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

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

By Three InitiatesComedy
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| L E G E N D S: ICONS. | episodes

  • Happy Birthday, Supacree.

    “That's not fair, Dillon Francis”, I thought to myself—the next day was April first, and though I had explicitly tried to forget it was my birthday, 30 years of it being so had become ingrained into my psyche; though I hadn't been able to sleep until around 3 in the morning, I had still gone to be without thinking it, the dread of the looming midnight hour crouching upon my spinal chord, as I angrily skittered about my room—I had been personally offended—I felt I was being so harshly disrespected, having waited a hefty amount of what could have been valuable alone time without my roommate's presence to bother me—and though I had at least once gotten great deal of work done shutting her out with Ableton, i lately hadn't even the slightest energy, a frazzled focus, and an inability to settle into understanding what exactly I would have to do for money to get by in the worlds I was either living in or teetering between, neither of which I could decide—while something in me did indeed feel alive, I still felt the nuisance of death ever present in my daily happenings—still suprised I was in New York City, still suprised I was alive at all, and still hyper aware that I had somehow built this masterful and synchronization chaos somewhere in the limetless expanse of time and space, both utterly also my rapidly expanding and collapsing cosmic creations.

    April 1st first and foremost had levitated—initially hard to forget, as it had been of course after the last actual birthday I had specifically celebrated—a birthday I still had implicitly vivid memories of, and even the remninces of something which had at first seemed unimportant and vague, but increasingly became—especially up to now—extremely important memories, decoded messages unraveled in the wake of all the meticulously moving parts of the ever endless dues Ex machina, though something or another did seem to be coming to a closing of sorts.

    It was supposed to be an uneventful and unremarkable day, which meant that I was to do nothing discuss in particular for my birthday at all—however, the remarkable coincidence of sorts that on this day, i had run out of all my protein powder, maca, super greens—and even of course—the only thing that the shelter served that I would eat—the “free bananas”—were gone—of course, I had been taking between 8 and twelve at a time and sometimes even up to 20 at once, having run out of money on my food stamps and having even dwindled down my cash assistance trying to stay afloat, it had strangely become obvious somewhere in my soul that I preferred large amount of time to the small amounts of money I would recurve from working a job I didn't want, and though there were jobs I perhaps did want and liked the idea of working, I hadn't yet to focus to wrap my mind around filling out the applications, which I hated even the thought of—the monotony of low-end job searching had become quite painful enough in fact that it felt wrong.

    Our birthdays last a year--

    Woah--thats awesome--!

    --and they're miserable.

    GOD.

    Happy Birthday, tomorrow

    I love you today

    —I love you asleep

    —I love you awake



    And when you wake up, the first thing I'll say is Happiest, Happiest Happy Birthday

    {Enter The Multiverse}



    [The Festival Project.™]



    COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©



    -U.

    23 min
  • The Formation of Language

    In this installment, which follows Scary Monsters and SupaCree and crosses over into both DILLONCEPTION, and enter the multiverse.

    Having nearly abandoning the ideal of becoming a superstar DJ, a reality she had previously become certain of, but given up on after being led to believe the DJ world is one ruled by white supremacy, SUPACREE, going by “CC” and operating under the pen name CC stone crafts a somewhat plausible future in entertainment, still creating music under the moniker “Sunni Blu” or DJ U, still passionately attached to Djing, though as a hobby, rather than as a potential career. In a pseudo-suicidal depressive state, our protagonist explores all the infinite realms of her own creation, drifting into a lucid God-Dream in which all the dimensions of her writings exist, in each respective reality, sometimes crossing timelines from one “fictional” realm into another, as the writer struggles with her own self-confidence and self-actualization.



    We Open With A Blockbuster-Style Movie Trailer.

    {Enter The Multiverse}



    [The Festival Project.™]



    COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©



    -U.











    23 min
  • “The Tina Fey Thing”

    JIMMY FALLON IS IN TEARS, riding a fully packed bus through the Bronx after being separated from AMY PEOLER AND TINA FEY

    There he is!

    Jimmy, you idiot!

    You found me!



    Tina Fey?!

    no! Not Tina fey

    No, you're Tina Fey, you're definitely Liz lemony!

    No! It's not' it's me! Skrillex!



    No—

    GET OUT OF HERE.

    {Enter The Multiverse}



    [The Festival Project.™]



    COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©



    -U.







