoots the coughing man]

[multi-camera shots of celebrity audience reactions; laughing, clapping in hilarity as if someone hasn't just died]

TAYLOR SWIFT

(unmoved at all)

SUNNÏ BLŪ

I don't know why you're laughing.

That was awful.

That guy died

[audience is insane, super fake as usual]

[more cut takes]

SUNNÏ BLŪ

It should have been you, Taylor.

TAYLOR SWIFT

(Still unaffected)

SUNNI BLU

Anyway. I'd like to thank the academy…

Cause I am the academy

[Audience is celebrities being celebrities]

SUNNI BLU

You guys are all idiots:

I'm a go f*ck myself—

And anyone else who wants to show up

At my afterparty.

Whatever.

Peace.

[cheesy academy award music plays—Sunnï knocks over the mic, peaces out obnoxiously; the audience cheers wildly and the host returns to the stage.]

Who's the host?

Whatever.

Hey, better than nothin.

You're telling me.

yeah.

I know:

Oh, she's a comic?

Yeah.

I got it.

BOB SAGET

Ooh, that's good.

Ū

No—no my God.

No Bob Saget, stop it!

Wait, Bob Saget is dead right?

Last I recall:

Fuck—FUCK!

Dammit. Dammit, dammit.

Okay, Rue— you're up.

Rue, what in the—

Shhhh, don't let them know I'm in here!

Oh, wait—

It's me, Blanche.

That's hot.

I'm a debutant.

My god, you're so young.

Here, take this,

What's that,

You'll need that.

V.O.

I'm being hunted by the ghost of Bob Saget.

*haunted.

No, hunted!

There she is! Grab her!

Ooh, Bob Saget.

Why, yes.

How old are you?

Not dead yet!

You don't have to kidnap me, I'll happily go with you, sir.

Really?

Yes.

GET IN THE—

NOH,

GET IN THE VAN.

INT. IN THE VAN.

[a bunch of hot male celebrities are in the van]

Oh. Okay.

Wow.

That was easy.

What is it, Friday.

It's Friday and a half.

Friday.5

What.

There's a Friday movie between 1 and 2

So I guess this is season 8.5

I guess this is season 8.5

HEY, GET BACK HERE.

What is this.

It's your lunch.

I don't want this.

Well, okay.

What— is this strange music—

They call it dubstep

Come on, Jimmy, you're slipping

Kimmel, cause Fallon is dead or presumed missing

Probably Skrillex

Probably a bounty on his head, Dog willing

The Festival Priojects Inclement Infinite

Is coming up next, on Legends

Come on Jim,

KEEP UP.

Nobody can know about this, okay?

Wait, where's Kimmel

Okay,

I got O'Brien—

Black Irish Bastard…

Alright, Alec Baldwin is a little tied up, right now, but

LEMON,

Fuck.

That's l—future me.

What?!

I gotta go, okay?!

What? Go where.

Let's get DRUNK.

No, That's—I got a show tonight

What?!

Look at my lexicon.

Your—what,

Meet me on Lexington.

Oh, this pussy is finished!

I got it, I got it! He's

LENNONNNNN!!

JOHN LENNON

Fuck. Look, I gotta go.

John Lennon?!

You're dead!

Funny, I thought not.

Watch this.

MOOOOOOOOOOOM.

Fuck,

What,

It's my kid. I gotta go.

Wait, you have kids?!

Well, I just had you, didn't I?

“The mayor” is a secret underground rap star

lol

#trappin

Okay,

What's else happened

Idk hold on

Okay,

So whats the sauce on this sandwich.

Oh.

Jeez, this again.

That *sandwhich?

Hah.

There's no sauce on that sandwhich.

—there's not!?

No:

You see.

It's very simple.

WAKE UP, YOU'RE A ROCKSTAR.

we gotta take the train.

The train?!

NO.

NOTTHETRAIN.

NO.

Man, fuck the train!

[SUNNI BLŪ wakes up on the train.]

What's this, the train?

[is the train]

(Angrily, tossing newspaper)

Man, FUCK the train!

Other hobo:

Aww, thanks, I need that for my—

[s/he snatches back the paper].

Wait! I need that back—what day is it?

[drunkenly illegible gibberish turns into perfect Hebrew]

GODDAMMIT, it's Shabbat;

I gotta get to Temple.

[s/he shoves the newspaper back into the hobo's lap]

Here.

Oh no, I thought I couldn't forget

RABI

FUCK

_]€_#

WHAT WAS IT

GODDAMIT IT WAS SO CLEVER.

God

So it was…

What did you do with it?

Do with what

My idea

what idea

My—my rabbi joke—

What rabbi joke

you know what rabbi joke! You were the one who gave it to me.

Oh, did I?

YES, SATAN, JESUS.

GOD

Ohh, Satan-Jesus. I like that one.

NO— it was—

It was much better than that, it was—

It was funny.

Oh, it was?

YES.

—did you write it down?

Fuck,

I realize I just opened a

A FUCK PORTAL.

OHH, GET IN IT,

GET INSIDE.

I had an Artemis in my pocket

But I lost him

Walked away from the cornermarker

And the cornerstone, for the sunset

I wonder if songs always come

When I'm walking,

Or

God makes us promises,

For world of

I'm not JB, I'm KG,

Can you see me now?

If you could see what I see,

We'd be even

wtf did I just write this

And not realize I just wrote this

Yeah.

That shit happens to me all the time.

WHAT.

ALL THE TKMEx

Shut up,

THE ANDRE3K CHARADES GAME is getting intense.

What in the FUCK is that.

*flutes*

Ohh.

And

KITES.

yyyyyYYYYYYYAAAAAHHH——

GODDAMMIT.

I can't see really, I just dream

I'm not thinking, I'm dancing

This is what you asked for

Exactly what you asked for

For once,

I'm finally glad I have your eyes on

My friend

I can see you all on the horizon,

Singing

NO, NO MORE MUSICALS!!

Jimmy, what did you do?!

I don't know what I did!

You lyin bastard.

I'm not lying!

So, where ya from?

—I don't know where I'm from.

