The Secret Life Of Sunnï Blū

Bro there has better be a better drop after a monologue like that or I'm gonna be mad at myself for staring into space.

(There wasn't.)

STAY IN YOUR LANE, STARR

THIS AINT A GAME, STARR

YOU ARE A LAME, STARR—

I AM A GANG-STAR

FAME-STAR

VAMPIRE FANG-STAR

“Dang Starr,

Is that your old lady?!

YOU MUST'VE REALLY FUCKED UP, DAWG

YOU GOT ME FUCKED UP, STARR

WHAT'S UP STARR?!

KILL YOU ON WORLDSTAR

GOLDSTAR

DON'T START

LIKE THE ONLY CAR YOU OWN STARR

WOAH, gotta go hit the road, Starr

Choke on a pole, Starr

So far

Karma hit you sitting all alone Starr

I'm not sorry!

Got a scar on my eye

And a scar on my heart!

Gasoline and a spark

Your whole hearse

Just to watch you burn.

Reverse the curse

You worthless—

Whoever her is

Deserves ya,

The only mother to you son

Is the ONE

WHO I AM

DIE NOW

I know it's been awhile but I still have flashbacks

The train was

Dragging my body

Ten whole blocks

Between two stops

Before anyone noticed I jumped

Not even the driver

It was a long ride up

It was a long ride back

It was a long way there

I took the wrong way out

I took the long way home

I took the long way gone

I took took the long way around

I took the local

I took the local

I took the local

I took the local

“Be careful of mirrors”

Haven't looked in the mirror since

Mirrored rocks and mirrored doors open.

I was hoping…

A split decusion, impulsive

I jumped before I even thought of it

Subtropics lol subtropics

Ganja White Night

Liquid Stranger

Excision

Space Laces

Space Jesus

Four Tet

Clap tone

Urban flora

Marian Hill

Blunts N Blondes

Got most of these, still need a couple more albums to start my apprenticeship in dubstep.

Lol

“Bass music”

The bellow of a faraway beast

A far cry from where I belong

I still haven't opened my eyes in a while

A flash brings me back to the time

As where I am

Gone in the run of a mile

(or Five of them)

Don't call me home

I don't wonder no more

I'm going to work

There's no knock at the door from here

Don't try to pull it apart–

it's all nonsense

Went for a walk,

I just haven't been back since

It's been years

It's been years

It's been years;

I'm still careful of years

“that's all you get”

The one love that went awry

And awkward, I walk as if

I were a toddler

Persistence, perseverance

Patience, the doctor said

Patience, I've more than a doctor

–I thought that was clever

It's been forever

It's been forever

It's been a life lived, dear

Don't you know you've so many more of them

In morse code I said

“Want to go home,

I've been under the weather”

I thought that was clever,

Hence the umbrella

I put a spell on him–

But that's irrelevant

Only time could tell

But I don't tell him anything

He put a spell on me,

I was in Hell I guess

I learned to spell again,

Put the whole world in my head

So that it would spin–

But that's irrelevant

I tend to spend all my time

Sending messages into the infinite

With no recollection of

Anything other than

What God wanted

I've got no other friends

But i've more patients than doctors

(I thought that was clever)

Persistence, perseverance

Plenty of dead friends,

and saints

Full of patience and practice,

The doctor said

“I've never done anything like this”

Which reminds me,

I should be prying my mind open

Trying to find someone that might

Finance my tripumphs

Instead of just crying and trying to find the right time

To remind myself:

I'm just as mad at my mind

For unwinding

And time,

For fear of dying–

As it seems like those around me are

Fearful

Of leaving here,

So unaware that this

Model is just one of

Hundreds of thousands

Just like it

A passage of time

So insignificant,

Just the beginning of

Something so infinite

It's just forgettable

Forgiveness

Isn't

Figurative

Unless it's

A punishment for

Punching the clock

Or

Punching your wife

Or

Giving up easily–

Rather,
It's indifferent,

I figured

The world spins

Because

Its just

In my head

SEP FROM UNISON

Hi.

…

Hello.

SEP FROM UNISON

Give me a dollar.

…

Ok.

SEP FROM UNISON

Nice.

SEP FROM UNISON

See ya later.

*disappears, but definitely not for forever*

…

…

…

Oh good, you're here.

Where is this.

Your future.

Oh?