    23 min
  • Hell Phone Resident Advisor
    “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 exact— 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 catalogue albums
    Now 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 racing
    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've 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*
    So I finally found the picture,
    And just stare at it
    I never really know what else to do
    So I just stare at it
    I used to keep it in the background,
    As my wallpaper,
    But couldn't stand it
    I'm just a fanatic, i--
    I am
    Just a fanatic
    Damn
    I'm just a fanatic
    I never found my attic
    and
    My speaker set was stolen
    Just before one was about to blow
    (Before one was about to blow)
    I think I might go get my passport
    So I can just flee
    But I just don't know where to go
    (But I just don't know where to go)
    You probably hate me
    Or
    I hate me just enough for just the both of us
    I told you,
    I'm so sorry
    (I am sorry, I am sorry)
    You don't have to worry,
    I would never follow you;
    Online, or in the streets
    I'm just a fiend, I'm just an addict
    (Likeness is what you've attracted)
    So, there is no moving forward
    And there is no going back
    I want to go to Harvard
    But there is no going back
    And I used to think I had it,
    Turns out, I'm just "average"
    Got a job,
    But couldn't stand it, I
    I'm just a fanatic, i--
    I am
    Just a fanatic
    Damn
    I'm just a fanatic
    I woke up from a bad dream
    And your music was so calming
    But I didn't really listen
    I was really only waking
    I just wished that I could listen
    But I wish a lot of things
    I wish to make this song I'm writing
    And wish you'd approve of me
    I wish that I was really pretty
    So I didn't have to try
    I wish I was so pretty that I could just look you in the eye
    I wish that you would stop and peep my Twitter page while scrolling by
    I wish that maybe I was half as pretty as my pretty vibe
    I wish that anytime I did something, you loved it every time
    I wish that when I think about you, I don't always have to cry
    I wish the girl who took the photograph was right here by my side;
    So I could ask if she or God herself adjusted all the light
    I want to know if she or God herself adjusted all the light
    I want to know not wonder why you both are always on my mind
    I wish I knew if she or God herself found peace where I found mine
    {Enter The Multiverse}
    [The Festival Project.™]
    COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023
    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©
    -U.
    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.
    20 min
  • FANATIC.
    So I finally found the picture,
    And just stare at it
    I never really know what else to do
    So I just stare at it
    I used to keep it in the background,
    As my wallpaper,
    But couldn't stand it
    I'm just a fanatic, i--
    I am
    Just a fanatic
    Damn
    I'm just a fanatic
    I never found my attic
    and
    My speaker set was stolen
    Just before one was about to blow
    (Before one was about to blow)
    I think I might go get my passport
    So I can just flee
    But I just don't know where to go
    (But I just don't know where to go)
    You probably hate me
    Or
    I hate me just enough for just the both of us
    I told you,
    I'm so sorry
    (I am sorry, I am sorry)
    You don't have to worry,
    I would never follow you;
    Online, or in the streets
    I'm just a fiend, I'm just an addict
    (Likeness is what you've attracted)
    So, there is no moving forward
    And there is no going back
    I want to go to Harvard
    But there is no going back
    And I used to think I had it,
    Turns out, I'm just "average"
    Got a job,
    But couldn't stand it, I
    I'm just a fanatic, i--
    I am
    Just a fanatic
    Damn
    I'm just a fanatic
    I woke up from a bad dream
    And your music was so calming
    But I didn't really listen
    I was really only waking
    I just wished that I could listen
    But I wish a lot of things
    I wish to make this song I'm writing
    And wish you'd approve of me
    I wish that I was really pretty
    So I didn't have to try
    I wish I was so pretty that I could just look you in the eye
    I wish that you would stop and peep my Twitter page while scrolling by
    I wish that maybe I was half as pretty as my pretty vibe
    I wish that anytime I did something, you loved it every time
    I wish that when I think about you, I don't always have to cry
    I wish the girl who took the photograph was right here by my side;
    So I could ask if she or God herself adjusted all the light
    I want to know if she or God herself adjusted all the light
    I want to know not wonder why you both are always on my mind
    I wish I knew if she or God herself found peace where I found mine
    {Enter The Multiverse}
    [The Festival Project.™]
    COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023
    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©
    -U.
    23 min
  • -The Summoning.