Listen, I'm gonna need you

SHUT UP,

JUST SHUT UP.

It seems like these scenes are getting shorter.

I'm bored with this.

Ok.

Let's do something else.

I fuckin hate you. I hate you.

I fuckin hate you.

88.

Oh no:

8

Wait, what the—

*dolphin*

WOAH, okay:

Oh, no.

No,

No, no

OHNONO.

I told you I'd find him.

Anyway.

Seems like there's something more important I should be doing.

Are you sure this is the right place.

Right place. Right time.

Fuck— FUCK.

What, what happened.

I lost my—

SKRILLEX!

No.

SKRILLEX.

NO, NO—

SKR—

I swear to God, Google knows everything.

Google don't know shit about SHIT.

I gotta lose m 39 lbs.

For what.

MADONNA

DO IT FOR THE BANANAS.

I hate— you.

COME ON, MISTER.

Fuck off, Madonna,

I'M A GOD.

I miss Beyoncé.

That's not relevant.

Beyoncé is relevant to everything.

*smacks*

QUIT FANGIRLING.

Trust me, I hate you.

I don't trust you, but I believe you.

I got it.

I hate this place.

Holy shit.

What.

I developed a new phobia.

What's that mean?!

I don't know, I can probably use it in a fight or something.

For what.

SPECIAL ABILITY UNLOCKED.

I see you looking over my shoulder

I see the shadows, I try not to jump at em.

I spent six months in a coffin, you know

I spent my life a sarcophagus

(Wow, I got it right.)

Try not to mutter those haunts in a hospital

Try to recover from trauma

Uncovered post traumatics,

Anxiety attacks and a lot of those—

What do you call them?

A flashback.

Here goes one:

SONNY MOORE aka SKRILLEX appears.

I told you not to—

But I did!

I didn't mean to!

But you did!

This is ludachris!

Oh look, it's—

Fuck.

God dammit.

Come on! What's his name!? What's his name?!

I'll think abo it it.

Are you serious? Another shapeshifter?

Yes,

I guess welll just have to kill them all, then.

I just want to go home.

You don't have one.

…oh.

So here we have.

Okay, wait a second.

I wasn't faking my symptoms at all, actually.

My heart had dropped, and been pounding and fluttering insessantly—

It had been a hard week, but especially the last three days;

The coughing—.

Everyone seemed to be wearing clothing with stars or bears on it,

Champion sportswear.

I fucking hate champion sportswear.

But the palpitations were real as ever— and now—

On a Saturday night in the Jamaica, Queens medical center emergency room,

There they were again.

Only this time I knew exactly why.

‘Too Bizzare' by Skrillex begins to play, via Complications 003- The Trauma Method.

Irony.

It was ironic, but still startling,

Started with some nostalgic traumas,

Every other time I saw an ER doctor

(Why I don't go)

Fuck, I just realized I have to airdrop myself 880 times.

That fucking sucks.

Did you say you were a doctor?

I was, once.

When is “once”

At some point.

Listen, I'm gonna need you to backtrack to get to the bottom of this.

I'm innocent, I promise!

We caught you at 27 different angles doing this.

Oh.

[beat]

I plead the 5th.

Ohh. Cerulean. My favorite.

c R A Y On

Oh, I get it,

I L L U M I N A T U S.

Nice, it worked.

I know everything about you.

So you do.

[beat]

You're a God.

What the fuck do you want from me.

Listen. I. Am not. A God,

Right. That's exactly what a God would say.

No they wouldn't! Because a God wouldn't say anything!

AHA.

Don't ‘AHA' ME.

I don't mind, at all

It don't matter— to me

I don't mind, at all

It don't matter—to me

Might as well not think about it

The space between us

Might as well just stay awake then

No sense in leaving

Just to come back

It don't matter to me, now

Now and again

I go crazy just making arrangements,

But besides that,

If you like it, you should have it

It's a long road,

As Kaskade says,

And a short dance,

With the right one

And time goes by

I would call it mild,

But actually I'm in a wild panic

It might be a heart attack

I just might even

Die right here

But I don't mind, at all

It don't matter—to me

I don't mind—at all

It don't matter to me, I said

I don't mind, at all, now

It really don't matter to me

I said,

I don't mind, at all

It really don't matter to anyone

Now does it

(Not it doesn')

I don't mind, at all

It don't matter— to me

I don't mind, at all

It don't matter—to me

Might as well not think about it

The space between us

Might as well just stay awake then

No sense in leaving

Just to come back

Palpitations and precipitations at the pulpit

Preacher, please don't make me a culprit

I been prayin—

I been paying my tithes,

10% Even,

Now 25,

Almost half of me is not mine!

Why try?

I've been walking out, in straight lines

I been crying silently

It ain't right

I been making most of my nights

Sometimes

I see sun come up twice

Up, down up

10 degrees,

It ain't right

Up down up

33, it ain't right

Up, down, up

I've been spending my time

Down, up, down

Riding round,

Trying not to down in my mind

Up, down up

What is this.

It's my project.

What is it?

The Festival Project.

Yeah but—what—

What.

Is it?

…it's my project.

*painfully infuriated*

Okay, enter here.

EXAM ROOM 10

Why exam room 10?

Because.

Where are the other nine?

Just—get in.

I'm not going in there!

JUST GET IN.

UGH.

DEADMAU5 (head and all) stands at a tall podium in the center of the room)

What is this,

This is deadmau5.

I know that.

—-!!!

—?!?

What.

!!!

What? This is the exam?

Yes!

NO.

What is “no”.

I'm not playing for deadmau5.

That's the exam.

Then I fail!

Automatic Fail?

yes. Automatic fail.

Then you win.

What.

*slams gavel*

Congratulations—you're the next superstar DJ.

WhY.

.

What.

Woohoo! I just retired!

DEADMAU5 exits.

…

…

After a few moments of comic tension, the Deadmau5 head rolls back in through the exit which he has taken.

Ugh.

Fuck this.

No matter what you do, you're a superstar DJ.

What. No!

Yes. The answer is yes.

NO.

