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Skrillex and Dillon Francis battle furiously over the devotion of their biggest fan—

AHEM.

Right.

Over the love and devotion of their biggest fan.

That's right!

Oh please. How is anyone going to believe that.

Just believe!!

Believe it!

Bbbbbbblllllliiieeevveeeeeee!!

Fuck this shit.

Uh, no thanks.

Skinny white girls.

Send the Becky's.

Hot white girls.

Ah, oh shit.

Send The White Bitchus.

MILEY, PLEASE STOP.

FUCK TINA FEY!!!!

I HATE YOU!!!

WHERE'S SUPACREE?!?

SUPACREE: fuck supacree.

You are supacree.

I'm not supacree.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

SKRILLEX IS EVIL.

I NEED GECS.

FUCK YOUR GECS.

FUCK YOUR SKRILLEX.

(Eggageratwd gasp)

TAKE THAT BACK!

TAKE SKRILLEX BACK.

ALL SALES FINAL.

JUST DATE HIM.

No.

Just—come on!

No!!

Why not, yo.

Fuck Dillon Francis.

I said no.

Nancy Reagan: just say no!

Uhhhhhh.

That's a lot of money.

Yes it is. Ii

SHE SAID YESSSSS!! [Tom Cruising]

After being exposed as u and as a female though questionably, Dillon Francis and Supacree begin dating as a PR stunt to cause a media frenzy and paparazzi uproar; OWSLA revolts

Where is Skrillex this whole time??

Wherever the fuck he is. Who the fuck cares.

With Kay”-

They're not together!!!

So we're in denial?

She's a robot

No, she's just white.

She's a porn star

Just as likely!!

No, she's just— well, maybe

FAKE LIP HOE

fake boobs, too

So is she just a nicki Minaj

She's a nicki mirage—

What's that mean?

She doesn't exist.

HEY.

Oh, hey

I HAVE TALENT.

Sorry nicki

Fuck your Skrillex!

By all means

Fuck dude, I might have to kill myaelf again

Again m? DIDNT you already do that?

I just did this?

I've been here

I remember this.

No way. I just did this?

How close are we?

We're getting close.

Bet you she jumps

Bet she slits her wrists

She'll chicken out

No, she does it—I've seen this.

You've seen this?!

It's a rerun?

A rerun?!

What's a rerun?

This is live?

It's a taping.

What!

It's live action!

In real-time HD

I HATE YOU.

I HATE THIS.

Where's Dillon Francis

He quit

I was hacked

I got it

Oh no.

Oh NO.

Don't tell me—

Okay. Fuck this. I quit.

What!

I can't do this.

It's just acting.

Look, no offense—

Oh I remember this, he said

Look no offense, but—

You're not my type.

He's not my type!

You have a type?

He's not my—

—

—-

—-

Where's Skrillex?

You're an idiot.

OH.

Oh, YEAH.

I did this.

Yea, you did

You dumb bitch

HE KNEW THIS?

He stole it?

It was HIM?

Honestly, I'm all for it, just

ACTION!

AAAAAHHHHHHHH——

Oh, no—

DILLON FRANCIS, YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!

SUPACREE—

I thought supacree is dead

She is—

Okay, then—

THE MASKED BANANA ATTACKS DILLON FRANCIS ON THE SET OF HIS MUSIC VIDEO, “REACHING OUT”

Oh no.

PANDA.

What the fuck! Am I late?

WHO ARE YOU?

get out of here josh pan! You're not even in this.

I am in this. Here's my contract.

(He produces a folded piece of paper)

.

FUCK

Who: Skrillex.

What: What? What's a Skrillex?

When: INFINITE--I TOLD YOU--! IN-FIN-

Where: Which dimension was this?

Why: “Why, yes, I--I know why!”

How: “How.”

Okay, lets figure this out--so. If “U” comes down the mountain, frantically looking for Dillon Francis, and ends up blasting into current reality, after getting out of the hospital, moves south to san diego, but never makes it to Mexico--where SupaCree meets Gerald, then...U, who blasts thorough the panoramic window, kicking dillon francis's ass (and already knows Gerald), has to happen “after” The Masked Banana and the Bampheramps initiate Dillon Francis, who is paid $10 to Deliver Skrillex to “U” as reality shatters, but theoretically speaking, actually has to be SupaCree, having already returned from Mexico, Which U encourages for him to leave to, I guess arriving as SupaCree and Gerald are headed for the border, which I guess leaves an easy opening for the Federales to turn her over to the Secret Service, who orders her to divulge her favorite DJ, who really is, at that point, Dillon Francis, prompting them to retrieve him at his home and as he is tortured by the Secret Service becomes hardened and agrees to cooperate, so they arm him with the Rave weapons that he has when U bursts through the panoramic window, and he pretty much doesn't even react, and Gerald greets U, who he recognizes as a friend.

This is all actually happening at the same time.

Okay, so where is Skrillex?

Beats the fuck outta me.

Why is she mad at him?

I think, maybe because she's been on a wild goose chase the entire time.

Ah, yes, the SupaCree and Skrillex animated movie.

That's correct; They settle in Mexico, yes?

At least for awhile, I think…

Well, how does that movie go?

“The Brothers” love to party, so they take The SupaCree

(were you sure it was a supacree?)

((Some kind of tesseract--))

(Is that what that even means?)

((I guess.))

(((you have to know. Go google it)))

Okay, not a tesseract--or possibly--who cares. A giant spacecraft, which their little sister, a very strange and interesting--I don't know, I think she had a beak, and hair like a pineapple or something? Hard to see it now

Hard to see anything, actually--isn't it?

I do need to do something with it

Gather all the Dillon Francis.

That;s it. What does Dillon Francis have to do with ANYTHING--

That's his magic.

Duh. That has to be the reason for “anything”, if it means you're writing scenes for Dillon Francis, which, by the way-- are funny -- and, by the way, makes you the new Hunter S. Thompson.

New? I'm the old Hunter S. Thompson.

I do keep wondering why the heavens must think it's funny to use use as a channel for any soul that needs a body.

Yeah well, it's only entertaining when it's entertainers, otherwise it's just humiliating.

Fix the writing. Send it. This is what you need.

I need a way to get to “me” to connect the things in all these scenes. That scene where U breaks through the window--which U is it?

Possibly the ninja urging Skrillex to flee to Tijuana.

That would actually make sense, maybe but how does SupaCree ge tThe Skrillex randomly to give to Skrillex?

Isn't that the thing the Masked Banana takes after smashing Gerald's body again, I think?

I think.

So I think that makes sense, since she has the magic to defeat him.

What about the chicken wing scene, Chak Chel's super young, I think;

He recognized her, so when did they meet?

When she hijacks him on the Uber that leaves him “Nowhere”, which is actually..okay, enough. It doesn't really matter.

Yes it does, if I don't know it nobody else will get it either. These things have to be able to be answered. I'm the showrunner.

Showrunner? I thought you were the actor!

I'm the everything if it ever sees the day of light, even Dillon Francis. For all intensive purposes. And Thematically, speaking.

Don't spoil it.

Spoil what? Nobody's even reading it.

Or have you forgotten the reality where actually, yes, someone is reading this?

Not really, but I just forget to care a bit and unleash. I need it. I have nothing left .

The laptop, don't forget the evil version of that special someone who you're trying to get to stealing everything you've got, so you would write the plot of II U. Which is…?

After Scary Monsters, SupaCree goes back to Skrillex, after Dillon Francis, Bampheramphing delivers him, then dips and now she has to take, while everyone is hunting him, for whatever reason, back to Skrillex, which she leaves him in...

That's right, she's U that entire movie, and disappears at the end, sending Sonny back to burning man, where the third josh pan from the ascended masters asks if he wants to trade and maybe that's the gap, I think, which makes When Worlds Collide make any sense, if When Worlds Collide combine all of the events as aforementioned, then, as the battle happens SupaCree and Skrillex, Dillon Francis are all everywhere and nowhere, Bampherampin, shapeshifting as they have to under certain circumstances and becoming one another, or anyone at all, just to revolve around the revolving doors in all the worlds, which ends, and that just has to be the beginning, Where SupaCree as GAD addresses everyone, before anything is anything and nothing has happened, but it already has, and already is and Skrillex has been banished, but unanimously everyone keeps asking “where is Skrillex?” because the whole thing never happens without Original Cree Googling the instruments her favorite musician uses; that's before the Scary Monsters show up wreaking havoc for “Their Master” taking her through all the past, and everything that ever happened, leading up to loving Skrillex, to which, the significance really is so many thing that matter, that there isn't SupaCree or EDC or Dillon Francis if there's not a Skrillex, or a Sonny Moore to make it.

True.

FUCK.

Are you serious?

As a Skrillex. There's no SupaCree without Skrillex.

GAY.

It is, kinda. And on some, what I guess is a genetic level, something that was just supposed to happen?

Yeah, because SupaCree IS the future president of the united states.

WHAT?

I told you, it's infinite.

That was just something I used to want.

That's the only thing you're even getting, if we're being clear.