Here, put this on.

What is this.

Put it on.

–okay?

Nice

*disappears, but probably forever*

Huh.

L E G E N D S

“The Rabbit Hole”

GARY.

…yes?

Did you take out the trash?

Not yet.

Well– DO THAT.

…okay.

GARY is a Janitor; he sometimes stares into space for long periods of time, daydreaming that he is a superstar DJ named KASKADE.

GARY.

He is not. He is a janitor.

–sorry.

It's a longshot

How I loved that backlot

Longer than time

And I don't know why, but

I've got my eyes closed, i'm

Turning back time

I'm back at Bob Hope

Direct from LaGuardia

I would take JFK to LAX

But

I've been next up

Now i'm out front

iPhone Cameras and

Nikons

I'm a Icon

“Madonna's Falafels”

JENNIFER ANNISTON

Have another fucking fallafel, I swear.

OH MY GOD.

JENNIFER ANNISTON

Go right ahead.

IS THAT A GUN

JENNIFER ANNISTON

What does it look like?

It looks like gun! *takes another bite* Unh…

[JENNIFER ANNISTON fires a shot into the roof!]

COME ON, THIS IS A RENTAL.

[MADONNA comes down the stairs in a bathrobe–a cucumber pops off of one of her eyes.]

MADONNA

WHAT IS GOING ON.

JENNIFER ANNISTON

THUNDER THIGHS IS EATING A FALAFEL.

MADONNA

*eggagerated gasp* IS THAT MY FALLAFEL.

I'M SO HUNGRY. *takes another bite*

JENNIFER ANNISTON

OH!

MADONNA

GIMMIE THAT GUN

You're a sick Individual;
And I don't care.

You make my life difficult,

And I don't care.

I'll never be good enough;

And I don't care

Now it's so obvious;

And I don't care

It's so wrong

All that I want from you;

You're all I want–

And all I've ever gotten

It's funny, huh,

How it all works out

Around the world and back

And I'm still the same as I ever was

You're all I want,

Because y're everything I'm not

False flag

I might throw in the towl

I don't mean to brag but

My mind is fowl

I live in the gutter

With less responsibility,
I might be a part animal

But–

What you see is what you get

(If you get me drunk, i'll suck your dic

Till the sun comes up,

And it sets again)

Or was it acid

My secret combination

A flower in a garden

Beg your pardon

I got a hard on

Honest

Look, regardless of what you actually want, I'm going to be the most toxic thing that ever happened to you.

Promise.

Thats about the only promise i can make.

Moe toxic than AIDS.

You have AIDS.

Anything can be arranged.

You would do that just to spite me?

I would do anything just to spite you, Dillon Francis.

This is the worst.

This is the worst, ever.

EAT THE BRATWURST.

NAAEEERR.

EAAT THE SAUSAGE.

NOOO–AAAHHH.

JUST–EAT IT.

AHHHHHHHH.

This story takes forever to tell.

Well, it's going to have to be less than forever.

For what.

WE DON'T HAVE TIME.

This version of me likes everything spicy.

That's it? That's the only difference?

–and does a lot of cocaine.

Oh. That's

Nice.

*snifs*

nice .

Hey.

Hey.

Hold this.

*leaves*

…haha.

What, dude.

I'm gonna kill you in your sleep.

You wanna know what's fucked up?

No.

I have dirty little secrets no one should know about–

–Christ–

–And people know about them.

I'm just gonna stay over here in the safezone.

What “safezone”? This dude is about to blow you off the map.

I'm making peace with this.

Here, breakfast.

What's in this.

Eggs.

What's going on.

Nothing, Skrillex. Go back to bed.

-_-

Aw. That kid is cute.

I know huh.

TYLER.

Lol. who the fuck is tyler.

I don't know.

TYLER, GET IN HERE.

TYLER is a DILLON FRANCIS.

[TYLER]

Woah.

Whaaat.

Ah. What's in a name, anyway?

That's it? That's the only difference.

Yup.

His name's “Tyler”

He's fucking perfect.

Yeah, except.

TYLER!

OH MY GOD. WHAT.

DId you ever figure out what happened to the-

No, not yet.

DEADMAU5

I don't respect you.

Aww. did you hear that?

I heart that.

deadmau5 doesn't respect me.

that's sad.

that is sad. I'm so sad.