Fuck.

What the FUCK.

No matter what you do.

You want to go,

Go, you want to die,

Die, you want to try, try

You want to cry, cry

Do what you want;

As so will I,

Demand is demand—

Supply is supply.

EDX

So then, I followed this long hallway under the stage deck.

Uh huh.

And it led to a door—

Uhhuh, where'd the door lead?

To a portal.

Woah. Pasqualle!

You made it!

I—yes.

Congratulations!

*blows party horn*

*Daisies/ confetti*

You're like 25!

I'll be 25 forever.

Nice!

Yeah.

I guess that's why it's called ‘music'—a musician without muses is just useless.

‘Well, whose next?' I wondered. All of my muses were not just so wonderful to me, but adored by many—and perhaps this is what allured me most—befuddled ans confounded me; once my mind was set on something, there was nothing else its eye could see—and for how long one God could only know, how deep the love would go and that the blood would run deep, and the scars to show for it, only upon my heart and never by soul—for a love was a love, and even once came and gone, to the end of my life I knew I would still ponder upon them, at one time or another, my muses—star studded lovers, rather than crossed, shiny and golden like all diamond and trophies so treasured and thought of as precious.

‘Yes, you are—precious.'

Another tongue in cheek thought, for the other that I was, and also was not, as summer drew onward as short as it would come and go—a reminder to leave the apartment more often, and to mind my manners, to find the upper echelon wherever it was and come quietly into its doors, to open my world and wordform of thought, into a place where my heart always was; then, and only then, would I be home. Amongst the men and women of the uppercut and classy, luxurious big fishing ponds and flocks of doves upon olive branches—the peaceful world long parted from where mine was, by only the fault of my own. What had been done just certainly was, and yet, what was to come was an open poem, not of mine, but Godform in thought.

‘I wonder what's at the top of Rockefeller Plaza.'

—perhaps, a gander at the bottom of an even larger entertainment complex.

Then, again, only God would know what was beyond all that I wanted; a job—and not just any job at all— the one that I had always wanted.

Mmm. Birthday cake.

Suddenly the taste of a white confetti crème filled my mouth with a delicious remnince of what it might be like to taste a confectionary sugar again—but i couldn't imagine ever making it just on talent and charisma alone—no. Indeed, it seemed something had damaged my charm, and perhaps it was just the swarms and droves of phone controlled masses that saw me as nothing more than dust, I had started to surrender my desire to perform, and the quality of my music—along with my ability to make it, suffered with the awful thing that had been crowding my soul at all—whatever it was, evil and dark in nature, sure saw to it that it wanted to hurt me in all the ways that it could—and in all the ways it could not, I stayed away from most others, favoring my delusions of love.

‘Nobody seems to understand that the pain they cause will only harm themselves.', I thought

Younger souls, however, they were—and they would be kept in the pain that I was in one way or another until eventual death, far behind me on the infinite road to the source. Far enough behind, that it seeked to destroy my progress, and for all that it could, it also couldn't.

The infliction of pain would simply not act as a measure for control any longer.

Off into my own world, where I was at least free from the thoughts and judgement of others.

She's the most beautiful girl,

And I'm the most beautiful boy;

So naturally, we belong together, don't we?

I see a pretty picture,

Picket fences and a family

Golden Retrievers

Someone relieve her;

She doesn't believe me

TV dreams and exquisite pretty people

Burning candles, fire flames and

frequent figures,

Guest characters and cameos,

Repeat offenders, multiple appearances

Suddenly, really, it's another need

People, people pleasers

Audience affection,

Tragic endings,

Butterflies and new beginnings

Gun under my tongue,

Rubber like a frog

My mind is in a fog

Haven't bothered going on a walk

To Trader Joe's but

The anthem of my youth,

A lost soul

Another form of my love

So what I wonder

Put the gun up under my chin

Rubber like a frog

Blow my head off

Just cause I didn't blow up

Selfish cunt

Big brother,

Another hypnotist

Little brother,

Gotta love him

Gotta love em

For the Love of God

I could stop for a moment

Wash my mind out with soap

Like I'm ten years younger, even

Seriously

20 years between us,

You can't even hide underwater

In a bathtub

Seriously,

Someone help us

For the love of God, for the love of

Hollywood

Seriously,

Someone love us,

For the love of God,

For the love of Rockefeller Plaza

Someone help us

Another possible walk of stars

A little shop of horrors

Another whole story

I get rid of my demons

The hoes screamin

I put semen in her

Permanent like semen,

Just keep dreamin

I'mma just keep preaching

SaMo, Brooklyn

Europe Next

I keep scheming

Whoever you are;

If you're a wreck—

You need a check

No respect, neglect

Just cover your neck

(I'm blind to my own design, sometimes)

That's what the eye is

Try this:

Close your eyes and say thrice, kids

I am the God of the eye,

Osiris

I am the God of the Eye,

I'm Osiris

I am the God,

I walk amongst the highest

Thoth,

You lost

Better just die and keep trying

I am the God of the eye, I am

(Try this)

I am the God of the eye

(I never die)

I am the God of the eye

(That's right, three times)

I am the God of the eye

No black and white television,

In my dimension we pay attention to centrifugal,

The mission isn't in materialism,

Whatever youre spending

If money the God, l of your eye,

Realize, I am higher

My gunfire,

Is right on the back of

The one dollar

I am the God of the eye

I Am

Your money is nothin to us

We come in peace,

To end suffering

Pretty little nigga

Look just like Kendrick

Kickin it with jigga

I'm the new higs boson

Part of me never left Boston

(Fuck Starr!)

Part of me never left homeless

This ain't my home

It's my office

You never heard this song

You don't notice

I'm an ugly kid, you don't notice me

Rooftop smells like soy sauce

On god

I am ugly

You don't notice

-Atari the God

Can we get back to this, please?

Damn. She really whooped her ass, though.

Janet, can I borrow you for a second?

No.

Please.

[Whoopi Goldberg appears in the doorway, gesturing “c'mon”]

…alright.

