I can't fall for this again—

Another rich and handsome man—

A dream he wants to be my friend

A dream he wants to hold my hand

Oh look,

Another dance for anthem

Look,

I'm just another fan

No, I can't fall for this again

—but they would go against the plan

A simple programming error,

Lips the color of a pomagranite

Circle on the palm,

And then , of course,

We press the center

And look, here we are again

Another life,

Another love

A new wife—

Another husband

Honest?

I'm just good with fucking

—aha

I just want to fuck you

I got love, but what it good for

Look at me, or look at nothing!

Look,

I'm just good with fucking

Check the news for new engagements

Fucking sick and fucking tragic

Nothing more than actors,

DJs, drinks and addicts

Look,

I'm just a happy accident—

I still hate Dillon Francis

And I never wanted Skrillex:

That shit never even happened!

Have you had enough yet?!

Carrot cake does sound good

Ten karat long engagement ring—

Is that a lot?

I'm just a homeless

Look, I'm just another DJ

Some fake model stole it

Some would call it occult Magic

—honest?

I just want some dick, man

Fuck it

—aha

I just want to fuck you

I got love, but what it good for

Look at me, or look at nothing!

Look,

I'm just good with fucking

You know why you like me?!

Yes, I know why I like you—

Cause I'm rich!

—no, actually—it's because you're smart.

Where in the fuck are you going?

I don't know yet.

Well, know faster—we have company.

Fuck.

Destroy every bit of evidence.

Ok.

—and make sure nobody sees you.

Yeah, right!

YO.

Why the fuck are you here, Timmy?

I told you, I'm not Timmy.

I don't give a fuck who you are—where's my money?

It's— it's on the way, I promise.

I'm don't take well tk promises, Timmy.

What do you take well to?

Money.

FUCK.

What!

FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!

What?!

We're too late, she's gone!

Goddammit.

—She was already here!

FUCK.

FUCK.

FUCK!

>>> FUCK!

How do you know?

—there's glitter, everywhere.

Is it gone?

It's gone?

ALL OF IT.

TIMMY TRUMPET plays a SKRILLEX.

Etto, Timmy?!

Oh shit, another Timmy.

That's weird. I was just thinking he about Skrillex.

Why.

Timmy, put a shirt on.

That's it.

What.

You can't be hot and play the trumpet.

Why.

One thing's gotta go.

THE DEVIL takes away Timmy Trumpet's ability to play the trumpet.

WHAT.

Can't have both.

Well, I don't really need both now, do I?

When I'm in a tough spot I have to listen to deadmau5

—something about the precision and frequencies out my brain somewhere between auropilot and dead space.

I don't know.

I've done just about everything you can think of listening to deadmau5.

Almost.

But, I noticed—

Working out to deadmau5 is strange.

It puts me in some kind of vibration where people notice me—

Not just notice me.

People are suddenly “impressed” with whatever it is I'm doing.

And it's usually something regular as fuck—

I'm just doing it to deadmau5.

And for some reason, people are like

“Wooooow!!”

Okay, whatever.

I used to work out to Skrillex.

Actually.

I used to work out to only Skrillex.

I don't know if its just because I was fat, or cause I liked Skrillex.

Now its like running a serrated knife up my spine.

I started to figure out I was kind of famou—

Kind of—

When I showed up at the gym and Skrillex songs kept coming on

I'm like

“This is what I get for doing nothing but free trials”

But hey,

You try finding a gym in the shitty areas of New York worth paying for.

It's very hard.

The crazy thing about this story is—

There's a lot of crazy things about this story, actually.

EXT. BASKETBALL COURT. DAY.

Alright— shirts and skins —Shirt—Skin Shirt,Skin—

Uhh! Nah. I wanna be “shirts”

Why dude?! Your girl's mad hot!

So?!

So I know you got it goin on! Look at you!

I'm mad rich!

Yeah—but girls always cheat on flabby rich dudes! With hotter dudes.

My girlfriend might be cheating on me!

Yeah—She's not, though.

How do you know?

Cause I tried!

Yeah. Take your shirt off.

No—uh! How do you know she's just not into you!

Because! He tried—

HE tried!

You sell out.

And Andre tried—

[ANDRE is tall (about 6'9 dark, and handsome]

—you too, bro?

[ANDRE shrugs nonchalantly]

That's an NBA player—

What the FUCK, YO.

—and she said NO.

ANDRE

Yup. Shot me down.

Oh really—from all the way up there?!

Face it, man! You're fuckin hot!

I don't like the way that sounds coming from you—

Take your shirt off!

Were you this aggressive with my girl?!