I'd be sad.

now i'm sadmau5.

lol

So. Wait.

Mmhmm.

I'm–deadmau5.

Yes.

So that means.

WHAT IS THIS CRISIS.

I'm sorry, I'm trying. I really am.

DADMAU5.

What did you do.

I dug up a lot of pasts.

PASTS.

And brought them to the present.

Oh God. Oh Lord. Oh Jesus.

I don't understand.

Please, please stop this.

I can't. It's happened.

PART I: Skrillex left me stranded in New York.

SKRILLEX

I'M A GOD.

PART II: Revenge.

ME

Revenge!? What revenge!

I don't want revenge on Skrillex–It's SKRILLEX.

SKRILLEX

DIE MOTHERFUCKER.

*dies*

This dude has been winning for like 7 seasons straight.

Make that 8.

8 Seasons Straight.

Wait. What was that dream I had last night

I hope she remembers.

It was something important.

Don't tell mom about this.

Mom about what.

[Explosion]

OH MY GOD.

Listen, i'm gonna try to hold this motherfucker down, for as long as I can–

Do that.

But eventually–it's going to get up and eat something–or everything–including me–because, well–

[WORST DRAGON EVER]

It's a dragon, and that's what it does.

COELACANTH GROWLS

Look. I can't keep feeding this thing bananas. I'm going broke.

I'm pretty sure if you don't feed this thing bananas, whatever's going to happen is worse.

What's worse than being broke in New York City.

My God, you're right. Well.

COELACANTH GROWLS AGAIN.

That's it, buddy! NO more bananas

COELACANTH

???

NO — MORE —- BANANAS. [the box is empty]

See?

What did you do.

Nothin.

WHAT DID YOU DO.

Don't touch me.

Why are you squinting like that.

Uh. Cause I have eyes.

You have a secret.

Everyone has secrets.

YOU'RE KEEPING A SECRET FROM ME.

Alright, buddy.

Alright, that's a synchronicity: i gotta go.

Where are you going?

To get some dick.

EW.

Arguably.

That's gross.

I'm–pretty gross.

Ugh!

See ya. Or not. Whatever.

Sorry to say “I'm sorry”

So, so Sonny doesn't love me, no more

Okay

I'll jus curl up under my

Security blanket

It's a curse, sure it is

I write myself blank checks

Jim Carrey me home

(whatever that means)

Cause

I've been homeless so long

And nobody wants me

It's just a bee sting,

But don't eat honey

No worries

I'm sorry to say “i'm sorry”

So he don't love me, huh

That's awful

So what was it all for

Homework

Somehow, I just go back and forth

That's the way to move forward

Sure, it is–it's a curse

*cough* a lovely photographer,

Sorry I loved him before

But it's awful now

Take me home

(Whatever that was)

No worries

I write myself blank checks

Jim Carrey me home

(whatever that means)

Cause

I've been homeless so long

And nobody wants me

It's just a bee sting,

But don't eat honey

No worries

I've been under the radar famous

Haven't been the same sense

Same senses: six of them

Don't even know what today is

__

It's just a sex thing;

I don't want the rest of you

That she can have

Your other less-than-half

I still have a percentage

(Nonsense)

I still want to grab at your–

(Aha)

First things first,

And last things last

All of these past lives

I get the last laugh

If that's your first wife

Good luck, getting it right

God knows I tried

God knows when I'm crying,

And still doesn't like it

So much for colorblind

Automatic shades, and motorized blind

What a lovely time to find

A tie that binds

Sugar and spice

That's mild,

Compared to your wild eyes

And the trials I've

Tested thorough lik vials

(or, test tubes, right)

That's the best cube, right

The latest edition

I've had my eye on

It's just a distraction

I haven't the slightest idea

What an Ion is,

Beyond science and mathematics,

This magic campaign

A pain in my ass, Dillon Francis

That's what that is

I left that Amethyst

At your Grandma's.

What.

“To Gradmother's House We Go”

I don't think this is a good plan–

This is the plan.

–at all.

I don't wanna talk to Dillon's Grandma.

Dillon Francis.

Gross.

Listen, that's the only way.

But what if she's racist.

She's a super old white lady. Of course she's racist.

MEANWHILE, IN CROATIA

[Speaking in croatian]

Damn. This is fucked up.

I think we went back too far.