I got convictions on my lips,

I took a picture

Turn the page

The worst of all was, it really did seem like they were racists—

INSOMNIAC EVENTS

Not just racists— the most deadly kind of racists.

WHITE SUPREMACISTS

You really want it this way, don't you?

No!

I LOVE you!

Oh, do you?

If there's a mile in here, I swear to god..

Are you high enough yet?

I thought so

HIGHER!

hire star*

What.

Just do it.

You remember these guys, right?

GOOD CANNABIS, FAIRBANKS, ALASKA

No.

Why are we back here.

Alright, we might have fucked up.

Why.

This guy sucks.

HEY.

What.

COME BACK TO ALASKA

never that.

WHAT, WHY NOT!

GOD HATES FAGS!!!

Well, you're wrong!

WHITE POWER.

Nah.

ALL LIVES MATTER

O rly? Even this guy?

Literally every “NO”

…so, “all lives.”

Look, I don't care what color it is; I want that book in my library.

GO TO THE LIVRARY.

NO.

GET IN HERE.

NO AUBREY. STAY DEAD.

She's dead, right?

YOU CALLED ME HERE.

I didn't!

You Did.

I did not, all i said was

*swoons*

…I love her.

(I really do)

WHAT?! “I Love you?!”

It was more the *swoon* that did it.

Disconnect.

Fuck, I lost deadmau5 again

What'd you do to him?

Nothing!

Put him back!

He's still there! He's right there, you see him?

No! This isn't deadmau5. We want deadmau5. bring him BACK.

Fuck, I fucked up.

What'd you do?

…nothing?

Pick up the phone

Pick up the phone

…hello?

Who IS this?

Fuck it, I quit.

Man, God never puts my dishes back in the right place, like ever.

I told you, I don't live here, I'm just…

Babysitting.

CC!

What!

CC!

What?

CC

WHAT.

Fuck, man.

That was wild.

Where the fuck have you been?

I don't know.

You don't know—you smell funny.

“Funny” is that what that smell is?

No.

When were you?

When? Ha.

Did you—-

Did I what?

—did you go to a party without me?

Lmfao fuck these niggaz.

Why, what happened.

What's this.

Where was it?!

Idlewild.

“IdLeWiLd”?!?!?

You. Old. One here and die, you know, l.

It's cattle call for curtain calls guy

Where did this go—

What was this, once?

It's the return

Welcome to Oz

This is the Tower of Babel

Remember;

I wrote that

Better than the bottom,

Still not the top

—it's not as fast, when it's not going all the way up

Did you jump yet

Come around more

Keep coughing

Are you sure this is where it was or—?

Somewhere else I stayed

Back when I was homeless

It's hopeless!

We lost her

Antenna, antenna

SUPERMARKET

I loved her

—she was undercover

—I'm still in your stirrups

I'm lost in New York, then

BACKFIRE

Adele remix is on [have a seat]

Can I go now?

I still need a hat, a half dollar

and an alter cloth

You could win an award for this;

I don't want an award,

I just want my son back

Motherhood, motherhood

Brotherhood, brotherhood

This isn't one of us!

No one was

No one was

Can I go now?

Where to?

Home!

Nope, that's just the office,

I'm still homeless, unless I

They got cabanas on top of offices!

(The rich and the famous)

Networking and brunches—

_this looks fun, doesn't it?

I altered the course of history

In brief exchanges and

Various social atrocities

This is hypocrisy! lol rly

This is hypocrisy!!

Hyper awareness and, psychic inclinations…

You realize the more low quality people you let in

The more low quality this country becomes, don't you?

I put a roll in the back of the chosen ones.

Used to be cast more,

Now something seldom ever happens

Such as this—

A fun Fortune 500

What does that even mean

Forbes.

Look it up.

What if the policy is

Foreign;

Look it up.

I know enough about the girl next door to know

Something is horrible,

Something inside of her

Rots at the core,

Her obsession;

My undeservedness of such,

What she must,

I mustn't, just

Unjustice

Broski, okay

I got to discard

All the pichardo

Besides just this one

(I'm standing on top of you)

Put somebody worthy on the fourth floor

Worse off,

I was done for

Before

I got to New York

What's her for?!

I know enough about the man upstairs to know

All these glares and

“How dare you's” and

Hatred says

Why would you wait 30 years

Until today, I guess

Something is certainly off about her.

I said yes.

It was more probably something like

“SUCK MY DICK”

What.

“YOU HEARD ME”

Oh yes, I did.

From 1990 to 1993

From 1990

To 1993

From 1990

To 1993

Stop breeding these things,

“Love is familiarity”

No

Love is what you make it

But you can't

Because of slavery

They don't make music

—they don't make love either

Well, look where your lust took you!

Nowhere!

Exactly!

Look where your love took you:

Vegas,

Los Angeles,

South of the Border

Above it

a New Yorker—

Under budget,

Celibate and

My arms are too short to jump the turnstyle,

Meanwhile

My ex husband left permanent scars on

My face

My lips

My arms

My hands

And my heart.

Did you bite him?

Of course I bit him, he was strangling me.

You definitely won this fight.

I know.

Look, if I don't call for security,

This bitch is gonna make me kill her.

OCTOPUSSY

NO.

What.

NO.

Stankass.

I will KILL this bitch.

Look, I gotta get ahead in this.

I need a WIN.

These are customs.

Trash.

Wash your pussy.

Send her back.

Nah, you know what.

Remove that hex.

Wait, what, really?!

Yeah, like;

Reverse it.

Woah.

That's crazy.

They got like….white slaves now.

That's not right.

What do you mean.

That's not it.

You said “reverse it”

This is what the white supremacy just did to everyone else:

[world in crisis except for for people who look like Kayla Lauren, to whom EVERYTHING is a fucking crisis, that isn't]

BECKY/KAREN/WICKED WITCH OF WHITE AMERICA

I AM OFFENDED

I'm offended that you signed your like 12 year old daughter up to pose nearly nude, but—

Hey look, it's us now; is this freedom?!

Uh….

Why are all the female models like 12 and all the male models are fully grown men—

Or women.

Right.

Idk.