Don't be like that…

Nah— fuck you!

Yo! C'mon, man—

And you three!

You're holding up the game getting mad over nothing. It's Hollywood!

It's Beverly Hills!

—Exactly my point!

You're new here—you'll catch on.

You know what!

I'm shirts—you're skins—Game on.

[SUNNI BLU goes beast mode and plays the dirtiest, most whoopass game in history—out of spite and anger of the toxic masculinity; this of course earns SUNNI BLU even more respect as a “man's man”]

Later: as the owner of the clippers, sunni BLU trades “Andre” to the worst basketball team in history.

For,

As soon as the moon is full,

She also begins to wane—

And as sure as we are to shine,

We also fade away

I had one slice of red velvet cake, one slice of cheesecake—which of course only reminded me of Sonny Moore—the decadent, delicious red velvet—and Dillon Francis—the spiced and ecclectic trademark carrot cake—if only not to sooty the pain of joe much I wanted both of them, but probably didn't need them—how I craved them so, but they probably weren't good for me, nor would they last—

—but they would both be delicious, anyhow.

The seagull said.

“To the sea, we go!”

Overhead, he flies

As the day goes by me

Idly, I wait—

I could take a ride,

But i'd rather be

By myself,

By my…

INT. EMPIRE ENPANADAS. NIGHT

You gonna order?

What you got?

Empanadas.

Just empanadas?

—Yeah.

Okay, that's weird.

Lol the only thing funny about this scene is that their New York accents are so atrociously heavy.

Right.

—weird.

INT. SUBWAY STATION. DAY.

Sunni BLU is passed out in the subway station.

Ew…

Yeah, my god.

Wait—is that—

—sunni?!

SUNNI drunkenly groans.

Sunni! Get up!

Ughhhh.

What are you doing?!

I'm drunk.

I know that.

You're always drunk.

Yeah.

What are you doing here.

What.

In the subway.

I do this sometimes.

What. For what?!

You never know who you're gonna meet.

In the subway

On the floor?!

YeH! I met R- Kelly down here!

What!

When was this

Not at this station, though, but yeah.

To think,

It was all just an awful game, to make you write more songs—

And in the end, if you don't make the cut

They just make you kill yourself, anyway.

Love isn't real, but money is;

And all men want is money,

So they can buy the love—

And all women want is love—

But it has to come with money

Or it all just falls apart

It all just falls apart

It all just falls apart

“Illuminatus”,

Open, close

Illuminaudio, for starters

Cross a crucifix for sons, and wanted daughters

What's a brother to a sister—

Or a mother to a father?

What's a stop sign to a car,

If no one's driving?

In the end, they kill you off

In the end, they kill you off

With every cough, they kill you off—

But there's always another

Who wants to be a star—

Or just

The mother of his child,

Maybe both

Genetic lotto luck

—the cut off.

Agatha…

A far cry, out into the distance–a wind, almost a whisper; A lover, long gone and almost since forgotten, unseen since the very dawn of time and first ever glimpse of light–

…We Meet Again.

FUCK. WHAT IS THIS.

I know, man.

FUCK.

Fuck.

Well, are you gonna tell this story or not?

This isn't possible.

It is possible.

This isn't happening.

–

This dude has a radio tower in his front yard.

That's his front yard?!

I fucking guess.

What is that.

That's a satilite.

Nice.

Yep.

Alright, you son of a bitch.

Hey! My mom's nice!

Not that nice–bringing you here.

How do you know that's how I got here?

Exactly my point.

[cocks pistol slowly.]

You're dead, mouse.

OH.

I GET IT.

kill that motherfucker.

Wait. Hold up.

Hold the phone!

Holding.

How did we get to this point?

I mean– a few ways.

What are you watching.

SHH.

Wedon'tknow.

SHHH.

OK!

SHHHHHHH!

IT' getting good.

Ya. It's getting deeper.

So much deeper.

WAit.

…

Who are you?

I'm a fan.

No.

How did you get in my house?

It's my house.

It's–

–no.

No, it's not.

YEs. this is my house.

No.

What.

GEt out.

SHH.

What.

DUde–

No.

Ze show is on and it is getting one deeper. Be quiet.

IT's getting two deeper.

–like nine deeper.

SHHH.

Oh, I get it.

She really wants to fuck Dillon Francis.

#FuckDillonFrancis

Uh, no–

I already did that.

Gross.

Excuse me.

You are excused!

I mean, I beg your pardon.

Please, don't beg.

Er, uh–

Could you repeat that last part?

Woah, this gets multidimensional as fuck.

I have a time machine.

Are there any loopholes?