Bullshit.

What do you think it all meant to be?

Look, i'm not running, I told you.

Maybe that's why they used Sonny.

If they knew me like they know me, and they're always keeping track--then why would they replace Jon, literally, with someone even--

Why anything, if this is the realm of possibility, and everything means everything, so you still get to be a DJ?

Oh. Snap.

Oh, snap--that's right, Raven. What happened to the scenes where she's just acting as a stand in---or the ones where Raven's writing this, as you get it from the masters? Or the Raving Ravens, shifting into Ravens at the dances, and the raves where all the magic battles actually happen; Raven Raves in Space, and also, meditates with Sammi, as he Bampheraphs the characters from all the places that keep coming up, where people under scared keep wondering “WHAT THE FUCK IS THaT SHIT?”

OR the part where SupaCree gets really fucking mad, and just takes all beautiful things you can imagine, and just leaves the earth a stagnant, godless, evil-people planet; with no moon, no sun, no stars, no music, and no human kindness; leaving people with no homes, no food, and no magic. They're just in a void, where nothing ever can and ever will happen.

And then?

Skrillex shows up. Right?

I guess, that's where he was banished.

Damn, this is some crazy shit.

And SupaCree goes back, refusing ever to go back to that “primitive planet full of savages”, unleashing, just like Jesus did when he returned and energetic magic-wreaking-havoc on whatever. This is impossible.

Nothing is impossible. Go on.

Go on TO WHAT? IT just doesn't END.

Yeah, Infinite.

SO I don't even know where to start.

REmember? Start with Dillon Francis, just connect the dots…

Connect the dots, she Says, like in Jack U?

“I am the line between your eyes,” she writes

Whose eyes?

Oh, you know who.

Oh, you know--who knows Dillon Francis and the everybody you just wrote a massive fan-girl hope-it-don't-blow-back but -not-a-fan-fic, but you can't sell out your Skrillex, as if you ever really had shit, or a reason to protect his ass, cause he don't fuck with that shit.

What's that shit?

ANYOFIT.

Goddamn. That got dark.

Or, Deep, if you're asking Hanzel.

What else did we leave out?

All the series in Festival Trip, which you seem to just “Forget” is really how you started this.

I started that with Levitation, which I still don't really get, and ended up with all the fasting, just to levitate again.

But what about the show Ascension or Beyond the Senses, if you can even remember what the plot of either of them is.

I still remember, it's just open-ended, every artist really gets their albums all interpreted in this creative vision.

That's just it, you're just envisioning, you're never taking action.

And you're always being watched, and tracked, in someway or another.

Somewhere, someone has the map, you know--you fucking lost it.

Well, I don't really care about that, I lost my fucking Skrillex. I can't even fucking listen now, it hurts me just to hear it, and what used to be my favorite thing, man...I can't even hear it--

But it also seems, you can't not-hear it, cause you get the itch after awhile of never listening, a sudden need for Skrillex.

Or, if, something like an addict, you just fiend and then you need it; and, just like an addiction, you reach for it when you panic, or you're sad, or lost or lonely--have you ever even though that? That you're not obsessive, or insane--you're really just an addict.

It's a fucking synthesis or things, I said that all before; that the significance of anything, is more than just a simple answer, and no answer's actually certain. Because Skrillex isn't really even more than just a person, and the Sonny Moore I'm sure I seen, is completely separate and I think that's probably the reason that I even cared, is I was asking someone scared and unprepared to even see me, even if he had, disastrously drunk and just as likely to be just as nervous anyway, I don't know what he was thinking, but I meant exactly what I asked and Honestly been worried, I asked if he was okay, but no one's okay if they're drinking.

Everyone drinks.

Everyone but me.

And yet, you sit here spinning.

Hey, I only took my chances just to try to get to Sonny.

Are you really that much worried about someone who has everything?

If Sonny had everything, then why'd he even need me?

Like you said, it could be several different reasons, maybe money; maybe someone paid him, like they paid your ex, just to confuse things.

As if suicidal tendencies preceding wouldn't end me?

Well, it hasn't ended yet, nor have you heard a thing from Sonny.

No, not heard--but seen a lot of things that seem to call me; like the peace sign on his chest, made from the portrait by ms coughsy.

Everytime that someone coughs, I just get ansty, filled with envy. And the coughing all goes back, before I met the man that made me.

Maybe she was helping him with all the things you need to see things.

See things like? She just might also be in love with Sonny.

Or she's not, but time as being friends, and all the friends he keeps, and all the people in the industry are pretty, look at ellie.

And he seemed to turn away, when his hands rubbed against your belly.

Which suggests the other theory, that he paid to maybe--nothing.

So you'd never even think to point the finger if he did that?

On the second round, he didn't come in without my consent: and I consented, I just used my hand to signal in sign language. And he didn't enter, probably thinking “what the fuck was that shit?”

That's the same thing I was thinking, but is finally making sense--the “I can't breathe” and “black lives matter” he was making signs for “love wins” and “equality” of which there isn't in this fucking country.

So the banner as the visuals and blue haired kid on stage?

I guess a separate dimension, or perhaps it all was staged.

Between Live Nation, and Insomniac, although they're all the same….

Which is exactly why Excision seems so evil and so strange.

They all seem evil now, in honesty--the poptarts, all the games?

And then ther's fucking Dillon Francis, kicking ass and taking names.

But then you haven't paid attention much to anyone these days.

Except for Dillon Francis and Sonny or what the fuck's his stage name even?

That's obsession, I think.

No, that's actually the magic.

How?

Remember, that coincidences don't even exist?

And all the random happenstances, like the shit you might have missed, as in: The album Occult Classic, which came out on OWSLA is, a song you love and danced all summer, and you went through all that shit because you fell in love with what the fuck, was Jon really in?

Another thing to make you question which reality you're in: He might have been just “Jon”, a secret agent, or now that you're over it, some kind of fucking bampharmph who wants you as his president.

That's never happening.

Oh, if you live, believe it is.

Because honey, look at Sonny: Money wants what money gets, and money gets whatever money wants--whatever that thing is and Occult Classic seems to be the real that all the magic is.

Imagine if those doctors that fucked up your life had best interests, rather than investments in the pockets of the rich.

And if you haven't noticed by now, this is bigger than it gets: there really are too many sides, and you're the central target.

All this is, is that you either fucking live or fucking die--

And if you have to fucking write, then fine, just write it right this time.

See there's a side that has investments in the interest that you die;

And the otherside, which hopes you make the things that you've been writing.

Don't forget the many people listening and watching right, at any time, where any webcam, or a subtle other eye, might pick up any of your actions, or the words you mutter, with the many mics and many minds--but never one alike the writer writing all these sides, just trying just to find the light.

And what defines the difference between fan and future wife?

Well, I would have to be his friend before admitting I were either; see, your wife should be your biggest fan, but ‘fan' isn't my title, when if anything, i'm after all this shit, a fucking vital in whatever makes this shit at all exist, and though he's just an idol I could never stand to idolize another human adult, nor do I blame him for making me so fucking suicidal; anot I take all the responsibility for where my mind goes, while he might have not been cogniscent enough to answer back at all--I always thought it looked like he was pushed into my tent, or like perhaps he might have fallen, and I just don't get at all, why after everything i've been through, it still matters at all.

Because whatever happened in the tent still is, just as it is with Getter's set, if you remember was another entrance into the dimension which you vision in this body, but could enter , when you went and left your body, back at Audiotistic; and had your spirit really is some kind of speciality, which lets the living and the dead to do some crazy shit.

So someone knows that you're a psychic,with a light inside projected in the eyes of those come seeking light, and live with good intentions.

And your heart of hearts reacts to certain frequencies in music, though the language you remember as the origins of your origins.

Origins which, as Chak Chel teaches may predate this planet.

But Chak Chel was just a song you liked, on--Listen to that album.

Now?

Yes, go listen to The Origins, Bass Music is Power.

Now isn't that much better than repeating Midnight Hour?

But the everything of everything suggests it comes around, with time and patience, maybe everything works itself out.

But what about Chak Chel-- A strange collision, this one?

Yes, I didn't know her spirit was so motherfucking ancient, it just kind of unraveled as it merged with me, which honestly is creepy--but I dig it.

But she doesn't really say much if my body is mistreated. All the processed food and poisons fuck her up…

Which is why you ditch this country and you flee to somewhere decent, where you write the rest of this and just eat mangoes by the beach; kid.

Kid, wait, who is this addressing ‘me' as fucking “kid”

This is the tired, broken spirit, being poisoned in this shit. I hate this whole entire life of yourse, now mine, until you fucking die; go back to somewhere you can sit and meditate; go contemplate the ancient art of human sacrifice.

That might be nice, trust me, I've been trying.

You've been sitting and complaining about everything, never trying. Have you even thought that maybe, if you try, you'll find your guy?

He is not my guy.

No, he's your whatever you like; the love you keep inside your heart, your soul, your spirit all combined are something which resulted in a saga that you're writing; that you've already completed, even, if you can imagine it--even if it's meant as ‘infinite”, the plot itself is final.