WAIT JUST A COTTON - PICKIN MINUTE.

WHO'S COTTON- PICKING?

Oh God, stop this.

My eye is in the Sky–

(My eye is in the sky)

I'm always by your side

My eye is in the sky

YOu keep asking me what I want,

Like I know the answer!

Like, I know the answer–

But like, you're not gonna like it,

I mean you might,

And I could try to divide by 5

To get the answer right,

But not tonight

I'm too busy dying

I guess i”m a dick rider.

Right,

I'm just–

A big writer,

Provided I'm onto my idol

Or icon

Drawing on dollars,

A white collar criminal

It's simple

This isn't my passion–

But it's my talent;

Whatever,

I'll have to work at it

Addition, subtraction

(Erect, or dysfunctional)

Truly poetic, but

lets keep it classy

I'm passing it on my my agent,

He'll have a laugh at it.

So it's been another ten years;

Here we are,

In the place that i built

If you're so fond of me ,

How about you follow me

Into the next life,

Onward, and into the darkness

Oh! You can see in the dark now?

You succubus!

Isolate all of us,

Bring you up high till you fall down

The irony is,

I'm not ungrateful,

I just feel as if

I've slightly earned it

(Just a little bit)

Honest to God, I'm just a mediocre talen

But at the very least, at the end of it

I can just laugh and pretend

It didn't happen

Fellas,

You ever been shit on by two women

At the same time,

(not literally–

but , ust out o f curiosity,

If i was being seriously literal,

How many of you

Would have still said yes,

By a raise of hands?

Or, lets just have all the

Supersta DJs stand up

(Every single fan would give you a hand job!)

Just remember the guy holding

The sign at Trader Joe's in the back of the store that says

“The line starts here” doesn't get paid anymore

Than the guy taking a nap in the bathroom

Or the chick who's crying on her

“Fuck it, I quit!”

–But Hailey, we needed the second income

Gotta start somewhere

“–I just need a plunger”

Better try elsewhere, bud

It'll be well into next year, before I get anywhere with this

Dillon Francis Shit.

Fuck.

I did it again

I let my obsessions slip

In the deadmau5, a false flag

In the big relay race to Skrillex

—and I can't image how backed up his inbox is

with pictures of ass and tits on

Anyday of the year,

but especially, this–

Happy Birthday, kid.

Now where's the pinata?

I oughtta wish him a bat to the head

For the shit he said

And he blasted that bathroom snapchat pic

All over the internet

It's all over the internet

Better yet,

I'm on the black market,

I just bought it for a dollar

I bet i could show you how wrong you are with just a remark

Suck my balls, fart.

That guy's a lot to handle.

Didn't I start this off with something more poetic?

I bet,

but got stuck in a mousetrap

I hope you're happy, you know

Actually,

I'm hoping it turns out tragic

Haven't you ever run out of your magic?

Wait, nobody has that.

It was.

All just.

In. Your.

Head.

Wake.

UP.

Hey kid,

What's the plan for tomorrow?

(Hopefully more falafels,

but probably not, thought)

Uh,

I gotta show up at the post office,

*facepalm*

Another Dillon Francis reference

Forget I ever had instagram

( haven't yet

So, what's the plan then?

More bacon on my bacon.

Okay, Mr. Miserable,

I get we're incompatible,

But i”m an animal,

Or at least the bi-product of something

Or somesuch

Fuck it,

I give all the way up.

Hey kid,

If i jump in front of a train

(and don't make it)

How am I gonna explain this?

I almost forgot how

When pretty girls turn evil

They get ugly

Huh

I guess I should humble up and consider us equals

huh

hey satan

I wish I could just –

Forget it

I wish i could just

Forget it

I wish i could just

Forget it

Any other kind of way,

And i could go crazy on a day like this

Okay, Dillon Francis. You have my blessing.

I–what.

You have my blessing.

For what.

You love this girl.

CONT'D

Then marry her.

Wait, do what.

So it's settled!

Wait.

You're getting married.

DILLON FRANCIS IS ENGAGED.

YES.

whaaaaat .

MAZEL TOV, MOTHERFUCKER.

Wait.

*CHAMPAGNE SHOWERS SELF*

YESSSSSSSSS.

ohmygod.

Wait, why are you so happy?

Because!

*MORE CHAMPAGNE SHOWERS*

Wow.

What's going on.