    And I want a PhD. In something...spacey. like astrophysics. Or engineering. Something that would qualify me to be an astronaught.

    You want to be an astronaught?

    Maybe.

    I thought you wanted to be a DJ.

    UH. I want to be a DJ in space.

    For what?!

    Doesn't matter, Satan. Just make it happen.

    Consider it done.

    I'm Not finished.

    I figured…

    ________

    And! Hands off my offspring, Satan. No untimely deaths, no debilitating diseases; and no country music fans--without providing said child gains a noteworthy career in country music.

    What?

    But my kids--no touchy. Any of them ever. They stay with God.

    Which God?

    Not you.

    _____

    And I get to keep possession of my soul, until all this is said and done; signed,sealed, delivered.

    Are you kidding me?

    Why would I kid around with Satan? Seems dangerous.

    Mm.

    So, I keep my soul until everything outlined in this contract is fulfilled.

    This...is a lifetimes worth of achievements.

    What's wrong? Devil can't dance?

    Actually, I'm a very good dancer.

    Alright then, let's do this.

    This is...a lot of specifics. I'm going to need some collateral…

    Collateral? I don't have anything valuable. Why else would I be here?!

    You have a point.

    And you have a pointy tail, in real life. Nice flex though.

    Thank you.

    Okay look. I don't have anything anybody would want or need; that's pretty much why I summoned you for in the first place.

    Mm, no I can't be summoned--thats a myth.

    Mmkay, well then how did you get here?

    I'm pretty much always around.

    Oh.

    Yeah, I uh. Own property in Vegas.

    Who doesn't?

    You.

    Well I want property in Vegas.

    That's not in the--

    Look...harder.

    ...wow.

    So if you can't be summoned, how do I have the "honor" of your grotesque presence, today.

    Well, I pray on the weak.

    Clearly.

    I've been watching you for awhile, now.

    That was you?

    Amongst others.

    Like who?

    You'll see.

    Huh.

    Plus, you're pretty cute.

    Uhhh.

    Might stay like this for awhile. I could really probably fuck shit up.

    {Enter The Multiverse}



    [The Festival Project.™]



    COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©



    -U.

    23 min
  • Not A Doctor (Not Yet)

    Would the doctor make a house call

    Or 10

    Would he do it again

    To anyone who may just let him in

    Well it depends,

    On if the doctor is even in

    Do you have a pen?

    Or pencil it in

    He'll fill your prescription

    When his bender ends

    {Enter The Multiverse}



    [The Festival Project.™]



    COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©



    -U.