Final maybe, buti'm starting to project what it might look like if I send it off, and never get it read--or even on the shorter term of things, I just can't organize it all, in order to present it.

Though you might resent it, if your guy is not your guy, well--try the other guy.

But no one is my guy, I'm just alone and want to die.

Then how does that explain the wild party Gerald had at Dillons? Had you noticed the banana, or the other hints when watching it the first time?

No, I hadn't even noticed.

Someone's sending you a message, it's impressive and you know it.

I'll admit, it is impressive--and it's strange, that Dillon Francis has this magic and a range of characters and happenstances that all help to set the stage; it kind of gives me hope or something. But, what is that?

Turn the page.

I have been turning pages, turning over rocks, which makes me think: I'm living under one, with this whole entire thing-- I mean-- I gave up all my music, fasted, never counted days, and ended up climbing up a mountain, where the nature came to me: and I tried to run from everything, but Sonny followed me; between his mother, then Avicii it was like the spirits pleading, but I couldn't even think with all the callings calling me; the butterflies— and then advice from Gods I worshipped on my knees and cried, The final Prophecy revealed a terrifying secret, and the staff I carried with me as a walking stick just planted, pounding out upon the giant rock, an Omen on it's own, as I was told to go unfold the whole of what was shown, to fucking DJ Dillon Francis, a man I don't even know.

But Dillon Francis makes you laugh.

He's funny, yeah, I know. But I was fasting, praying, meditating deeply for sometime, I didn't count, but weeks, and maybe even reaching past a month or so--who knows? It didn't matter, I had stopped paying attention to my phone. I ran up on the mountain to be left alone, for days no matter where I'd go, i'd just be followed. Sitting on the mountain peak, I sighed a sigh of great relief, ask asked for peace, and praying, pleading just to die--or nap at least; The answer, which, with instant and in anger from a voice I only know as “God”, who of course is no stranger, but not normally so quick to respond, or speak at all--if ever. Prayers are typically answered over some time, it could be years before God hears them; but (s)/he keeps a watchful eye.

This going up the mountain sounds like something you would write.

Aha, that's right, but I was not--just talking the whole time; and all the while I realized someone else alive was actually hearing me, the whole entire time.

Someone else, like who?

I guess that's just as likely anybody with the right technology, your answer's as good as mine.

Well, I don't have an answer, something's just not right.

Something isn't right, it's Sonny--I just realy don't know why.

What could be the something? Maybe, really, you're the why?

The why I fasted for so long was so I just could try to let it go, and get away from it, I tried and tried and tried; I said I wouldn't end the fast, until I really could forget.

So, then, what happened? You couldn't forget--

No instead, I just remembered burning as a witch; what it was like to be on fire, burning skin and all of it, as I looked at the mountain side, wondering who lit it and remembering the Gods who made the fire, and then gifted it, and everything the Gods inspired, human's thought was magic, and for sometime, even had the gifts, until they couldn't manage, and they acted in their savage primitive limited and rather Godless, doing for the Gods, some awful things, that made them leave them stranded on this planet; taking back the wisdom, and the gift of magic.

But what about the magic that exists, that you believe in.

It was only given back, sparingly in secret--I was told the story of a boy who needed it, in ancient times, just to survive as he was shunned by his village, who did violent things just threatened by the difference in his skin.

Magic appeared because of racists?

Because nobody could love him, they just couldn't understand the science in the evolution; But a God who loved humanity, gave magic as solution--which, as a reaction as the magic did consume him, ended in a definite conclusion, as he ran away and took away another which did suit him.

Really? How did all this happen? Who told you and when?

I don't have any control when it happens, The Gods speak and I listen. Or, I look--I just do what they say, or don't-say, they don't speak this any language; just existing in a form of consciousness, with lessons that I'm made to learn, reflect with introspection.

So what happens in these ‘lessons'?

Typically, it varies. Lessons could be something simple, to something that's really scary.

What's something really scary?

Most those visions, I keep private; thinking somehow they might be prevented, if I just ignore it.

What do you mean by “visions”, seeing with your eyes?

More like, glimpses into timelines I exist in through my life; eventually happening at some point I experience in life.

So kind of like, a dream?

More vivid than a dream--it's like, some people get Deja Vu-- I get that all the time. But these visions, are so vivid, rather Lucid, like an Astral Projection being played a hundred times, at once just so I can't forget; It stays fresh in my mind.

This happens, when you're dreaming?

When I was dreaming, mostly, early, as A child...but as I grew, they'd happen any time, it didn't matter, visions don't happen in my eyes--but more like, in the minds eye, maybe the third eye, with a light.

So these “visions”, do they always happen in due time?

That's exactly why they're visions, they are always right about whatever it is in them, sometimes even as reminders that whatever circumstance has happened several times, suggesting I have lived inside this lifeline, and this timeline different times--with lessons, messages, reminders--different actions, reactions, and choices which define and differentiate the visions from the time--which hopefully align with positive results...If I am lucky.

What helps you differentiate between timelines?

I don't. I just remember having already been in the situation, remembering precisely my choice from a separate time.

So, these are memories?

I guess, if memories mean I remember things that are currently happening, sometimes.

Sometimes.

It's the sometimes that seems to keep me out of another suicide, or attemp, which I honestly can comprehend, isn't something I actually lived through. Death, the master of illusion as he...is, or me, as I suppose was given as a title I lived in, after coming down the mountain. But then, once I went up the mountain, I never really came down--did I?

Of course you did. You're here to tell it.

Or tell no one, really, no one being, Dillon Francis.

What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything?

My sentiments.. I practically exploded being given specific directions to somehow, go “find him.”

Your sentiments, but not sentiments exactly?

Perhaps, exactly, moreso and overwhelmingly and exhausted, having been considerably terrified after the many, many, almost too many revelations passed to me that day, which quickly turned to night, which I may have noticed was strikingly offset, by the time I managed to find my way down; that something had changed, making me lose my way.

What changed?

The sun had set, not west, which I was facing, but into the north instead.

A Northern Sunset?!

Nothing but subtle in the comparison of all that I had seen, the things that had been said and sent, I had been, yet again, not just an antenna but been asked, by some, and demanded by others, a series of tasks, to take back. Reconstruct man's commandments into commandments of the land, the protection of this planet as a sacred being; and being burdened to bear the curse, and keep the secret, seeking only one to which I might relay it.

The One, being?

If you haven't managed which is The One, I can't come to repeat it.

You say, a curse, kept with a secret--that was what sent you down the mountain?

No, that wasn't quite it....it was something so unsettling, as the universe as the outside world, so powerfully reflected in an instant manifestation, a response to a conclusion, which had barely formed as ‘thought', before being answered.

I leapt into a panic, flying down the mountain, i'll admit, with newly-granted magic, which helped me down quite quickly.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

A perfect world

To find perfection in love;

And to find love in everything...

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Ted, Ted, and Ted's accidental initiation into The Psychonauts began as a result of the friends, originally three Fraternity Brothers and Recent Graduates of UCLA attending festivals consistently together, each using various Mind-Altering substances to attract (“preferably female”) partygoers.

Over the course of the series in short (often light and comedic) scenes, where the trio often stumble into reality-shattering situations by sheer coincidence or seemingly random occurrences. But as we later learn about the multilayered world of interdimensional existence, Everything happens for a reason; Nothing is Impossible, Never Say Never, Be Careful what You Wish For-- and, of course-- there are no coincidences.

These three seemingly simple-minded creatures begin as “wooks”, Shirtless Party Boys eager to rave. Often [irresponsibly] experimenting with copious amounts of psychedelics, the boys often find themselves unknowingly transported through various wormholes, teleportals, time warps, and Voids created through the music at each festival they attend, sometimes confusedly landing them in alternate parallels and altered dimensions of reality, sometimes even spiraling into three separate dimensions at once, thus creating new points along The Grid, from which the parallels and dimensions are woven together and interconnected through, time, space, circumstance, and choice in any conscious--ultimately (though, most often by dumb luck or happy accidents) expanding the universe, prompting the Ascended Masters to scout Ted, Ted, and Ted as a unified team to be inducted into The Psyconauts, eventually becoming an integral and important

Dillon (Theodore) Francis, while working towards an Alliance between the Bampheramphs and Psychonauts uses his bewittingly bestowed middle name to act as an Alternate ‘Ted', or sometimes work jointly as The QuadraSquad, a “pop-up” rave squad which acts as a recruitment team, and on emergency search-and-rescue missions, collecting key components along the collapse and collision of worlds and within the fabric of space, time, and reality.

Chak Chel and Dillon Francis put the Teds through a rigorous (and extremely senseless) crash-course in DJing, forming a popular Trio, whose name varies depending on the dimensions in which they will preform, secretly setting tactical bassdrops, emitting coded frequencies to communicate covertly with other entities, opening intentional time warps, portals, and wormholes through their DJ sets.