When Dillon Francis gets married, I get pizza.

What's so special about pizza.

CHEESE.

Oh, so it's cheese, you want?

Stop comin' up in my dreams, motherfucker!

These are my dreams.

Well, that's gross!

Is it.

Why are we we at McDonalds?

When else am I gonna eat at McDonalds.

You're right.

I'm always right.

Maybe that's why you're so miserable.

Yeap, pretty much.

Where's your head?

In the shop.

FLASHBACk:

Ū stabs DEADMAU5 through the head with her SPEAR.

That's it? It's just a “spear?” It doesn't have a cool name or anything like that?

No, it literally only exists like, once.

It's an ancillary rave weapon?

No, it's–it's just a spear.

(FROM THIS SCENE)

Ū is sharpening a spear, unaasumingly, when deadmau5 casually walks in.

What's that spear for?

[Deadmau5 enters unassumingly]

YAH.

Ū dramatically jabs spear into the left eye of the mau5 helmet, precisely through the center of the ‘X', and consequently through his head it sparks and glitches, before turning ‘off', as his body begins bleeding profusely, dying against the wall.

HOOOOO

YOOOOOOO

WHAT THE FUCK.

*everyone is shocked*, but Ū seems unbothered entirely, if not bored.

You killed deadmau5

Well, you asked.

I asked why you had a spear!

–And i demonstrated.

OH MY GOD.

Lol demon-strated.

YOU KILLED DEADMAU5

Don't worry, he'll be back.

Hi, yes, I'd like a large cheese pizza.

What are you doing.

Extra cheese.

Sunni.

What does it look like i'm doing.

Ordering a pizza.

Cause i'm ordering a pizza! Fuck!

Hello. Yeah, sorry.

Sunni.

WHAT. SHUT UP.

You're strictly vegan.

Well, now i'm vegetarian.

Shut up.

sunni!

What!? THE FUCK.

It's in your contract.

So is this.

What.

What. Do you want pizza?

Sunni.

Make that two pizzas.

Sunni

Yes, both extra cheese.

Ok.

Sunni.

Shut up.

Ok.

Sunni

SHUT UP.

No not you!

Apologies.

Ok. Use the intercom.

Peace.

*hangs up*

Fuck yeah. Fuck Dillon Francis.

Sunni, what are you doing?

I'm–going for a swim. In my pool.

No, I mean.

What.

You have sponsorship with like 8 Stictly Pro-Vegan companies.

I also have sponsorship with Walmart.

WAL * MART

That's not the point.

What's the point?

You're being avoidant.

I–always avoid you.

You have contracts!

That's why I avoid you.

With huge companies!

Yeah, well. Tonight I'm having pizza in my hot tub.

You can't just.

Trust me, Maybel.

IT's-

I have another contract that I promise, overrides any other contract. Hands down.

What's this got to do with Dillon Francis.

NOTHIN.

*phone rings*

YO.

Ugh.

Yeah, Come over.

Sunni!

I ordered pizza.

[later, in the hot tub]

Nevermind, next scene!

Ah NO!

What!

(Don't worry, I know how it goes.)

“What do you want?” It's as if the entire universe was asking in tandem, in every way it could, what I really wanted–almost forcing me to recollect: what did I actually want?

WHAT DO YOU WANT?!

Well, for the most part, I wanted to live.

Okay, you're alive.

No, I promise, i'm dead as fuck.

Well, if i'm dead, then, it doesn't really matter if I

SHUT UP.

What?

JUST SHUT UP.

Uhm.

UGH.

Before KA has even realized, KU has disappeared entirely. He is left in the expanse of the outer darkness alone–and perhaps, even, for the first time in his existence–afraid.

A look of worry and fear reflect in his eyes, ever growing darker by the fading light of the distant cosmos as he stands at once still in the enclave of nonexistence.

TO BE CONTINUED

Honestly, though–

I just wanna get like, really hot, and like

Fuck a bunch of good looking white dues

I mean, really good looking

Smart ones

Probably do that,

eat a bunch of whole, healthy foods

Cook more healthy shit

Bake pies

Fuck some more

–and forget I ever even tried to make music.