There are loopholes.

THere better be loopholes.

Sorry, we're out.

GodDAMMIT.

What.

I was really looking forward to those loopholes.

Well, they're gone.

FUCK.

HEre, have some

Oh-Noh's.

I don't want–

Just SHUT UP and EAT YOUR CEREAL.

Don't worry–I'm still Team Skrillex.

There are TEAMS?!

Oh, yeah, bro.

Oh, so–it is a love story.

I don't think that's what this is.

I'M GONNA MURDER YOU.

Ok.

WITH MY DICK.

A-1.

There's something I need to tell you.

What.

But i'm sworn to secrecy

Then how am I supposed to–

Just–shh– follow my lead.

“The Magic Effect.”

Did it work?

Don't know yet.

You nutted to this girl 36 times in the last 20 Calendar days.

Ok…

36 Times. One Girl. 20 Days.

…What's your point.

This is ferocious.

I have your entire internet history.

All of it?

Oh yes. All of it.

Welp.

Well.

THat's it for me.

I've had enough.

There's no Skrillex Deepfake.

Aw. that sux.

Why would you look at this?

…why not, though?

You're a disturbed man.

I'm pretty regular.

REGULR TO WHO?

*shrugs* Me, I guess.

TURN THIS OFF.

I can't take it anymore.

Whatever happened to the–

SHHH.

Fuck. I'm so wasted.

So what do you think is gonna happen?

Listen. I have a lot to get through. THis is all just nonsense.

I think we're avoiding some heavy subjects, here.

Well, there are a lot of discrepancies.

Kill yourself.

I just did.

Kill yourself–again.

I–GodDAMMIT.

Just do it.

NO.

Come on.

Congratulations, you got the job!

Yes! Thank you!

…What's the job?

I need you to get the fuck out of here in the next five seconds–before I blow my head off, and take you with me.

Don't do that.

Five…

Yo, i'm serious.

Four…

Jesus Christ, dude.

YOu don't think this hits a little close to home.

Home? what is home?

For the Record, Skrillex, Dillon Francis, and Deadmau5 respectively are all getting their dicks sucked on yachts right now in some foreign exotic country–

You're not wrong.

That is correct.

Standard music business.

And People are living in tents under bridges.

I'm just saying.

If you think this project is reckless and bizarre, check your own simulation.

So.

So.

Where were we?

Somewhere between blowing our heads off and getting our dicks sucked?

I'm sure there's a striking correlation somewhere.

‘My Candle Burns At Both Ends…'

Oh, More Occult Magic

God Bless The Illuminati

GOD

I Am The Illuminati

Glad that's settled.

Three.

Goddamit, don't do this.

Two– [cocks pistol]

Why just pistols.

Cause shotguns are messy–

–and for dramatic effect;

I love that sound.

[the other party quickly removes his handgun from his waistband, shooting the other man and then himself quickly; They now both lay dead.]

How do I write this

Just write it.

I need adderall.

You need Jesus.

By goD, youre right. [iPhone]

What are you doing?

Calling on Jesus.

Are you serious.

He's the plug.

Ugh.

I need adderall.

What did I do?!

YOu know what you did.

∆

Well, alright then.

∆

Must be something.

∆

I got it.

“The Legend of Supacree”

L E G E N D S

“Tales of A Superstar DJ”

To do: Cut Freaky Friday 001

Cut Throwback Thursday 001

Cut SOM III

Part I {God Is God]

Part II [Clockwork]

–Pull 212 Remix

It's far beyond my control

I get out of my head and into my soul

In one ear, never out the other

If the wind blew down your door,

How would I call for you?

—Through her, I suppose

And the silk of her hair,

Or the satin of her dress,

—

Oh, it's almost admissible,

Surely admirable,

Worth a smile or not,

That all the world is words,

In the end,

As I tear down my worlds,

and start over from One

And I've already stopped enough once for today,

I think

Surely, what you'd like is just

The time to get it all to nothing

(Never had I wanted it or needed it)

The phone was ringing,

But I'll never be off the hook again,

If you look for the proper way to move forward,

You'll never find it,

Especially looking behind you

(Always looking behind you—

Head in the past

Just like you

It's just like me,

Too,

To sit down and decide a whole song about you

While taking it all down.

I'm never distraught with the thoughts of a stranger,

Oh, on the contrary;

You should be mad about battle,

But I'm all for the veterans and

And never off if we were not at war with one another, but

Then again,

That's all we've ever done

It would be

Devastating

To even think of

Something more clever

“Clever and splendiferous confectionary efforts,

Just spectacular concessions my dear; I'll have another.”