Time holes where the Trio are in two (or sometimes, more, and alternately infinite) places at once are placed as easter eggs throughout the series; In some cases, The Three Teds are even festival attendees at the festivals which in a neighboring reality they are also headlining, even at points transporting their own selves through timespace--whether intentionally, or coincidentally.

As the Teds reach the high ranks of The Psychonauts, even eventually (and unwillingly) becoming separated by the obligation of duty, being assigned to separate sanctions of Leadership by skillset as a “draft” is enacted to strengthen their forces, as they prepare for The FInal Battle (actually multiple (infinite) battles occurring concurrently throughout the expanse of reality, even stretching into the outer realms of ‘inexistence' as the collective consciousness grows, reaching Ascension, and allowing certain realities to reach the New Paradigm.

Though evolved over time as the series progresses, The Teds maintain their quirky wookness, questionable (sometimes inappropriate) sense of fashion, and hilariously signature fratboy attitudes and antics, reunifying as a powerful Trio once more towards the conclusion of the series, appearing elementally in various ways at most crucial plot points, revealing the creation through all of their endeavors and shenanigans, a brand new universe within The Infinite Multivetrse.

(“TED”, where everything/everyone is “Ted”, This universe collides with “Everyone's A DJ”, and, as an infinitely expanding and integral part of the universe, appears optically as “TBD” (To Be Determined, Where Cliffhangers, Plot Holes, Continuity Errors and other traditional elements of Theatrical Film are represented throughout the SUPA Saga and overall festival project.)

During the Wookness:

Ted: Yo, how much for this? (Points To Kandi Cuff)

...How much-what?

Ted: How much is it? Like what, $50 bucks?

50 bucks?!

Ted: Oh shit, my bad--festival prices, huh? Sorry yo, I got a $50, the rest is big bills. Doyou have an online shop?

Are you trying to buy my kandi? You can't *buy* kandi!

Ted: Pssshhh!

Ted: All I buy is Kandi!

YOu can't sell kandi, youre supposed to trade it.. That's why you make it.

Ted: Yeah bro, I've done trades.

(Flashback)

Raver Girl: Wanna Trade Kandi?

Ted: Show Us your Titties!

The girl looks to her friend, as if to say “should I?” her friend, wearing dark Ray Bans, and sternly nods her head in approval, her friend shrugs drunkenly as if to say“fuck it, why not?”

While the friend swiftly pulls out her iPhone, the other lifts her shirt, flashing the happy Teds, dancing in Fratboy Delight; Ted, standing adjacent to the straight-faced girl in Sunglasses, sneakily scrunches down to get a good picture; their [Tri-Lens] iPhone cameras now directly aligned. face to face, (or rather, eye-to-eye) ((Or, eye-to-eye, rather,)) (((Rather, eye-to-eye,))). snapping his picture, as the flash from her camera blinds him

Ted:UH, Yeah you can..They sell it online.

Online? Whats--what? SELL?

Ted: Fuck yeah dude.

Ted: YEEE, KANDI KID 4 LIFE

YOU ARE NOT A KANDI--Ki--YOU CAn'T SELL KANDI.

Woah, chill.

No “chill” no selling Kandi! NO! NO!

What

Chak Chel's Bedtime Stories

Chak Chel, the GOOGLE kids' favorite babysitter, tells stories of infinitely expanding adventures of the multidimensions of timespace

-Honey, I Killed Myself.

-Honey, I Shrunk The Skrillex

-Who Killed Sunni Blu?

-Who Killed SupaCree?

-The Curious Case of SupaCree

-DILLONCEPTION

Trapped in an intensely infinite and ever-expanding and/or consistently densening Vividly Lucid Multidimensionally (And Musically) Interconnected Omni-Galactic Eternal Space-Time “Loop”, [DJ] Dillon Francis must frustratingly attempt to multitask through an “apparently unlimited”[ (I TOLD YOU, IN-FIN-ITE. INFINITY.)] battle his Masked nemesis,

Key: Brackets [] Director's Notes, Production Details, typically indicating a tie-in with other entries, or crossovers from other consecutively (or, sometimes, alternately) running series in the saga, more frequently as the “Multiverse” expands, or as the (Technical Omniverse, Eventually) in which the series' specific “(U)niverse” ‘collapsing', being progressively stated repeatedly throughout the series to be both compressing, and expanding respectively; However, as the

Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure...

Dill and Ted's Excellent Adventure (They cross paths with Bill and Ted, in their search for Two of the missing Teds; Alternately Ted and Ted discover how ‘Three's a Crowd” makes sense, as they happily gallavant frat-tastically through the galaxy, in search of a Sexy Space-Alien Rave Bae (The Amazonian Women from futurama, live action, Saved by the Heroes from futurama)

(on) Having ascended into the dimension after her most recent death, SupaCree (not yet known as SupaCree), lands “God”, an Ascended Dimension where she can actually communicate clearly with the Ascended Masters, being closer to ‘God' (her)self, but not directly being able to interact with her; conversely, she can scan the plains of reality from “above”, though later we learn there is no “up” or “down” in “Total Omnipotence”, the post-conscience Infinite Existence Experienced in the Limitless (INFINITE) Energy of Being Everything, Everyone, and Everywhere at once; Simultaneously Nonexistant, Being “Nothing”, “Nobody” and “Nowhere” at once, all represented variously through the concept of infinite multidimentionality, in our “3” dimensional “Uni-Multi-Omni-Versal” (apparently, I've just been told) SupaCree exists in a Tri-Verse, unbeknownst to even God (her)self to its true Origins, the “final(e)” (but not, ever)

(e) In a random and nearly collapsed alternate fabric of timespace, where the spelling of the name “Cree” is pronounced the same, but spelled simply “Cre”, (though, specifically equally--”by the exact number of times, actually”--mispronounced”, One of the only similarities between the two, sharing the same planetary alignments and cosmic significance and the same parents--however having been conceived with completely different genetic markers: As a result, this alternate version of herself is physically not “opposite”, but differs in physical appearance drastically--at least, for the most part--as more ideally attractive which to The Original's mind-blowing dissatisfaction, (and, also stagnantly egotistical “Very Satisfied” Satisfaction),

But the feeling soon fades when she learns that this reality is on the verge of imminent collapse after the discovery that one subtle, singular synchronicity shared in her actual reality(s)(realities) (which one?) ((Multiple “actual-realities, actually”)) (((Multiple Synchronized Individual Existence Theory, one of the multiple Theories (I) Use to Conceive the (Law) of Evolutionary Infinite Omnipotence, (Everything is Everything/Nothing is Nothing/ God is, as I am/ I am U/All Are One) the aforementioned suggesting the absolute possibility of any circumstance which allows a singular subject with (apparently) “limited” existence, total and complete synchronization at “exact” moment of “Creation”, or “Origin”, and any circumstantially coinciding consecutive synchronizations beyond the limitations eo each respective individual's actual existence or reality.)(Satisfaction, Benny Benassi) (And Apparently, The Biz--because, literally, writing in real-time (What is time) with google. (What's The Biz???) Travelling to 2003, where the event which ties this frail and “practically non-existent” fabric of reality to her own, she eagerly races against the clock (in real time?) ((maybe, unreal time)) (((I am time.))) “I don't believe in time”, later corrected, after being stuck in a Godless world to “The human concept of “time”,/God's not real, or opting to state the phrase more subjectively, “I don't [really}/I kinda don't believe in time,” though as she evolves more rapidly through her progressive Ascension and Elemental Mastery, quickly Surpassing Ascended Mastery as a skilled sorcerer,Visionary Seer, helping her rapidly strengthen the art of Cosmic Alchemy, mastery of (eventually, instant, and respectively infinite manifestation, and matter/antimatter movement and/or manipulation;i.e. The art of Creation.

I.E., Do you even know what “i.e' stands for?

I'll look it up later, I know what its used for.

Look it up.

[Googles i.e, clicks on top most commonly searched]

I.e. and e.g. are both Latin abbreviations. E.g. stands for exempli gratia and means “for example.” I.e. is the abbreviation for id est and means “in other words.” Remember that E is for example (e.g.) and that I and E are the first letters of in essence, an alternative English translation of i.e.

The Original Cree sits perched behind a red

(Ugh, red…)

...A red laptop computer; the love light lost from her dark eyes, through the clear lenses of her cheap, brandless

(Medicaid.)

...brandless black glasses, narrow framed and unbecoming over the shape of her face, the Album ‘Who Killed Matt Maeson” softly plays a somber song, to which she'd normally--at least, if left alone or rarely, in “comfortable company”

(That's, someone you don't necessarily “like”, but still feel comfortable enough to sing around.)

The Scientist, in a higher realm, peaking down through her microscope, watches contently, curiously, and concisely, dialing its lens by a couple turns, as she ponders aloud,

Hm. Wonder what makes that happen, exactly? That's...huh...Hm.

[Her project, a mystery hidden from the audience. She pushes herself back from the desk, reaching for her notebook and jotting quickly her findings, stopping only turn on some [] Music, which blends seamlessly as we fade back into the scene of the drab and unflattering, somewhat “sickeningly” lit, reminiscent of the stagnancy most often observed in a petri dish.]