Wait, I do.

You do?!

Wait. Something tells me all the pedophiles and all the white supremacists are in the same group…

Run the same businesses—

Have the same families.

This is disgusting

Okay, this is gross

That's not right !

That's not my job!

Oh, it's not!!?

NO.

Who should I call

That guy.

So you want this?

Oh, it's a death curse?!

It will NEVER end.

Wanna bet.

I'll kill you and take the whole world with me.

Now that's a threat.

Thing is, I'm actually making it.

I'm telling on you!

Ok. Wait 30 years though so you look and sound REALLY fucking stupid.

Ok.

30 YEARS.

Doesn't make sense.

What's the statute of limitations for—

Hm.

Depends.

Depends on what.

Who are you?!

WHO ARE YOU?!

NOBODY YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT.

THEN WHY DO I?

wtf is this?

This is Texas being petty.

Ok, fuck ya‘lol

YAW.

I'm serious, wtf is wrong with you.

Something.

What.

Fix me.

Fix you. Hm. Ok.

*COUGHING*

Somethings wrong here.

Yep, it's definitely some kind of

FIX IT.

Where's this ROCK?

At the ROCK.

Like, where tho?!

Ur gonna need this.

What.

They r crucifying u.

Noted.

Hunts Point Food Distribution Center

Lmfao I need this word hold on

“eliminating redundancies, setting strict timelines, and allowing cases to proceed contemporaneously”

[ Finally, recognizing the danger that social media poses to young people and mental health, New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene Commissioner Dr. Ashwin Vasan today issued a Health Commissioner's Advisory identifying unfettered access to and use of social media as a public health hazard, just as past U.S. surgeons general have done with tobacco and firearms.]

A win.

I don't play dead.

What do you call this:

DIE! DIE, BITCH!

Corrections.

I still don't understand how this—

ACID

HAPPENS.

Out of sight

Out of mind

So why these guys

Tryna waste my time

Tryna fuck with my mind with

All these lights

OH MY GOD

I ain't got time for that

Well,

Maybe I do—

I just

Don't like

NIGGAZ LIKE YOU.

(Say what)

I don't like

Niggaz like U!

I'm Sunnï Blū!

You're stupid

Oh, so he put a curse on sunni blu, too?

Ok. Cool.

When all my aliases come up

This dumb motherfucking drunk

Is gonna get stuck

In his own woods

He'll bury himself

In the words that he left

With the scars

In the words that he left

With the scars

Sunni blu

Is the sayer of stars

I slaughtered them all

Swallowed them whole

Like a big black hole

I'm a big black god

I'm a big black God

Fuck

Twinkle that broad

One punch girl

One punch girl

5 punch faggot

I'll unwrap flags on your

Goddamn

Fuck that

Put a curse on my alter ego

Lucky he's a he, tho

I blow holes in em

I blow smoke

And love sausage

I'm a hedon

And he not a

Hero

He broke

He lost

I'm open

Shirts vs skins

I got 666

Curses to show you

What your words did

IM RA

I'm a big black God

You're at home with the young apostle

Let's be honest

He never even liked his father

So turned him to a mother,

Told his mother to ‘run far,

And bring back

The life that I want'

I'm a big black God

In light skinned clothing

You don't know to explode

Or explode on me

Cause my mommy's a

Dark skinned icon

That my God

Find something to pass the time,

God

Sunni with I, huh

I won

Fuck a pedophile wifebeater

Bury him in the woods with his fury

Fear me, now

I'm coming up with reverse curses

And cures

Cause my words

Bought the whole world

Buried you in the woods

I'll bury you in the woods,

Bitch

Very good

I'm a big black

God

-Blū.

GOD is the GOAT

I just became god

I do what I want

I get what I want when I want it

I don't want no problems

Me myself and God only

I buy everything I used to steal

These tears in my heart say I'm healing

What's the difference, anyway?

I've never been fit for your interests, or industry

Add insult to injury

Add everything to my Amazon cart, then

My sympathies

Nothing is greater in heaven

As it is in hell, for this industry

Turned on its head

And turned over from

7 to ten

Check your messages, then

Shut up kid, this doesn't involve you

You're not included in the package

Michael c hall and John c Riley reprise Mr. Cellophane in the style of DEXTER MORGAN.

HA.

Classic.

GOT EM.

V.O.

I met her at The Jumping Point

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.

{Coming Up…}

INT. THE JUMPING POINT POINT POP-UP NIGHTCLUB LOUNGE & BAR. NIGHT

“A Long Day's Night”

/

“A Hard Day's Night”

What the FUCK did you DO?

What did I do?!

You know what you did!

I didn't do anything!

Oh yeah?

No! Not on purpose!

GODDAMMIT, YOU SON OF A—

Where's Jimmy Fallon?!

What?! I don't know!

Oh no.

Oh shit, run.

Oh no.

What in the FUCK—

I am “the fuck”

You know what.

I'm gonna sue the everliving shit out of you.

For WHAT.

We'll see.

Fuck.

Uh oh.

FUCK.

What now?

What this time?

Apparently, Jimmy Fallon is missing.

What the fuck does that got to do with me.

We'll see.

Okay, great,

Now finish that chapter.

What fucking chapter?!

All of it.

That's—a lot.

I want all of it. By my desk, by noon tomorrow.

“By” your desk?!

Yes, BY. Not ON. I've got too much stuff on my desk—

…but it's…like 9 o clock.

Should be easy, given your natural talents.

What natural talents.

PEACOCK.

AHAHAHAHA.

Okay. Well.

Well what.

This sucks. I lost all my coins.

Hey.

Ugh.

You dropped this.

So how was Los Angeles.

What the fuck. You fucking DICK.

I told you, I own shares in this.

So what's the plan for this, exactly.

I dunno, Harry.

I got a book of stamps,

And a yellow envelope marked

“Jimmy Fallon”

I will hate you forever.

Well, that's retarded.

I haven't even smited you yet.

I will annihilate you, human.

WHERE'S MY SHIT.

Who the fuck are you, anyway?

Nobody!

No one.

No one cares about this series, yo.