Hadn't I deciphered once or twice the rhyme for riddles down to dollars and cents?

I did, I thought, once.

I never hindered Heaven from pondering over my shoulder once or twice upon a full lit moon, which under I predicted my own fortune.

Once— or twice, but—

Nevermind, or nothing;

Indifference, for instance, instantly inscessent ancestral insimination incriminating risidual visuals uhh—

—From the festival.

Right.

The festival project.

[—Parallels.—]

GOD: So you want to be The “Glass Animals”

*nods*

Glass Animals.

That's what I said. Glass Animals

There's no “The”

Context.

Ok.

So–”Glass Animals”

*nods*

Are you sure you don't want to be made of something else?

*nods*

*shrugs* Okayy. Glas Animals.

I'm lost,

But don't remind me

Running out of time

But time can't find me

Open up my eye 10 times in 9 days

I should probably fall away

Back to the bay,

No baby, don't cry

No baby, don't cry

No baby, don't cry

[Midnight Request Line.]

Sleek black corvette.

Not a dent, not a scratch

And I am feeling better,

Since you asked

What a warm and welcome

Pleasant, wet suprise

What do I owe you the—time

I guess it made me smile for awhile, now

I'm sad again—

Wow, that was quick…

Only took a second, but don't mind my arrogance

‘—I play this and it puts me in a trance.'

I want to dance with you

I hope someone holds my hand like that, one day

Where are you taking me?

“Away, my dear, away…”, he's saying…

I lie awake midday and taking shallow breaths,

I drift away

A weapon for my empathy,

[Midnight Request Line.]

I have no idea what happened.

‘Ambiguous Ambitions - The Crossing ‘

A shiver up my spine

I don't really mind,

I'm still trying to find the word for it—

But tongue in cheek it is

That's—if it fits

You but me once,

And I liked it

Come bite me twice

If you buy it;

Alright, Ryan—where is it?

Where is what?

You know what I'm talking about.

I don't know anything!

“Ryan Remembers Everything”

Goddamn it, wake up.

I need silence.

GET UP, GODDAMNIT.

Okay—

Okay—

—I just need you to tell me where it is—

Where what is?!

I don't think this is very funny.

This got serious.

Ouch.

I don't want to watch TV anymore ever again.

I really wish you'd tell me

Oh, you wish?

Watch this.

I'm sorry, Ryan.

Hello.

I—hello.

I'll have a tall order of whatever's in that box.

You want what's in that box?

Yessir.

What is happening?

I dunno.

I'm afraid that's going to be a problem.

*gasp* can we have ninjas?

*NINJAS*

NINJA FIGHT.

—oh sht rly.

*lmfao*

Sometimes imm set in my ways,

Sometimes days go by—days,

In the blink of an eye,

Ever since I decided,

I might have had love with you.

I think we have some things to figure out, about it

—it being ourselves,

And washing my hands never felt so right

In my life

Somebody told me the stars in the sky were spirit guides,

And it stuck,

I'm up all night,

But iMm the only star I see

In New York City

Don't look up to see me—

Don't look up to me please, kid, really

I mean, why, my baby?

I mean,

Hi lady—

You so fly tonight, just my delight

I —

Like the way I look by you

I—

You know,

If I sit in the city every night like this,

And write,

It just might

Be the end of me

Be the end of me

Be the end of me

You know,

If I did get the limelight,

Right on time to soothe and

Satiate my need to be an idol LC

Even this late in life,

Like—

—fuck

‘8I just want him to like me'

I shouldn't even think about

Superstardom like that,

But I'll be right back,

I gotta get the rabbit out the

White hat,

What a habit to have, huh

What an idea that we might all get along

Or a lot done

Or be better off alone

Than just to fuck off

And write another song—

Because the audience will like it

But we're all over it;

It's all done, isn't it?

“The Running Game”

I don't know what you want to hear from me. \

How about, “I'm sorry.”

Ok, I'm sorry.

You don't do much, do you?

I guess I don't.

Sabotage//Salvation

Idk what thisis supposed to mean.

This is my demise.

You're completely a ticking time bomb.

You're not wrong.

Salvation, from the doldrums.

A sound to soothe my soul,

I sink beneath you,

South and under smoky water

Open mouth, and barely thought of,

Although often,

Walk or waltz, would I

To fall, my love,

So becoming of a flower;

forth and outward over fountains;

Leaps and bounds,

Of course–

Well, this is dope af.

What are you doing.

What.

What happened.

THis is really good.

So.

So, i gotta turn this one off now–

And listen to that one insead.

All the time?

Yeah.

Oh.

For, like ever..?