    23 min
  • [The] Most Intense Inception Ever.
    I just want a drum machine
    (or a time machine)
    And a surf board,
    On a lonely beach;
    Maybe a couple other things
    For sound quality,
    I mean really.
    All I see is,
    All I see is,
    Me up in a tree somewhere
    I didn't mean to be so
    Careful
    We're over another Volcano;
    I didn't mean to put that there
    Oh,
    Where are we anyway?
    ___
    What are you doing?
    Galloping.
    Horse.
    I thought we were running away from Skrillex.
    Oh, we are.
    Wait.
    Well then, what are you doing?
    I'm calculating.
    Calculating; I thought you were galloping?
    It is a calculated gallop.
    How graceful.
    Theoretically.
    Huh.
    ___
    “Josh”
    Where are you?
    Where am I? Where are you?
    I thought you'd be in LA right now!
    LA? Why would I be in LA right now? I'm hideous!
    Are you serious?
    Are you? Quit Joshing!
    Alright, i'm not Joshing--whose Joshing?
    You are--you're Joshing.
    Stoppit, I'm not.
    Cut To:
    Hey Josh.
    [Josh is playing a video game. He nods, barely.]
    Would you mind doing those dishes?
    Yeah, i'll get to it.
    [Doesn't.]
    ____
    Where's Dillon Francis?
    I haven't seen him.
    No one has.
    This always happens.
    What happened?
    I'm kinda worried about him.
    Should we call him?
    We should call him.
    ____
    Oh what, now Dillon Francis is missing?
    Dillon Francis, exactly.
    _____
    Hugo Pierre Leclercq
    ….
    Follow Us.
    ___
    So wait, what the fuck is going on?
    Apparently, Dillon Francis is missing.
    Well, where is he?
    Well, honestly, where isn't he?
    Excuse me?
    You're excused.
    I...
    Okay, look; First of all--
    Agh!
    Dillon Francis can't be Nowhere, he's Everywhere.
    Okay, what?
    Secondly,
    Not this again--
    Wait, what was I about to say?
    Exactly.
    Exactly; Dillon Francis.
    Who is, where, exactly?
    Exactly.
    [Dillon Francis is standing, Exactly.)
    This is exciting.
    Of course it's exciting, it's Dillon Francis.
    Yeah, it is.
    (It is.)
    __
    Okay, so they're gathering all the DJs?
    They're gathering all the DJs.
    Every DJ?
    No, just all the DJs.
    Oh.
    Okay, so--
    Wait, what the fuck Exactly is going on?
    {Exactly.}
    Wait, where Is--
    Nobody seems to know.
    [Dillon Francis has been in jail for a really long time.]
    Oh, no!
    Oh, yes! Wait--are we back at ‘Dillonception'
    Dillonception?!
    I think.
    Wait.
    What?
    Just a minute; What channel is this?
    Nevermind!
    Nevermind, what? What are we watching.
    Nothing!
    It's not nothing; what network is this? What are we watching? What is this?
    It's, uh--Satelite...Cable...Tesla--uhh…
    Uh-huh; Let me see your router.
    “Router”, what's a “router”?
    AHA, I knew it! you have interdimensional cable.
    Nah.
    Ah-ha. Now I see. Where did you get this?
    I didn't.
    Psh, quittit, I know you can get it from Skrillex.
    I didn't. It was gifted.
    Gifted, how could he “gift” it?
    It's not from Skrillex.
    Wait, it's not.
    Nah, it's not I told you it was a gift, it was gifted.
    What do you mean “gifted”? This is extra terrestrial technology; How is this a “gift”
    Extraterrestrial? Wait, Skrillex is an alien?
    Uh, fucking, duh.
    I thought it was just a gimmick.
    ---
    Anyway, I don't know anything about “extraterrestrial technology”, just that it's rare--and i'm not supposed to have it.
    What, did all this come in the card attached?
    Yeah, actually.
    ________
    What comes with a side of
    “I just don't feel like it,”
    Is it,
    Dillon Francis, or just
    Something simple--
    What's in it?
    What's coming out of the oven,
    I wonder if it's muffin's or,
    something organic…
    I keep panicking and panicking
    with Panic at the Disco playing
    While i'm getting baked thanking
    Satan for making me a no name
    As I play for acres and pray
    I feel better with a hat on
    i'd feel better if my dragon was
    Less of a dragon and,
    More of a hot blonde with hypnotic
    somber somethings, or
    Anything magnetic maybe, or--
    whatever flavor's yours, or--
    Whoever this is for.
    I'm on the floor trying to remember
    What for, exactly.
    SKRILLEX.
    Man, I fucking hate Vegas.
    Yeah, me too.
    I'm not staying here.
    Just stay here.
    I'm not staying here.
    Just stay here!
    I'm not staying here.
    Just stay.
    No!
    ____
    An exclusive Costume Party in The Hollywood Hills
    Each attendee has been given a mysterious packet with specific instructions catered to each participant
    ____
    HIGHLIGHTS:
    -SupaCree's “Smear” Campaign
    -TiTs
    _______
    “The Bedroom DJ”
    A performer in decline begins “piggybacking”
    ____
    Are you as jaded
    As I am
    Seems like it
    Well at least
    Seems like it
    To Me
    I'm sorry
    We're Jaded
    I'm sorry
    We're Jaded
    I'm sorry
    We're Jaded
    I'm sorry
    I'm sorry
    I'm faded
    Something is
    Something was
    Something isn't
    Something wasn't
    Something is,
    Something was
    Something isn't
    Something wasn't
    But it was
    Because it was
    But it was
    Because of us
    ______
    Hi,
    Hows your life?
    This is mine.
    I was just wondering
    If you might
    Know what it's like
    To die
    Like I do
    Why
    Would I
    Lie
    Should I
    Is there a prize for dying twice, dude?
    Or trying to??
    Is there something I should do?
    Or that I should know?
    I don't know if I should go home or not;
    I'll probably close the roads--
    I'm gonna gooo….
    Rain.
    {Enter The Multiverse}
    [The Festival Project.™]
    COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023
    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©
    23 min

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

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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.