As the song ‘Cringe' begins to play in the background, the clear picture of the laptop screen fades into a blurred obscurity, as her focus shifts sharply to the warm glowing array of colors of her speaker light her otherwise nearly lifeless eyes, as she is Slightly and softly hypnotized into a series of several simultaneous vivid memories; separate and specifically assorted scenes form, as she remembers “everything” quite at once, A vision weaved into her conscious memories, just as seamlessly; A Web Wrapped with the Fragile Fabric of “Time”, the invisible energy of musical frequencies awaken ones senses and sensibilities--invisible, for some...at least. The light on the speaker, a golden tone, as we cascade into the eye mind;

A flash to a blurry memory, 2017; A slender and handsome longhaired surfer, resurfaces from submersion under the waves, flipping his long hair back with the graceful and slowmotionly seductive snap of the neck, as the sunlight gleaming a golden glow, in the eye of his admirer.

A Flash Of: The Golden Light of the Shining Sun over Santa Monica

A Flash, As she Gently Weeps, as the tears leaving her eyes leave (in a flash of scenes) drops onto her jeans, the sidewalk--all the while, A tiny ant carries a giant leaf, as the spider weaves beneath the tree whose leaves leak streams of pretty streaking and speckled, and leaves glassy droplets stuck in the strings of the spider, still weaving; the rain floods the streams into rivers, which bleed, eventually in the ocean, fanning out into the Seven Seas.

(pacifically, eventually)

Are we reading this, or is this stage direction--production notes? What is this?

Who is “we”?

WE

AVE

A whole flashback unfolds: A steamy shower, thick with the smell sweet candles, leaving steam-less spots of mirror in the flickering heat; A seamless and synchronized transition, as the More Cheery and Upbeat Strings, Beat and melody in the previously playing version, fades seemingly into the steam, as ‘Cringe, Stripped” leads us into the memory, where she sings with the heartbreakingly haunting and soulful sadness, the harmony, her voice blending perfectly over the recording as if it were meant to be; The Duality of Grief. Not quite flashing back, but seen as a translucent overlay, another flash; The Seats of a theatre, the scene in black and white, as the stage lights washout, the flickering dremlike scene, the steam so thick we barely see the details of the singing, with the passion that seems to bleed out the ache of her broken, barely beating heart.

The song rings out, evolving into what just may be, the beginnings of a remix, as more quick flashes slam back-to-back

A flash of: The Scene In The Mercedes

A flash of an ambulance, sirens blaring!

A flash as the scene of A spider sleeping peacefully beneath a leaf, shielded from the rain, which leaves droplets on the strings, on the opposite side of the same tree; Blissfully unaware of the bird, perched just above lurking or something to eat. Neither the spider, nor the other, or the bird or ant are aware of any one-another, or any other world other besides the tree, the flash of a longshot which we see, is unassumingly and unimpressively, “just a tree” a grey and stormy day; A plane takes off up into the heavy rain, droplets changing shape through the window, looking out as the plane lifts off the ground.

The next layer of memories unfold as voiceovers from various quotes, accompanying the song still playing, now beginning to blend with first the stripped version, then the album/studio version, which for a moment, is singularly heard, as the flash of a scene from a more recent memory flashes:

The Digital Clock in the Car Reads, 88.1 in red, The volume is low, almost so low that it can't be heard: she stares out the window on a grey and overcast day, eyes lost and pondering--though they light when her finely tuned ears catch the pitch of the song ‘Cringe', as she excitedly turns the volume up eagerly, listening for a moment--a range of joyful surprise in her expressions, happily pushing up the Translucent Pink Frames, sighing with a smile, as she exclaims,

“WHAT? THIS SONG IS ON THE RADIO NOW?!”

The driver, taken aback but having caught her contagious beam of “happy”

I almost forgot about this song. That was a long time ago...

“Oh...do you know this song?”

I haven't heard it in forever...I forgot it existed. [pause] I can't believe it took that long…

“yeah , it's pretty popular. It's like always on.”

...I can't believe this song...daaaaamn...her excitement settles, as she looks back out of the window, at the grey and rainy day.

So, that's how long it takes…

The blending and fading of the song creates an array of rapidly changing scenes faded, flashing, cut and becoming somehow closer, yet further away at the same time. Colors and shapes, as the sounds that the songs all being played which remain the same, but change, as they create new sound waves; The Three Songs are arranged and rearranged, as are the scenes, pictures, videos, of entertainment stages through the ages, The Festival Culture highlighted in the Inception since The Dawn of Rave, to present day. [Each quote, a voiceover played by an ensemble cast, each made to read any/every line specifically, if unaccompanied by a name.]

The Clips and Sound Combine with Colorful Psychedelic and neon in some scenes even in 3D, (ideally, actually, up to 9D) as music, theatre, television, and flashes of memories and scenes of everything, as the shifting screen changes slightly and steadily with the music, now something of an electronic-meets-acoustic symphony (:UNPLUGGED), still cleanly and seamless in the colorful chaos that is everything, though visually intensely overwhelming, a sensory-stimulating synthesis of “Sound That You Can See”[ *go back for quote from song] The Sountrack now taking us on a Journey through sound, (ideally surround sound, even having speakers and subs somehow mounted from the ceiling, pointing down, pointing up from the ground. With Live Theatre Production Experiences combine more elements representative of the 9 Dimensions, by arranging speakers set outside of the theatre itself--perhaps, if in a Live Theatre setting, where the movie is projected onto a screen or skrim on stage, additional screens canbe projected onto the walls of the theatre, creating potential to use the audience interactively, perhaps arranging for actors seated amongst the audience members, interjecting at the intersections of crossing dimensions with both improvised and rehearsed actions, and or carrying out specific tasks as it related to the plot, the audience, even becoming the stage, as the stage is re-arranged; even becoming a mirror image of the theatre, filling with patrons and gazing into the audience, where cast members reflect a multidimensional portrayal, an interpretive alternate reality of what is happening on stage, unseen off stage, while the film still plays somewhere (or even sometimes, nowhere) as light and sound design give the viewer an experience of senselessness and sensory stimulus, Explaining through experience, representations of conditions; Much like a masterful DJ mixes musical elements in a live setting by reading the crowd, The Ideal Live Production of this Film has the ability to Unify the audience through various interactive activities; an energy-based planned, or even sporadic--based on the audience itself, monitored by The Ringmaster, an unseen (cast) Omnipitence, or ‘The Universe” itself, , as we apply the Values of Peace, Love, Unity, and Respect as the Ultra-Fine Line between “Everything” and “Nothing”, in simpler terms: Light and Dark, and finding the balance which allows us, in the “present” to explore and experience The Voids, shattering reality as the Linear plot unravels into a non-linar Uncontrolled Experiement, Allowing for Manuverability within the variables and simulating a Synesthesia-Inspired Simulation of Multidimensional Time and Space Travel, using music as the constant connection; as the finale transforms the theater in entirety into both a theatrical interpretation of a full-scale music festival--and a real-life miniature dance scene, inviting real-life ravers to fill the space to capacity, as the final scenes of the film unfold as the our present reality Expanding, Ascending, Compressing, and Collapsing All at Once, Explosions and Implosions as Conscious and Unconscious Collide in the Cosmos; Darkness having never known Light, and Life is the balance we find as they collide, tied in tightly by Time through the rhymes and iambic pentameters, patterns, passion, perception; we find the Power of the Divine is the awareness of one's existence as Everything and/or Nothing at once, As the Reflection of both the inward and outward selves must balance, and harmonize in time, to realize The Difference between Paradise and The Prison of Purgatory, is the illusion of Division between the two Divine Eyes; The strength behind them lights the …

Ted, Ted, and Ted's accidental initiation into The Psychonauts began as a result of the friends, originally three Fraternity Brothers and Recent Graduates of UCLA attending festivals consistently together, each using various Mind-Altering substances to attract (“preferably female”) partygoers.

Over the course of the series in short (often light and comedic) scenes, where the trio often stumble into reality-shattering situations by sheer coincidence or seemingly random occurrences. But as we later learn about the multilayered world of interdimensional existence, Everything happens for a reason; Nothing is Impossible, Never Say Never, Be Careful what You Wish For-- and, of course-- there are no coincidences.

These three seemingly simple-minded creatures begin as “wooks”, Shirtless Party Boys eager to rave. Often [irresponsibly] experimenting with copious amounts of psychedelics, the boys often find themselves unknowingly transported through various wormholes, teleportals, time warps, and Voids created through the music at each festival they attend, sometimes confusedly landing them in alternate parallels and altered dimensions of reality, sometimes even spiraling into three separate dimensions at once, thus creating new points along The Grid, from which the parallels and dimensions are woven together and interconnected through, time, space, circumstance, and choice in any conscious--ultimately (though, most often by dumb luck or happy accidents) expanding the universe, prompting the Ascended Masters to scout Ted, Ted, and Ted as a unified team to be inducted into The Psyconauts, eventually becoming an integral and important

Dillon (Theodore) Francis, while working towards an Alliance between the Bampheramphs and Psychonauts uses his bewittingly bestowed middle name to act as an Alternate ‘Ted', or sometimes work jointly as The QuadraSquad, a “pop-up” rave squad which acts as a recruitment team, and on emergency search-and-rescue missions, collecting key components along the collapse and collision of worlds and within the fabric of space, time, and reality.