Well, no.

I gotta put it in the vault.

Noooh.

Yes.

YEs.

Yes.

Forever.

FOrever, no, for now– yes.

That could be almost forever.

Yeah. Almost.

“Almost Invisible.”

Take out my eyes, for now

(If i could, would you want them)

To beg or to barter for,

I offer them up, as

Ritual sacrifice

(it's just a)

Ritual Sacrifice.

These two eyes.

__

He was the boy who owned the world;

Hailing from the land of a thousand suns,

He said,

“I'll give you a dozen roses, honey,

If all you ever do is,

Smile for me,

So, go ahead,

Smile for a dozen roses or more,”

And the irony is that she did it–

Not for the roses,

–but for the attention.

(Just for the attention.)

It was she who birthed the worlds;

Building the land of a thousands suns,

She said

I'll give you a dozen horses,

“If you could just–

Pick the winning one”

And the irony is,

that he did it–

Because he loved horses,

And now he had twelve of them!

(--And any one could be the winning one,

no matter what she does;

He's got a dozen of em,

Anyway.)

Fuck.

What.

Well, that went off the deep end.

Fuck.

Well, this just got dark.

This guy comes off your blacklist tonight.

No, this person

Guy.

PErson. Most certainly does not.

I promise if I love a=a=A=a

What is this

That's a making no complese sense equation.

Think about it in a multidimensional–

Oh, that makes total sense.

Just remember, when using this– this has been around for a really long time.

It's been A long time.

I died in your bed,

But woke up in your arms;

Oh when you love, love–

Love me harder,

Love me harder–

Oh, baby when you love,

love me harder

Love me harder

Love//Love Me Harder

Love//Love Me Harder

Love//Love//Love

Love Me Harder

Love//Love Me Harder

Love//Love//Love

Love Me Harder

I woke up in your bed,

And then died in your arms;

It was a work of art, I suppose

What we were, or are

(Or aspire to be.)

Please. Give me your iPhone.

No!

No?

(Takes I phone.)

Is there a reason you don't want me having this?

…no.

No?

—it's full of stuff.

“Stuff.”

Yes. It's—

“Stuff.”

Yes.

—

—and things.

I know.

Look.

We had a deal.

We had no “deal”

We had a deal.

This train just goes on forever, you know;

Whether you're on, or off it—

So get off, and back on at the wrong stop

Once, if not just for the discovery

Of another supermarket,

Where you shop for strawberries and

Groceries

Good flex, God;

I got a gang of em

I'm gonna explain it as straight as it gets

Sometimes,

You just got to know where to go

If you don't trust your gut,

You'll just never get,

Never get it right.

Alright, alright,

I started it

Alright, right—

I gotta get it right,

I gotta get ;

I'm the worst at introductions

Oh and,

So bad at

Goodbyes

Oh, why'd you have to leave me by my idol

Why,

Why'd you have to lead me by my eyes

By my eyes

God, I love the way

I love the way,

I love the way you

Love me

God, I love

The way you

The way you

Love me

You forgot about me, didn't you?

You forgot all about me

You forgot all about it—

All about it

Al about it

It's not the same, anymore

Since you gave it a name, is it?

There's nothing I can do

To help me, help you

This is all I can do,

To help me, love you

I have to remove you;

I have to remove you

In a room—

Full of beauty—

In a world,

Full of woes

I lose the last dose of you, on my tongue

Nobody ever wanted it, like I do—

Like I do

I lose the last dose of you on my tongue,

And I'm all full of love again;

I never saw anything like it,

I was a modem, still plugged into the wall

An anonymous post partum unremarkable

Post-party proclamations

and eternal damnation for ordering breakfast

Evading transportation authorities

Unworried the informant sleeping under me

Oh,

Now she wants to song—

Oh, look—

And now, she has a song to sing

A point to make,

A wrong to ring;

The man she brings along

Is bad for her

Oh, she's gotta work

(She loves to work,

She's got to work it)

What kills her makes her stronger

What doesn't kill her makes her stronger

All she does is

Carry on

And

Carry on

And

Carry on.

Mrs Sheffield left flushing queens, for this.”

Mrs Sheffield left Flushing, Queens, for this?!

Mrs Sheffield left Flushing, Queens for this!

Mrs, Sheffield!

-1flushing queens, fah ‘dis.

Very well worth it,

I got all the way to broklyn

And way beyond my means for this

It's well outta my means.

It's out of my hands, now.

That boy called you “grandpa”

How is it all over?

When I bet to God I was,

Just in your lap at this party,

And you were under me slippin on some sort of

Lager or

Something

Weren't you?

