I thought surely the next presidential election was one or two years out, but the racial tensions which had been rising became even more pronounced, as I realized that November was theboncoming time—and that they hostility between the whites and the blacks had once again been a result as the oncoming war, fueled onward—that the hatred, disgust, and general aggression of the whites had been of course, in the midsts of yet another Trump-fueled political upheaval, and I wondered why and how at all I had been caught in such a world that existed in form of man, of course, now proven himself to be the weaker sex, and yet in that of dominance, as was arranged in such an unholy war, to be the helm of power by sheer greed— now it seemed that these attacks were indeed political terrorism, and that these motorcyclists, my placement close to the ground level, and my neighbor's clammorings were specific attacks, after my identity had been varied to be that of the same in which I had once held political ambition, now none of which I assumed mattered at all. Perhaps I needed something more certain than a 12 story jump or suicide by train, and wondered as to whether it would be easy enough to kill myself bh self inflicted gunshot—a sure thing for certain, as love has been lost in the way of money at all.

At that party…or rather, kind of—after.

That acid that never hit Beyoncé

I don't feel it.

Man, I'm a terrible influence(r)

Just take it.

Nah, I'm good—

PUSSY.

-_-

Give me three.

K.

—suddenly hits BEYONCÉ.

BEYONCÉ

…I got this.

[BEYONCE] however, does not

Ohh, shit.

— “got this.”

A very stranded, very sober Johnny depp stumbles upon what appears to be a college frat party, where the only thing they have is light beer, and nobody even recognizes him as a celebrity, because the attendees are all gen z

What's even after gen z?

The fucking apocalypse.

Anyway.

The acid hits Beyoncé on her way to make coffee, which extends the trip from the living room to the kitchen infinitely.

Multidimensional Anne Hathaway hulks the fuck out and saves the day by ruining everything, which actually fixes everything— and *spoiler* helps Jesus to remain as the king of kings at beer pong.

Lol

In the late 90s in New York City, the keystone cast of Saturday night live learns of each other's formerly sexret psychic abilities, and uses the radio technologies of Rockefeller plaza to develop a research center for the telepathically gifted, eventually discovering and perfecting time travel.

Supacree (the kid version) appears in and out of her ideal and desired realities, baffling ‘the Hollywood people' and later ‘the New York people', becoming the legendary central figure of the Illuminati, as the original timepiece — a pyramid shaped extra terrestrial vehicle which contains an ascended hyper conciousness, which

I can't remember how it goes, did the supacree leave to find the Skrillex, or was it the other way around?

I think it was both ways at some point, but the whole thing was this, just in case I never wrote it but just saw—

These space god (humanoid evolved) are some kind of scientists/ doctors— there are four timepieces, each representing an era upon our planet; earth, which is distant but sacred— these four time pieces each depart their given “docs” in time to appear on earth at specific

Fuck this is hard to explain

Times in history, at which the first worlds, or previous human eras were known to have been destroyed— these time pieces travel through time space with the full record of these events in order to alert the current human era of its imminent doom, as an attempt to prevent such disasterous events, typically war, which will lead to the annihilation of the human species; these Gods, one male and one female, a king and queen, a married couple are the rules of the humankind, technically worshiped as a whole as one God, with whom the human design was modeled after, however, the true source of all things is the cosmos, known and unknown, in its totality—neither man or woman, but the force of creation.

Anyway, what else is happening

Oh.

All of the celebrities are stuck in—

[the festival project] in some way, shape, or form until its creator finishes it—and though it in itself is infinite, its 'finishing' notates its eventual production, which

lol. That is never going to happen.

Because.

Let's face it.

I'm scared of

…rich people.

Yeah, sure. Yeah.

I'm scared of

The effect of the race war, which has been to pit the white woman against the black woman, which allows and maintains the continuation of war mongering male dominance over the entire planet, which remains as a destructive force of greed, racism, and inequality.

So why try

“Trying Is Doing”

-The Isms

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

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