I'l seriously doubt that, Jesse Pinkman.

What is this stuff.

It's your stuff.

This is not what I ordered—

Hey—

Why is it BLUE

Cause it is.

So.

WHY IN THE—

Mischief managed.

Alright. This should be good for the night, but we gotta get out of here by morning;

I thought your parents owned this place.

It's a time share!

So?

So it's like only —part of the time.

That is stupid.

No! You're stupid! You're the one who got us into this mess.

It's your mess, I was just cleaning it up!

Whatever! Stop trippin.

Nobody's “tripping.”

That's it. I'll be a stripper.

Straight outta hell, that kid.

Don't I know it.

Alright, fine.

I said, whatever you do—

DONT watch this show.

Stuff it, J. Slatts. I'll kill you with my eyeballs

Sounds like a threat.

Put on a lawsuit, then.

Maybe I oughtta…

—with a bow tie.

You'll look so pretty.

I thought I was already pretty.

Uh huh.

Yeah, look, so honestly

I don't know if I'll ever be on the same vibration as like,

Jimmy Fallon and them, ok?

I don't know how I did it;

I don't know what did it,

It just happened and then—

And then WHAT.

It just—ended.

Just like that.

I'm not trying to offend anybody here.

Just like that.

Now, I ask:

What are we going to do to sell you this dream?

Doesnt matter what you do, I'll never believe it.

Sure, fine; Don't believe it—

We're gonna make you live it.

Who the hell us “we” anyway?

Now you're speaking in my cadence—

Don't flatter yourself

I like it.

Too late, I guess.

So, you see

We're building

Power triangles

And

love squares

Power triangles

And love squares

Don't let it scare you,

There's love there

Don't let it scare you,

There's love there

Never fear where love has dared

To call you up there

Corrupt file—no fair.

Don't be suprised even the odds seem to turn in your favor,

I promise you;

Nobody's ever ready

For what has just happened here.

WAKE UP, FUCKER.

Ugh, I can't go through this again.

So, I guess I'll have to erase,

Or just secretly publish

Everything I've ever written

About my actual experience as a color,

Just so that I can earn money

As anything other than

A slave—

A maid,

A housekeeper,

A dog walker

Or servitor

So far under her,

That I can't see far enough up to just

Scratch the surface

Her birthright:

The entire network

And mine,

To sit under her,

Wondering what the world would be like

At the other end of the spectrum

The word form of the

White woman

The wicked witch of all directions,

In which I stand in;

I'm at her mercy

I've been abandoned before

But this disservice, is, I'm afraid

The best advice I can take is just

To go straight to the bank with my angst and my hatred

And shove it

So here comes the nameless

Face I love,

Yet,

The faceless God,

Was

Intoxicated, at best—

Manipulation of the Mass Media

I'm so

Seriously jaded

In this torture chamber

In my corner office

In this hall of racists,

I claim, but if all is

One in the same

Then

It's one in the same

And

I'm mainstream

I'm famous

If it's

One in the same

Then

It's one in the same

If it's

One in the same

Then I'm mainstream

I'm so famous

In a whole room full of humans

I'm groomed to be useful for something,

But what?

It just hasn't come yet.

I could sit down with a paper and pen,

But I'm filling up all of my documents

With hollandaise and God

For what?

It's just another song, or something

Or something.

It's just another —

Goddamnit it, more coughs again.

I told you not to watch this.

Why do I taste pancakes?

Maybe you're having a stroke again.

Chyeah, a stroke of genius.

I'll show you a stroke.

Or don't.

Well, there goes the captain.

where is that scene, anyway?

I don't know, I just wrote it.

Great, she left the door open.

She's got no furniture!

It's a “dance floor”

It's “the black box” she called it “the black box”

Goddamn, do you listen to all her stuff?

“Fear stimulates my imagination”

Pilot

ASOT

Fuck man,

What is a woman to a man,

And an androgynous genius to

The industry, or anyone at all

If all are foes ans frauds

All else is toxic!

I woke up with one hand tucked behind my back

Feeling dead drunk,

I just woke up again

But never fell asleep

What world am I in?

The end of the

Dream sequence

The end of the energy keeping me between three things:

My past,

My future

And these prequels,

Sequels

And seeing arrangements

And

She's going crazy

But nobody quite understands

That these demons are chasing me saying

“You deserved those hands in your face”

The scratches on Kayla's back should have had me but

I was too fat

To find love again

And still have something

Wonderfully, undone

And wrong with me

Wrong with me enough to

slam poetry

So I'm guessing the white women I love beyond words and bounds are—

In charge of whatever happens

At the top of the rock;

So I jumped off.

I want to see someone suffer for all that I've done;

No, that's dark, and karmic, you know—

To go on like that;

The confusions and refusal to accept that

The album is called ChaosMagick,

But the cover is more

Urgent,

A prose or a pawn of protection

Against all the coughs

And the reckless mismanagement

The hands in my head

And the eye on my scar

And the lies on my heart

So tell me,

What happens

When you're flying a kite with your heart,

And it's broken?

What happens to the kite ,

When you fly it with your heart

And your art up in bundles—

heartbroken, heartbroken

So what come of Miss May,

Come January?

What come of Miss April

By Next December

what comes of the words I was saying

For no one

But everyone heard them

And I've been gone

Much longer than months,

But still stocked up on all that I've wanted

Or all that I got

Or just, all that I love

But got no undercovera to acknowledge no more

How right I was

Or how wrong I am

What come of Miss June, when Miss January comes around?

what come now, around August,

Whe March is long forgotten?

What comes of the drugs,

Of the come ups, and come downs

What comes of the process

When nothing is served

But the surf has come up

Somewhere

And I just can't love enough

To go there

I want to go to there

I want to be that girl

I want to sit at the top of the rock

Writing songs, and sipping mock cocktails

I want to

Don't you know

I just want to get back to

Where I belong

I'm so out of money and love

That I want to be

Under the train,

When it's coming

(Sometimes it's just the impulse that says

“GO”

Then the train starts to slow

And my pain bubbles up into a numb,

Dumb, crumbling cluster of poetry

You know?