Yeah,

I was just there, too

I was just there, too—

I was just there, too—

Oh, now she has a song…

All of a sudden.—

But it's not all of a sudden at all

It's not all of a sudden

There's nothing, is there?

Oh,

There's something, surely

I went to bed late;

But I'm getting up early.

I see the way he looks at me—

—take it easy, baby

We could have the whole room waiting

Like a stoner at a stop sign

My bad,

My eyes lie to me

All the time

Driving me mad

Telling me

I want you inside me

My bad

My bad

Well, I want you in my bed

But I haven't had one yet

I'm thinking Purple Mattress;

Or is that mids, to you kids

Like Timmy ho's

Or my mustang civic

It's a custom, yeah

Nobody has it yet

It's a hybrid

Like I am

—I am a bit off subject, now

(My bad)

We never had sex in my bathroom

(That was your house)

I took a mouse to the mountain

(My bad)

My writing is getting more

Acid-centric,

Lysergic acid diethylamide;

I didn't buy any,

But I haven't the need anymore,

Really

I just wake up like this:

That is, when I wake up

(I have long nights, kids)

My bad

I want to see you very briefly

Without your briefs,

You know what I mean?

Me neither—

Sexual delinquency in meditated frequencies

Repeat this sequence

I keep my deepest secrets

Where I need it

Right up my slime,

Where my spleen is—

Dreamed it, and I haven't cleaned since

(Or dreamed since)

In this

Endless emission,

Ignition sequence begins

When The Lean splits

Under the blood moon;

An eclipse.

I drift off a lot—

Just thinking of your penis

My daydreams are not very safe for the public

I think they're X-rated or worse,

Even thinking of you as a person,

Or worse:

As my husband

once, as my lover—

Lovers have all the fun, anyway

Hm

All the things that I'd do to you

After you put me through—

What are you looking for, exactly?

A synchronicity.

Just any synchronicity?

There's no such thing as “just any” synchronicity.

Does “laying low” mean nothing to you?

I'm laying low!

On a city tour?!

It's a big city!

[From Afar]

IS THAT HER?

Aw, fuck.

Well, well, well–here we go–0

I don't have time for this.

Here it is.

I don't know what you're doing.

We're going on an adventure!

NO.

I. Cant. Enjoy. Anything.

WELCOME TO HOLLYWOOD.

I hate this.

My creativity had become merciless–inspiration pouring from the world as if all that it wanted wast o be collected and captured in any way I could see fit to create–

What do you want?

Out of life–or in this store?

Out of life.

Lets start with this store.

A Living Lion;

The eyes inside,

I smiled, declined to act on impulse

He'll admit,

She's less complex, cause she's basic

Everthemore complacent, blatantly lazy--

and crazy adorable.

Whatmore could any man want?

Whatmore could any man need?

Whatmore could any man have;

But the best friend who needed therapy,

Several Plastic surgeries,

A fading glass menagerie--

If she knew what that means.

(Basically, they're both nobodies.)

‘What on God's awful green earth

makes you think I would

ever want

anything

to do

with either of you two

Losers?

Beggars can't be choosers.

His plan B was Annie;

But she was never like me

Enough to be

Happy with

Sonny;

Let alone anybody.

What is happening?

Do you have an explanation of what's happening to me.

Every realm of reality and possibility. This is infinity.

What is this all supposed to mean to me?

You can see everything and nothing;

You can be anything.

So what would that mean?

What does it mean to you?

That Love is Love, then.

I've been half of a wide-open bleeding heart,

Since the Goddamn start of it.

He started it,

Or someone did

I didn't ever ask for it

I was only ever always on the dancefloor when it mattered.

I was always looking past him, but not ever looking at him.

It was always just at random, but i'd never thought to ask him

A question,

Or to greet him--

I just.

Adjust.

They're watching us, from above.

Adjust.

They just don't trust us

Adjust.

Look what we've done, look what we've done to the planet that gave us all the light that we come from.

Look, there.

It appears to be ‘shimmering'

What exactly is happening.

The entirety of its surface is Auquous.

Oceana.

If i learn all the planets,

In the everlasting galaxies--

And learn how to explore it…

I just might get to Skrillex.

I might fully need a Xanex bar if I ever see this kid in person.

He's olden than you.

By like, a minute.

Still.

I mean, really. I don't think this is ever going to work.

It might not work, I mean--

What?

If you had to actually--

Oh God, no; I'd be far too nervous.

So what are you going to do when it comes time for festival season

Run.

Hide.

Run + Hide.

Fight or Flight; A Natural Response to Skrillex

There is no natural response to Skrillex, because it's unnatural

Be civil.