Chak Chel and Dillon Francis put the Teds through a rigorous (and extremely senseless) crash-course in DJing, forming a popular Trio, whose name varies depending on the dimensions in which they will preform, secretly setting tactical bassdrops, emitting coded frequencies to communicate covertly with other entities, opening intentional time warps, portals, and wormholes through their DJ sets.

Time holes where the Trio are in two (or sometimes, more, and alternately infinite) places at once are placed as easter eggs throughout the series; In some cases, The Three Teds are even festival attendees at the festivals which in a neighboring reality they are also headlining, even at points transporting their own selves through timespace--whether intentionally, or coincidentally.

As the Teds reach the high ranks of The Psychonauts, even eventually (and unwillingly) becoming separated by the obligation of duty, being assigned to separate sanctions of Leadership by skillset as a “draft” is enacted to strengthen their forces, as they prepare for The FInal Battle (actually multiple (infinite) battles occurring concurrently throughout the expanse of reality, even stretching into the outer realms of ‘inexistence' as the collective consciousness grows, reaching Ascension, and allowing certain realities to reach the New Paradigm.

Though evolved over time as the series progresses, The Teds maintain their quirky wookness, questionable (sometimes inappropriate) sense of fashion, and hilariously signature fratboy attitudes and antics, reunifying as a powerful Trio once more towards the conclusion of the series, appearing elementally in various ways at most crucial plot points, revealing the creation through all of their endeavors and shenanigans, a brand new universe within The Infinite Multiverse.

(“TED”, where everything/everyone is “Ted”, This universe collides with “Everyone's A DJ”, and, as an infinitely expanding and integral part of the universe, appears optically as “TBD” (To Be Determined, Where Cliffhangers, Plot Holes, Continuity Errors and other traditional elements of Theatrical Film are represented throughout the SUPA Saga and overall festival project.)

During the Wookness:

Ted: Yo, how much for this? (Points To Kandi Cuff)

...How much-what?

Ted: How much is it? Like what, $50 bucks?

50 bucks?!

Ted: Oh shit, my bad--festival prices, huh? Sorry yo, I got a $50, the rest is big bills. Doyou have an online shop?

Are you trying to buy my kandi? You can't *buy* kandi!

Ted: Pssshhh!

Ted: All I buy is Kandi!

You can't sell kandi, you're supposed to trade it.. That's why you make it.

Ted: Yeah bro, I've done trades.

(Flashback)

Raver Girl: Wanna Trade Kandi?

Ted: Show Us your Titties!

The girl looks to her friend, as if to say “should I?” her friend, wearing dark Ray Bans, and sternly nods her head in approval, her friend shrugs drunkenly as if to say“fuck it, why not?”

While the friend swiftly pulls out her iPhone, the other lifts her shirt, flashing the happy Teds, dancing in Fratboy Delight; Ted, standing adjacent to the straight-faced girl in Sunglasses, sneakily scrunches down to get a good picture; their [Tri-Lens] iPhone cameras now directly aligned. face to face, (or rather, eye-to-eye) ((Or, eye-to-eye, rather,)) (((Rather, eye-to-eye,))). snapping his picture, as the flash from her camera blinds him

Ted:UH, Yeah you can..They sell it online.

Online? Whats--what? SELL?

Ted: Fuck yeah dude.

Ted: YEEE, KANDI KID 4 LIFE

YOU ARE NOT A KANDI--Ki--YOU CAn'T SELL KANDI.

Woah, chill.

No “chill” no selling Kandi! NO! NO!

What

Chak Chel's Bedtime Stories

Chak Chel, the GOOGLE kids' favorite babysitter, tells stories of infinitely expanding adventures of the multidimensions of timespace

-Honey, I Killed Myself.

-Honey, I Shrunk The Skrillex

-Who Killed Sunni Blu?

-Who Killed SupaCree?

-The Curious Case of SupaCree

-DILLONCEPTION

Trapped in an intensely infinite and ever-expanding and/or consistently densening Vividly Lucid Multidimensionally (And Musically) Interconnected Omni-Galactic Eternal Space-Time “Loop”, [DJ] Dillon Francis must frustratingly attempt to multitask through an “apparently unlimited”[ (I TOLD YOU, IN-FIN-ITE. INFINITY.)] battle his Masked nemesis,

Key: Brackets [] Director's Notes, Production Details, typically indicating a tie-in with other entries, or crossovers from other consecutively (or, sometimes, alternately) running series in the saga, more frequently as the “Multiverse” expands, or as the (Technical Omniverse, Eventually) in which the series' specific “(U)niverse” ‘collapsing', being progressively stated repeatedly throughout the series to be both compressing, and expanding respectively; However, as the

Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure...

Dill and Ted's Excellent Adventure (They cross paths with Bill and Ted, in their search for Two of the missing Teds; Alternately Ted and Ted discover how ‘Three's a Crowd” makes sense, as they happily gallavant frat-tastically through the galaxy, in search of a Sexy Space-Alien Rave Bae (The Amazonian Women from futurama, live action, Saved by the Heroes from futurama)

(on) Having ascended into the dimension after her most recent death, SupaCree (not yet known as SupaCree), lands “God”, an Ascended Dimension where she can actually communicate clearly with the Ascended Masters, being closer to ‘God' (her)self, but not directly being able to interact with her; conversely, she can scan the plains of reality from “above”, though later we learn there is no “up” or “down” in “Total Omnipotence”, the post-conscience Infinite Existence Experienced in the Limitless (INFINITE) Energy of Being Everything, Everyone, and Everywhere at once; Simultaneously Nonexistant, Being “Nothing”, “Nobody” and “Nowhere” at once, all represented variously through the concept of infinite multidimentionality, in our “3” dimensional “Uni-Multi-Omni-Versal” (apparently, I've just been told) SupaCree exists in a Tri-Verse, unbeknownst to even God (her)self to its true Origins, the “final(e)” (but not, ever)

(e) In a random and nearly collapsed alternate fabric of timespace, where the spelling of the name “Cree” is pronounced the same, but spelled simply “Cre”, (though, specifically equally--”by the exact number of times, actually”--mispronounced”, One of the only similarities between the two, sharing the same planetary alignments and cosmic significance and the same parents--however having been conceived with completely different genetic markers: As a result, this alternate version of herself is physically not “opposite”, but differs in physical appearance drastically--at least, for the most part--as more ideally attractive which to The Original's mind-blowing dissatisfaction, (and, also stagnantly egotistical “Very Satisfied” Satisfaction),

But the feeling soon fades when she learns that this reality is on the verge of imminent collapse after the discovery that one subtle, singular synchronicity shared in her actual reality(s)(realities) (which one?) ((Multiple “actual-realities, actually”)) (((Multiple Synchronized Individual Existence Theory, one of the multiple Theories (I) Use to Conceive the (Law) of Evolutionary Infinite Omnipotence, (Everything is Everything/Nothing is Nothing/ God is, as I am/ I am U/All Are One) the aforementioned suggesting the absolute possibility of any circumstance which allows a singular subject with (apparently) “limited” existence, total and complete synchronization at “exact” moment of “Creation”, or “Origin”, and any circumstantially coinciding consecutive synchronizations beyond the limitations eo each respective individual's actual existence or reality.)(Satisfaction, Benny Benassi) (And Apparently, The Biz--because, literally, writing in real-time (What is time) with google. (What's The Biz???) Travelling to 2003, where the event which ties this frail and “practically non-existent” fabric of reality to her own, she eagerly races against the clock (in real time?) ((maybe, unreal time)) (((I am time.))) “I don't believe in time”, later corrected, after being stuck in a Godless world to “The human concept of “time”,/God's not real, or opting to state the phrase more subjectively, “I don't [really}/I kinda don't believe in time,” though as she evolves more rapidly through her progressive Ascension and Elemental Mastery, quickly Surpassing Ascended Mastery as a skilled sorcerer,Visionary Seer, helping her rapidly strengthen the art of Cosmic Alchemy, mastery of (eventually, instant, and respectively infinite manifestation, and matter/antimatter movement and/or manipulation;i.e. The art of Creation.

I.E., Do you even know what “i.e' stands for?

I'll look it up later, I know what its used for.

Look it up.

[Googles i.e, clicks on top most commonly searched]

I.e. and e.g. are both Latin abbreviations. E.g. stands for exempli gratia and means “for example.” I.e. is the abbreviation for id est and means “in other words.” Remember that E is for example (e.g.) and that I and E are the first letters of in essence, an alternative English translation of i.e.

The Original Cree sits perched behind a red

(Ugh, red…)

...A red laptop computer; the love light lost from her dark eyes, through the clear lenses of her cheap, brandless

(Medicaid.)