Or you don't

Cause you're all just on your phones

Scrolling

Some black man stands over me,

Reminding me of why I never trust the ones

Who want me most,

Or just assume,

By color code,

That I belong to them

I'm sorry,

I just can't write with your arms around my neck like this

Your heart around my arms like this

It's so wholesome

I had other verses but forgot them

They took away my movies for the curses

And the hexes

That they put on me

I said don't.

And the king said

“Heads will roll”

Cause, you know;

I've got parts for all of them now,

The ones I'd forgotten

But come from the catacombs,

Back from the conduit

You know,

This is awful

I had another one,

But lost it.

The king?!

Which one.

Teas I!

No, it wasn't,

It was Gían's father,

From further off

Should I call John back?

Which one?

Turns out, I love all of them—

Turns out, I've got all of them

In my college

I taught them all to be someone

Becoming of acknowledgement

With nombres most common

Juan, in subcultures, but

Beyond that

(Or above them)

It's John,

Or just Jonathan,

Watch the ones who drop the consanant;

They're always so troublesome,

But I took them all up

As understudies,

Social Studies and some theatrics,

Joan of Ark said

Two more moments

(Two more weeks in)

I could have a body worthy

Of a Grammy award, but —

Would I be a writer then?

Probably not, hon—

Writers are

Off a bit.

If you were pretty, ever at all— would you have written this?!

If I were pretty at all would there be reason to be this

Conflicted?

Some of those old New York hallways

Haven't been painted

In ages

Since they made them

Don't make that face at me

I only dropped my key once

On the fourth floor

—they're horrible, you know

To us,

The “brothers” know no love

They are destruction, speaking

Of this,

I got a cold heart.

Cold like the robber

Cold like the calling I've done in my corner office cold, like the jello mold forming a thought process

Worthy enough

I might love it like a husband

We're re-evaluating your circumstances.

Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean.

I've got friends at USPS

What the fuck could that even account to.

Look, I'm gonna have to give this some serious considerations.

It's not that serious.

It's not that serious.

Of course it is!

I'm up to my knees in investments!

So?!

I wade a waiste deep,

Surely you can get by

“Up to your knees”

What exactly do you need?

Money. And lots of it.

I mean, from me.

Money.

Really?

Leave me alone.

I told you not to write this.

You're a voice in my head;

No, I'm the hand in your mailbox.

What in the fuck do you believe in.

I believe in everything!

They said you were a genius;

I didn't expect you to be

—at the very least, lucid—

*squints* learn some new vocabulary, okay?

For what?

Dinner.

Maybe.

We're still in the process of voting.

She's crazy.

We'd be crazy not to actually hire her.

Her accounts are all practically open;

We could just take it.

Yeah, and when she kills herself, and there's no blood on our hands—

There's nothing that can be done about the amount of this stuff that's already printed!

Printed?!

What?!

You mean—

She's published?

Self-published.

My, what a beautiful happenstance

To have already had you

And awakened atop mattresses

Marked for my assassins hand—

Polite, I lost you

All of us,

Atop the rock

We stood and suffered

Months beyond a montage,

Undercover

Love was lost,

And all's uncertain

The interception of God,

At the cost of

What terror and cutbacks

Have caused us all

What you lost was $50, a Hallmark Card, an Academy award, a long lost star's phone number,

And all that you wanted,

The cock of the gun

Was the sound that you wondered

What was called

, then ran off into wonder.

How am I gonna make money

And become an award winning songwriter

Music producer

And multidisciplinary artist,

Without all the funding it takes to get noviced

Without taking clothes off

Wake up 10 years younger

I'm suffering

My stomach was a rubber band

My stomach was a rubber band

My only song was Water

I forgot to stop

For the applause

I drowned in all the love; right then and there

I died of

Lovenessness

[The Festival Project]

The sound and laughter of children play

A baby in a basket

The basket case at Trader Joe's

Who know what happens

It just doesn't pull my heartstrings any longer

That my son belongs without his mother

So I'd better have another

This is us, come on.

Don't do this to me.

Don't do this, Timmy, you'll be sorry.

Come on! We're not even in that movie!

We are, though; it's still

Listen, you've got the right guy for this.

Are you sure.

Yeah, I promise.

Officers,

Stop for a *movement

[hot cops flash dance number]

Fuck, well, that was all wrong.

But worth it!

What I meant was—

God, this show gets good at 31,

But I'm only 22,

So I guess I'll know how wrong the war was

Once we've lost it,

Cause imm a man now

The episode is over,

Soon comes the next episode

With snoop dogg,

Or not

That was our wedding album.

Scatterbrained, and pregnant—

There she was just putting all the things together

That she needed to be

Needed

To be needed.

There she was,

All on 4/20

Trying not to do the wrong thing,

But what was it?

To be loved.

Then,

There she was at 21 just going off again

At some event—

A friend, and her

Back then could not imagine

They'd become him

To be someone.

Not as one,

But of entirely another

World apart, aside from

Cyclones into snow cones

Turns the watchers into artists

All their own,

And off my own accord

Or own account

Or done with boredom

Dove soap

Open doors

And clocks that turn the other hand away,

Each day you love Manhattan

But can't have that.

That's it—

This is just Season 1 of Mad Men

WHERE THE FUCK IS—

[she throws her hands above her head in surrender]

I don't KNOW!

Oh, you're a girl now?!

I guess!

What's with those pants, then?

To hide the assets!

What assets?! You look tragic.

I'm going for ‘skeleton' to match all your wives and everybody else on the red carpet

Who said you get the red carpet?

Manhattan.

That guy lies!

Well how about this:

The walk of stars were carved out in blocks of marble

All in my honor.

1000/1

You're our God, now.

What!

I don't want to be God!

SUCK IT UP. YOU WON.

I don't wanna!

Yaaaaaaayyy. You got the award!

All the awards!

Speech!

Speech!

SUNNI BLŪ

Uh—-

I'm drunk,

And there's nothing on the teleprompter

[a man in the audience coughs]

A-HEM.