I am I ‘m trying to figure out how to protect this species.

Oh now, you're acting as if he's not human

Of course he is. But i'm not.

Of course.

All it is, is science, a bit of misunderstanding.

Experimental sorcery, possible exploitation.

I'm not exploiting Skrillex.

No, he's exploiting YOU.

No.

Wake the fuck up.

No.

(Stop repeating yourself)

Wake up; you're being manipulated.

By Skrillex? Cool.

By whatever's manipulating Skrillex.

Alright.

Alright? You're part of a machine.

So?

“SO?” You're this comfortable having given your soul up to the devil.

I haven't done that.

Do you know what it takes to achieve that of which you so covet.l

Money.

And?

Power.

Go on.

Fame.

So, calculate.

It adds up the same either way.

Skrillex isn't real.

Maybe not, but Sonny Moore is--

Is, what--

Is “who”...

“Who…”

I love.

What?

--But that's all I know.

That's it?

Yes.

Elaborate.

Can't.

What do you mean?

Well, it goes like this: This is insanity. I've been through every wormhole, every parallel, every revolutionary subconscious thought, every world, every realm, every lifetime...and at the end of the day--or the beginning, depending-- it's really all the same question, and the same answer--over and over again; From the Beginning to the End. It is infinite. Everything is Everything.

Quickly, tell me--

What, now?

What goes on a Skrillex Pizza?

Nothing, because it's not a thing!

It is not.

It isn't!

Stop arguing at get to work.

On what?

On building

Building What

[The] Skrillex.

How in the fuck am I supposed to do that?

How in the fuck did you get to be a vegetarian?

It just happened.

So.

So…

Are you really a vegetarian?

___

Why did you do this?

I didn't do this! You did this!

I didn't do this! Why would I do this?

How could you!

I didn't!

What the fuck is HE doing here?

What the fuck.

You need to stop this.

I can't stop.

What did you DO.

Exactly what I had to.

Shasta!

Who the fuck is that?

That's that bitch.

I told you it was Shasta.

Who the fuck is Shasta. What show is this?

Where is Skrillex?

FUCK SKR—

Wait, what show is this?

INT. THE VOID. DAY & NIGHT.

I remember the first time I ever realized, I could love anyone in the world, if they needed me to—or, if they just gave me the chance. Or if I got the chance. Or, if there was a chance.

And, if there was a chance, and it was supposed to happen, it always would—especially if I wanted it—

But definitely, if I needed it.

But, what is is “if”?

And, what is “supposed”?

What is it to “want”?

And what's a “need”?

Now I know— or at least pretend to.

Because, the more it is I think I know, the actual less I feel that I actually do;

None the wiser, I am what I always was—

And God is, as I am.

Sunni Blu becomes a popular androgynous rapper, as as s/he rises to fame is forced to take on a mre masculine persona to monetize thiher music.

After releasing a series of Skrillex diss-tracks, and music aimed at OWSLA's top dogs, a feud between Skrillex and Sunni Blu, or rather their ‘teams' breaks out into the media.

After Skrillex is hacked and left with his entire music collection missing, it is presumed the attack and disappearance of his hard drives was orchestrated by Sunni; After his unreleased music is leaked and the damage is deemed ‘irreparable' The Skrillex Project is forced to close, and the artist himself disappeared into obscurity-- after hearing one of his unreleased tracks used for one of Sunni Blu's hits, he( ‘*the fictional Skrillex*) secretly attends one of Sunni's concerts; Sunni Blu spots him in a large crowd and the two brawl; Skrillex with the upper hand after Sunni draws back from a bloody nose and retreats; It is revealed that the unreleased Skrillex track which was ‘gifted' to her came from the stolen collection, unbeknownst to Sunni Blu

Although Sunni Blu's true identity has yet to be revealed to more than Dillon Francis, beside the publicity and management who have been helping to keep her secret;

Dillon Francis and Sunni Blu are cornered by paparazzi, revealing to the public that she is, in fact, a female;

As allegations arise that Sunni Blu is a transgender, rumors put a strain on Sunni Blu and Dillon Francis's collaborations…

TBC.