...brandless black glasses, narrow framed and unbecoming over the shape of her face, the Album ‘Who Killed Matt Maeson” softly plays a somber song, to which she'd normally--at least, if left alone or rarely, in “comfortable company”

(That's, someone you don't necessarily “like”, but still feel comfortable enough to sing around.)

The Scientist, in a higher realm, peaking down through her microscope, watches contently, curiously, and concisely, dialing its lens by a couple turns, as she ponders aloud,

Hm. Wonder what makes that happen, exactly? That's...huh...Hm.

[Her project, a mystery hidden from the audience. She pushes herself back from the desk, reaching for her notebook and jotting quickly her findings, stopping only turn on some [] Music, which blends seamlessly as we fade back into the scene of the drab and unflattering, somewhat “sickeningly” lit, reminiscent of the stagnancy most often observed in a petri dish.]

As the song ‘Cringe' begins to play in the background, the clear picture of the laptop screen fades into a blurred obscurity, as her focus shifts sharply to the warm glowing array of colors of her speaker light her otherwise nearly lifeless eyes, as she is Slightly and softly hypnotized into a series of several simultaneous vivid memories; separate and specifically assorted scenes form, as she remembers “everything” quite at once, A vision weaved into her conscious memories, just as seamlessly; A Web Wrapped with the Fragile Fabric of “Time”, the invisible energy of musical frequencies awaken ones senses and sensibilities--invisible, for some...at least. The light on the speaker, a golden tone, as we cascade into the eye mind;

A flash to a blurry memory, 2017; A slender and handsome longhaired surfer, resurfaces from submersion under the waves, flipping his long hair back with the graceful and slowmotionly seductive snap of the neck, as the sunlight gleaming a golden glow, in the eye of his admirer.

A Flash Of: The Golden Light of the Shining Sun over Santa Monica

A Flash, As she Gently Weeps, as the tears leaving her eyes leave (in a flash of scenes) drops onto her jeans, the sidewalk--all the while, A tiny ant carries a giant leaf, as the spider weaves beneath the tree whose leaves leak streams of pretty streaking and speckled, and leaves glassy droplets stuck in the strings of the spider, still weaving; the rain floods the streams into rivers, which bleed, eventually in the ocean, fanning out into the Seven Seas.

(pacifically, eventually)

Are we reading this, or is this stage direction--production notes? What is this?

Who is “we”?

WE

AVE

A whole flashback unfolds: A steamy shower, thick with the smell sweet candles, leaving steam-less spots of mirror in the flickering heat; A seamless and synchronized transition, as the More Cheery and Upbeat Strings, Beat and melody in the previously playing version, fades seemingly into the steam, as ‘Cringe, Stripped” leads us into the memory, where she sings with the heartbreakingly haunting and soulful sadness, the harmony, her voice blending perfectly over the recording as if it were meant to be; The Duality of Grief. Not quite flashing back, but seen as a translucent overlay, another flash; The Seats of a theatre, the scene in black and white, as the stage lights washout, the flickering dremlike scene, the steam so thick we barely see the details of the singing, with the passion that seems to bleed out the ache of her broken, barely beating heart.

The song rings out, evolving into what just may be, the beginnings of a remix, as more quick flashes slam back-to-back

A flash of: The Scene In The Mercedes

A flash of an ambulance, sirens blaring!

A flash as the scene of A spider sleeping peacefully beneath a leaf, shielded from the rain, which leaves droplets on the strings, on the opposite side of the same tree; Blissfully unaware of the bird, perched just above lurking or something to eat. Neither the spider, nor the other, or the bird or ant are aware of any one-another, or any other world other besides the tree, the flash of a longshot which we see, is unassumingly and unimpressively, “just a tree” a grey and stormy day; A plane takes off up into the heavy rain, droplets changing shape through the window, looking out as the plane lifts off the ground.

The next layer of memories unfold as voiceovers from various quotes, accompanying the song still playing, now beginning to blend with first the stripped version, then the album/studio version, which for a moment, is singularly heard, as the flash of a scene from a more recent memory flashes:

The Digital Clock in the Car Reads, 88.1 in red, The volume is low, almost so low that it can't be heard: she stares out the window on a grey and overcast day, eyes lost and pondering--though they light when her finely tuned ears catch the pitch of the song ‘Cringe', as she excitedly turns the volume up eagerly, listening for a moment--a range of joyful surprise in her expressions, happily pushing up the Translucent Pink Frames, sighing with a smile, as she exclaims,

“WHAT? THIS SONG IS ON THE RADIO NOW?!”

The driver, taken aback but having caught her contagious beam of “happy”

I almost forgot about this song. That was a long time ago...

“Oh...do you know this song?”

I haven't heard it in forever...I forgot it existed. [pause] I can't believe it took that long…

“yeah , it's pretty popular. It's like always on.”

...I can't believe this song...daaaaamn...her excitement settles, as she looks back out of the window, at the grey and rainy day.

So, that's how long it takes…

The blending and fading of the song creates an array of rapidly changing scenes faded, flashing, cut and becoming somehow closer, yet further away at the same time. Colors and shapes, as the sounds that the songs all being played which remain the same, but change, as they create new sound waves; The Three Songs are arranged and rearranged, as are the scenes, pictures, videos, of entertainment stages through the ages, The Festival Culture highlighted in the Inception since The Dawn of Rave, to present day. [Each quote, a voiceover played by an ensemble cast, each made to read any/every line specifically, if unaccompanied by a name.]

The Clips and Sound Combine with Colorful Psychedelic and neon in some scenes even in 3D, (ideally, actually, up to 9D) as music, theatre, television, and flashes of memories and scenes of everything, as the shifting screen changes slightly and steadily with the music, now something of an electronic-meets-acoustic symphony (:UNPLUGGED), still cleanly and seamless in the colorful chaos that is everything, though visually intensely overwhelming, a sensory-stimulating synthesis of “Sound That You Can See”[ *go back for quote from song] The Sountrack now taking us on a Journey through sound, (ideally surround sound, even having speakers and subs somehow mounted from the ceiling, pointing down, pointing up from the ground. With Live Theatre Production Experiences combine more elements representative of the 9 Dimensions, by arranging speakers set outside of the theatre itself--perhaps, if in a Live Theatre setting, where the movie is projected onto a screen or skrim on stage, additional screens canbe projected onto the walls of the theatre, creating potential to use the audience interactively, perhaps arranging for actors seated amongst the audience members, interjecting at the intersections of crossing dimensions with both improvised and rehearsed actions, and or carrying out specific tasks as it related to the plot, the audience, even becoming the stage, as the stage is re-arranged; even becoming a mirror image of the theatre, filling with patrons and gazing into the audience, where cast members reflect a multidimensional portrayal, an interpretive alternate reality of what is happening on stage, unseen off stage, while the film still plays somewhere (or even sometimes, nowhere) as light and sound design give the viewer an experience of senselessness and sensory stimulus, Explaining through experience, representations of conditions; Much like a masterful DJ mixes musical elements in a live setting by reading the crowd, The Ideal Live Production of this Film has the ability to Unify the audience through various interactive activities; an energy-based planned, or even sporadic--based on the audience itself, monitored by The Ringmaster, an unseen (cast) Omnipitence, or ‘The Universe” itself, , as we apply the Values of Peace, Love, Unity, and Respect as the Ultra-Fine Line between “Everything” and “Nothing”, in simpler terms: Light and Dark, and finding the balance which allows us, in the “present” to explore and experience The Voids, shattering reality as the Linear plot unravels into a non-linar Uncontrolled Experiement, Allowing for Manuverability within the variables and simulating a Synesthesia-Inspired Simulation of Multidimensional Time and Space Travel, using music as the constant connection; as the finale transforms the theatre in entirety into both a theatrical interpretation of a full-scale music festival--and a real-life miniature dance scene, inviting real-life ravers to fill the space to capacity, as the final scenes of the film unfold as the our present reality Expanding, Ascending, Compressing, and Collapsing All at Once, Explosions and Implosions as Concious and Unconcious Collide in the Cosmos; Darkness having never known Light, and Life is the balance we find as they collide, tied in tightly by Time through the rhymes and iambic pentameters, patterns, passion, perception; we find the Power of the Divine is the awareness of one's existence as Everything and/or Nothing at once, As the Reflection of both the inward and outward selves must balance, and harmonize in time, to realize The Difference between Paradice and The Prison of Purgatory, is the illusion of Division between the two Divine Eyes; The strength behind them lights the …

I'm tired.

Something about a third eye, right?

I don't know. I think they closed mine.

Who's “they”

I am.

“I prefer the gloominess to the sun. I don't know why.”

(From, The Beatles, Love: Sun, Sun, Sun…)

“‘I told the spider i'd write it!”

(A quick clip of spiderman)

‘'Ohh, she spida”

Okay, literally what the FUCK is my life.

Are you alive?

Not even.

This doesn't make sense.

How much sense is it supposed to make.

It is making sense. It's making 6th sense.

How did he DO that?