[Sunni Blū immidiateky shoots the coughing man]

[multi-camera shots of celebrity audience reactions; laughing, clapping in hilarity as if someone hasn't just died]

TAYLOR SWIFT

(unmoved at all)

SUNNÏ BLŪ

I don't know why you're laughing.

That was awful.

That guy died

[audience is insane, super fake as usual]

[more cut takes]

SUNNÏ BLŪ

It should have been you, Taylor.

TAYLOR SWIFT

(Still unaffected)

SUNNI BLU

Anyway. I'd like to thank the academy…

Cause I am the academy

[Audience is celebrities being celebrities]

SUNNI BLU

You guys are all idiots:

I'm a go f*ck myself—

And anyone else who wants to show up

At my afterparty.

Whatever.

Peace.

[cheesy academy award music plays—Sunnï knocks over the mic, peaces out obnoxiously; the audience cheers wildly and the host returns to the stage.]

Who's the host?

Whatever.

Hey, better than nothin.

You're telling me.

yeah.

I know:

Oh, she's a comic?

Yeah.

I got it.

BOB SAGET

Ooh, that's good.

Ū

No—no my God.

No Bob Saget, stop it!

Wait, Bob Saget is dead right?

Last I recall:

Fuck—FUCK!

Dammit. Dammit, dammit.

Okay, Rue— you're up.

Rue, what in the—

Shhhh, don't let them know I'm in here!

Oh, wait—

It's me, Blanche.

That's hot.

I'm a debutant.

My god, you're so young.

Here, take this,

What's that,

You'll need that.

V.O.

I'm being hunted by the ghost of Bob Saget.

*haunted.

No, hunted!

There she is! Grab her!

Ooh, Bob Saget.

Why, yes.

How old are you?

Not dead yet!

You don't have to kidnap me, I'll happily go with you, sir.

Really?

Yes.

GET IN THE—

NOH,

GET IN THE VAN.

INT. IN THE VAN.

[a bunch of hot male celebrities are in the van]

Oh. Okay.

Wow.

That was easy.

What is it, Friday.

It's Friday and a half.

Friday.5

What.

There's a Friday movie between 1 and 2

So I guess this is season 8.5

I guess this is season 8.5

HEY, GET BACK HERE.

What is this.

It's your lunch.

I don't want this.

Well, okay.

What— is this strange music—

They call it dubstep

Come on, Jimmy, you're slipping

Kimmel, cause Fallon is dead or presumed missing

Probably Skrillex

Probably a bounty on his head, Dog willing

The Festival Priojects Inclement Infinite

Is coming up next, on Legends

Come on Jim,

KEEP UP.

Nobody can know about this, okay?

Wait, where's Kimmel

Okay,

I got O'Brien—

Black Irish Bastard…

Alright, Alec Baldwin is a little tied up, right now, but

LEMON,

Fuck.

That's l—future me.

What?!

I gotta go, okay?!

What? Go where.

Let's get DRUNK.

No, That's—I got a show tonight

What?!

Look at my lexicon.

Your—what,

Meet me on Lexington.

Oh, this pussy is finished!

I got it, I got it! He's

LENNONNNNN!!

JOHN LENNON

Fuck. Look, I gotta go.

John Lennon?!

You're dead!

Funny, I thought not.

Watch this.

MOOOOOOOOOOOM.

Fuck,

What,

It's my kid. I gotta go.

Wait, you have kids?!

Well, I just had you, didn't I?

“The mayor” is a secret underground rap star

lol

#trappin

Okay,

What's else happened

Idk hold on

Okay,

So whats the sauce on this sandwich.

Oh.

Jeez, this again.

That *sandwhich?

Hah.

There's no sauce on that sandwhich.

—there's not!?

No:

You see.

It's very simple.

WAKE UP, YOU'RE A ROCKSTAR.

we gotta take the train.

The train?!

NO.

NOTTHETRAIN.

NO.

Man, fuck the train!

[SUNNI BLŪ wakes up on the train.]

What's this, the train?

[is the train]

(Angrily, tossing newspaper)

Man, FUCK the train!

Other hobo:

Aww, thanks, I need that for my—

[s/he snatches back the paper].

Wait! I need that back—what day is it?

[drunkenly illegible gibberish turns into perfect Hebrew]

GODDAMMIT, it's Shabbat;

I gotta get to Temple.

[s/he shoves the newspaper back into the hobo's lap]

Here.

Oh no, I thought I couldn't forget

RABI

FUCK

_]€_#

WHAT WAS IT

GODDAMIT IT WAS SO CLEVER.

God

So it was…

What did you do with it?

Do with what

My idea

what idea

My—my rabbi joke—

What rabbi joke

you know what rabbi joke! You were the one who gave it to me.

Oh, did I?

YES, SATAN, JESUS.

GOD

Ohh, Satan-Jesus. I like that one.

NO— it was—

It was much better than that, it was—

It was funny.

Oh, it was?

YES.

—did you write it down?

Fuck,

I realize I just opened a

A FUCK PORTAL.

OHH, GET IN IT,

GET INSIDE.

I had an Artemis in my pocket

But I lost him

Walked away from the cornermarker

And the cornerstone, for the sunset

I wonder if songs always come

When I'm walking,

Or

God makes us promises,

For world of

I'm not JB, I'm KG,

Can you see me now?

If you could see what I see,

We'd be even

wtf did I just write this

And not realize I just wrote this

Yeah.

That shit happens to me all the time.

WHAT.

ALL THE TKMEx

Shut up,

THE ANDRE3K CHARADES GAME is getting intense.

What in the FUCK is that.

*flutes*

Ohh.

And

KITES.

yyyyyYYYYYYYAAAAAHHH——

GODDAMMIT.

I can't see really, I just dream

I'm not thinking, I'm dancing

This is what you asked for

Exactly what you asked for

For once,

I'm finally glad I have your eyes on

My friend

I can see you all on the horizon,

Singing

NO, NO MORE MUSICALS!!

Jimmy, what did you do?!

I don't know what I did!

You lyin bastard.

I'm not lying!