All of a sudden—or maybe, even, not so suddenly—I was Clark Kent—or whatever Superman's name was. I had been without contacts or glasses for quite some time, and had quite explicitly in one of my many letters to God—or really any holy power in a realm which might have received my charred requests—all the things I needed, and some of the things I very badly wanted—tightly bundled and wax-sealed with intention for nothing besides that of the greater good, or course, for myself or anyone else—set ablaze in the unforgiving streets of New York City, in secrecy at odd hours of the night; it hadn't been my actual intent to have to practice any magic at all, especially under the circumstances, it it seemed that someone nearly unmentionable at all, had hexed a nasty attack on my psyche—a satanic, demonic possession of the weak and feeble bodies around me, and unable to isolate in completion, I became vulnerable to such a wicked curse that it had altered my psychic morality—as one does not practition a counter-curse or attack , in my medicinal expertise, without first being provoked—as one military typically mustn't bomb another, or even it's own enemy without being first considerably attacked—and it was, at this point, indeed a terrible holy war.

I pulled the stars into order

I put the water to fountains, in mountaintops

I don't know who I am either

But you call me God,

Agree, I'd not—

But at least I love you

I believe I was you once

I'm awful sorry that I broke you

I might have put the sun

Just to far up and out of reach

Believe me, see—I see you

Doesn't matter what we try to do

Unity is beautiful

I live on the 8th floor

I don't intend what I'm there for

It doesn't feel bad though

It doesn't feel bad though

I don't know what you're after

-Blū

Do I scare you?

Only a little.

Huh.

What?

Nothing..

I hate you.

ihateyou.

Eventually, The Ascended Masters will intervene.

They already have.

Oh, Christ Almighty.

He's not coming.

[Answering Phone] Jesus Christ Almighty

–WHERERU?

I TOLD YOU I'D GET THERE GODDAMNIT.

Fascinating.

Do my eyes deceive me,

Or

Is there a secret between us:

A secret illusion;

Should I bury it,

Or keep it neatly

And unseen,

Between my knees,

And where you need me?

Is there a thing that I should need,

But never speak–

I'll keep it in my sweet release

To dream beliefs of evil

Seen, aquamarine revines,

And pulsing veins,

–and stolen hearts,

Not passing judgment,

But just passing by

To hide, to pass the time

To find a high,

Align in color

Fly,

Write another rhyme,

Or wire fireflies a transfer of light,

Like the eyes reflect to mine.

WHY would you write this?

WHY.

I hate blue eyes.

That's racist.

No it isn't.

Congratulations on making it into my aerospace, unscathed

A coincidence, this is not.

I have something for you.

I don't need anything from you.

That's because I gave you everything you need.

Right. I have everything.

RIght.

So you should know whatever you need comes at a high price.

What makes you think I need something.

You said you have something for me?

Yes I do.

You don't seem the gift giving type.

I'm not.

So, what do you want from me?

WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?

Oh. it' s another one.

What's he need?

Probably nothin, really

Oh, it's something.

This shouldn't be happening.

I agree.

why is this bothering me.

Google it's self had deleted half my entry, which was admittedly sloppily thrown together, at nearly a full episode's length; probably for the best, as I was becoming more intolerant of my societal responsibility by the moment, and increasingly self destructive asa result. It was still chaotic; fame kept coming closer towards me and then leaping away, but not out of reach or out of sight, but rather than chase it, I merely calmly strode forward in a never-changing pace, not rushing and always careful to remain calm, even when filled with fury. I had become unrecognizably fit, chaste, and a remarkably healthy eater; I was all together well, besides in the areas of romance and sexuality of course. I was ready to pounce, but timing would be key, and patience the virtue;

UH – “hehe”

…I beg your pardon.

“Hehe”

Um…

Fuck.

Or “haha” “haha”

…

Just admit it.

…

Admit it already!

–haha.

Admit WHAT.

This gets Levels.

Nobody thought Patrice O Neal was a woman!

I thought Patrice O Neal Was a Woman.

Ah, fuck, I'm nobody.

“Nobody”

Is that Bob Saget?

I swiped right on this dude, just cause he looked exactly like Bob Saget.

Omg. Bob Saget!

Fuck, that's right.

EXT. THE W HOTEL, BEVERLY HILLS, DAY/ EXT . PODSHARE WESTWOOD ROOFTOP, DAY

OH MY GOD, GUYS, LOOK: IT'S BOB SAGET.

No it's not!

Oh My God! Yeah IT IS!

Fuck, really?! Bob Saget?!

BOB SAGET!

YO GUYS, IT'S BOB SAGET.

It was, in fact, Bob Saget.

Bob Saget's dead, right?

Oh yeah, bud.

That's it guys! No more dead celebrities!

I'm coming with you!

NO MORE GHOSTS.

Look, I have something to tell you.

UGH. COME ON.

This is a weird superpower.

EXT. GRAVEYARD, QUEENS, NY. DAY

…

…

…

Having fun yet?

Alright! I have a question!

What?

When do I get to–

Get to what?

You know.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.