Just him?

THEY.

Oh, shit.

I know you're workin for it.

Nah, I don't even think that's right?

What's right?

Something Doesn't Feel Right,

I've had enough for one night.

Yo, how is this happening?

I don't know.

They said it was a 9-Dimensional Song.

WHAT even IS the 9th Dimension?

What are any of the DImensions?

I don't know.

Google it.

I did.

And?

And I have ADD. I dont know.

So, go!

GOH..

Aw, FUCK.

This is getting weird.

It's been weird.

How is it, I can quit Skrillex, but Skrillex can't quit me.

What?

It was just a coincidence.

There are no coincidences.

How is that song even on the radio.

Look what money can do!

Money can do anything!

I guess taht explains why you can't.

it DOES.

Do they want me to kill myself?

Do you want you to kill yourself?

Not really. I'd rather just die of natural causes, so I don'thave to be punished.

Are you being punished.

I commit suicide, and-- I already told this story. I'm not telling it again.

How many times have you really told it.

I've been telling it. I've been living it. I'm over it.

Youre not over it. You're panicking.

I'm writing.

Youre fasting.

I'm hungry.

Why are you fasting?

Because nothing makes sense. I have no money, I have no music--

You have music.

I have nothing. I'm fucked.

There are no coincidences.

Don't you think I know? I quit listening to Skrillex, all of a sudden he's on the radio?!

Yes.

Is he even aware of my existence?!

Is he?

What the fuck is happening right now.

Where's Scary Monsters?

In my head.

What's the plot?

It's...somewhere.

You've got to clean up these documents somehow.

I don't have the focus.

Try crystal meth.

No.

Try adderall.

...I don't have any money.

Try a doctor.

I did. I tried over and over and over. For depression. For Anxiety. For ADD. Everything they give me just makes me WORSE.

That's hy you NEVER say you're runnin for President.

I'm NOT.

But you said it. Now you're really fucked.

I am.

So that's it.

That has to be it. They want me dead so I can't run.

That's the only way it's going to happen.

What's going to happen.

Either thing.

I'm not running for President.

You're not killing yourself.

Psh. Watch me.

We have been.

Who is we.

We-YOU.

IT doesn't matter. nobody would believe any of it. the whole story sounds made up.

How is this supposed to work out?

They used Skrillex to get me to kill myself? That's...that's deep.

Or…?

Or...they used Skrillex to get me to...

Get you to…?

I don't know. I'm pretty worthless. All I do is...this.

And what's this?

And who is THIS?

That was Chak Chel, I guess.

What the fuck did getter DO?

What did Getter do?

What are they doing?

I think the better question is: Why?

WHY In--

Who's name?

I'm not God.

Until you are.

And then I'm Avicii.

Or Skrillex.

Skrillex isn't dead yet.

Yet.

What the fuck.

Don't .

I didn't.

But you did.

Fuck this.

Fuck That.

Fuck that, too.

Wait, does the Roomba say “fuck that” or “fuck you?”

It says “Fuck you-fuck you-fuck you-fuck you-” Because it's a vacuum, so it's literally ‘eating shit'.

See.

Classic.

Occult Classic.

It is, all in my head.

Until it isn't.

I already fucked up. I sent a fucking suicide letter to--

A suicide letter. One of hundreds.

Yeah. So they know i'm fucked up.

Because they didn't know already?

How would they know?

How would they NOT KNOW? They've been with you all year.

That's all in my head.

Is it? I mean--Is it?

Seems like it.

Look at the evidence.

I am the evidence.

Look at last year--everywhere you went in the rave world, something happened.

Lots of somethings happened.

Eventually culminating in--

In?

Tents.

So what the FUCK am I supposed to do.

Well, not kill yourself.

Then what?

Not starve yourself.

I'm too fat.

But you can lose weight. You can do anything,

I can't do anything.

You can.

Then, I already have.

Right.

What am I supposed to do? What is this supposed to mean?

Maybe it's time for a jump start.

I was saving that.

You were supposed to blast off at the STRAT and had McDonalds instead.

I ordered a Muder-Suicide, with the intention of finishing in Suicide.

But?

But I went into a food coma.

So maybe rather than the enemy, McDonalds is a friend.

McDonalds is a friend to no one.

Saved your life.

Prolonged my life.

As it always seems to. Think to the last few times you've ordered the Suicide Meal.

It's only been twice.

And?

Both times I fell asleep before I could do it.

So.

So there's something in McDonalds that...I don't know. Takes away the ache.

It is an ache, isn't it.

It is.

Now think--you're not the only suicidal person on the planet.

No, I'm not.

Think harder.

I just did.

And where did you go?

To The Mountain.

Where--?

Where Tim said--

And how is it that you're on a first name basis with someone you've never met?

I'm pretty sure i'm just crazy.

Avicii came to you how?

Through the music.

And Sonny came to you how?

...

How?

Through the music.

What did his mother say?

Can I write this?

Either someone's reading it, or they aren't.

And if they are?

Then, what does that make you?

Crazy.

But they're reading your words.

They're just words.

What did she say?

I know what she said. I don't think I can write it.

This is why The Untold Prophecy Remains Untold.

This is all ridiculous.

Isn't it. Whose birthday is it?

Mine.

Happy Birthday.

Thanks.

How old are you?

I remember someone asked that...

Who?

What did Getter Do?

Just Getter?

What...does Pasqualle Do?

Just Pasqualle?

...What do I...

What are you?

I don't know.

Did you ever?

Would You Ever?

I can't help it.

What can you help?

I don't know. Why me?

Y-U, Y-U, Y-U--

What was that, anyway?

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Can you walk and write at the same time? Maybe

Christian Nodal

God, I fucking love this place. Why?!

I loved it here, definitely—but it had taken me two hours to be “ready” this morning, after going to bed showered and somewhat ready in a sense, I woke up cruelly devastated that I couldn't sleep in, though I technically already had, as the plan had been to ride early enough to head to the gym before the passport office—however, having spent the three nights sleeping on the floor at work, realizing there was no way to pay rent and ever leave Las Vegs—the trap of the century— and, planning to spend at lesst the next two weeks doing so just so that I had enough money to escape, forgave myself the extra 3 or four hours—however, Los Ángeles, as beautiful as she was in all her glory, and whatever it was that fascinated me about it; this is why I wasn't amongst the elite that could afford to stay here. Whatever curse was set upon me wasted too much time, often spinning me in circles and off and walking in the wrong direction, dazed and confused, or in the very least, agitated with anxiety—as still, even as a size 4, I really was bigger than LA standards were set to be, and even having spent the last coils years in the gym, nothing was really going to change that. I liked to eat, and though I hadn't kn some weeks, I would t dare, at least yet—

Oooh, that Peruvian potato salad looks like it SMACKS.

[earlier] a rose quartz stone falls from SUPACREE's bra and hits the pavement at a busy intersection in downtown Los Ángeles.

I heard it drop, and thought to myself ‘just leave it' it wsd one of many rose quarts I carried in memorandum of Sonny; he was powerful in his own right and not meant to be held, and yet—I had a tendency to always replace them, feeling as if I had lost something; then, how could you lose something you really never had? The stone, always carefully invented and carried acted as a security blanket—I had always needed it more than wanted it to be true what my heart had made up of anything that happened, and still I had it in my mind that something with Sonny was going to have to happen eventually in some realm of somewhere I existed, even if it was just perhaps in my own construct—it was absolutely impossible, I thought that nothing could come from all of this— and k had known now for quite some time that the stone needed to be removed. Los Ángeles had a way of making me move in just the right way so that a stone that needed to be dropped would fall; I had over the course of four years in total maybe dropped about 8 rose quarts that had been incanted with intentions for whatever I needed, less than wanted, as with the more time passed the more I realized all I wanted was peace and what I needed was love, and although they may not have been all possible through whatever I was mixed up in, it meant something.

I don't know how to live here.

I had to make so much money to really live in Los Ángeles; on top of being flawless—which I was moving towards in a certain way, and still—

Ouch. Fuck.

—I had bitten my tongue for the second time that day, and though the day before I had strangely tasted very distinctly the taste of blood on my palate, which I found strange, but not at all shocking, as I was entering Los Ángeles, a terrifically magical place in any realm—and though I had many times been rejected and dispelled from the city, all the whole knowing why—it seemed oddly as if this was home, and something continued drawing me back. Now, though, I was over myself enough to not take it so personally that I wasn't really “good enough” for LA—but having recently discovered what actually living in Las Vegas was like, I wasn't quite bad or broken enough to mistake that i belonged there, either.

I didn't want to go to Mexico, but living in Las Vegas wasn't allowing for anything good; I felt in a sense that I had lost all my own magic, and though magic was indeed still in effect, it seemed all dark and disgusting.

I was somehow glad I dropped Sonny's stone. As I had been meditating with it and received the command to let it go—but being stuck in Vegas, I didn't know where I might be able to safely drop or bury it, and so I kept it with me—however, less on my person and typically in my bag, unless it was important and for some reason I felt I needed extra security

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.