Lol

And maybe while i'm doing that I can popo out a couple kids

Make sure the one i've got doesn't have to weigh like 500 pounds,

Publish some of my books,

Play video games

And forget about what a DJ is or what they do

Unless I occasionally show up to a festival

To get shitfaced

And be really hot,

Like I never got to be in my teens,

Or in my 20's

–But on the other hand,

If i can't do any of that–

I don't know,

not exactly live my hopes and dreams,

cause , you know–

Everything i've just described in the above parenthetical

Isn't nesseicarily me living my dreams,

Or even

“Living my best life”

Cause if i'm living my best iife

I'm headlining EDC,

(Before getting shitfaced),

And,

I don't know,

Not maybe fucking like an entire football team of good looking hite dudes

–I mean really good looking–

Smart ones–

But like, just one–

Whose hopes and dreams align with mine, and maybe
I don't know,

Isn't a nightmare?

But that's pushing it.

Taht's wild to think about:

Me living my best life actually is pursuing all of my passions

One of which is music

(Fucking shoot me)

and while I don't nessecarily even have a passion in literature–

Which is, honestly,

More, like,

Just a natural talent,

For example,

How,

Even after running 2 miles on the treadmill,

Lifting what's around apparently ‘135',

(according to some stranger at the gym)

And working out to my own mixtape–

Not once, but twice–

Because i hadn't heard it in so long that I had actually forgotten

How goog it was;

And, it was so good,

I couldn't actually believe it–

Like, at all–

So instead of listening to another mixtape,

I just listened to it again to confirm

(With myself)

“Damn, that was good”

Cause it was–

Only to come back to this giant,

Piece of shit,

Hell hole of a hotel

To find that whatever satanic demon seems to have possessed m roommate

Actually has the ability to make me want to kill myself
For the first time in weeks.

So i think about it,

After not feeling an ounce of suicidal ideation

In the amount of time it's taken to turn a

15 minute mile

Into a ten minute mile,

A ten minute mile into an

Eight Minute Mile,

And An Eight minute mile into

Two eight minute miles,

Nonstop, by the way,

Which isn't much by the standards of the people who grew up on

Whole foods diet and taking vitamins that

Didn't look like

Flinstones and taste like sweettarts

Cause lets face it:

That's sweet tarts, right?

–but it is impressive to me

I impressed myself;

I cured 30 years of trauma and depression by eating exclusively at

Whole Foods Market

And going to the gym every day

Even if its for 5 minutes

Every Single Day

With the exception of–

You know

When my roomate's depression gets so bad

It becomes contagious, and exhausting to the point that

I can only listen to the 48 laws of power on repeat

So many times

And can't help on my life to think about her

When it gets to the law that states

That you can die of other people's misery.

Cause you can,

And I almost did,

So i consider myself, these days

to be more dead than alive, or to have never lived

Cause i've got

Skrillex on a world tour dancing around in one side of my brain and,

deadmau5 swinging his dick around somewhere in my subconcious

–and of course, Dillon Francis somewhere between my funny bone

And my frontal lobe wreaking more havoc on my psyche than any man should have the ability to,

but -

Again,

I've come so far

And fought so hard just

Trying to live

or at least

Trying to catch up

To the caucasians

And sometimes, but rarely

asians and other ethnics that

actually fit in;

and were born alive rather than dead

In bodies and with minds that functioned

Maybe not perfectly,

But well enough to socialize

or capitalize on whatever strengths and talents they were given

Not to complain

(Again)

But just to reiterate,
I was born with gifts and talents,

But, doubling back

To the 48 Laws

I learned all of them from my mom

Before I turned one

And the way I read the book was

Pretty much just

A backwards regression,

Realizing that having a mother

With so much trauma and depression

Might effect everything

And be the difference between

Being an athlete, a superstar musician

Or any other reason I abandoned Instagram;

Cause i don't like the algorithm reminding me

Of how fat I am

Or that I'm black

Or how much i've failed

Or of all the things I could but can't do

Because i'm still playing catch up to Karen

Or whatever you wanna call her

We all have names, but

It's possible that

We've been lost

In all the comparison to one another

Because in all this time

Woman to woman and

Man to man

Nobody really knows what the fuck it is they really want.

So what do I want?

Fuck it,

I want a yacht,

With deadmau5, Skrillex, and Dillon Francis on it

Just so i can throw them off

and ride off into the sunset

So i can go preform at some awesome Insomniac event

Where i'll fall in love with everybody in the front row

–well, maybe, not all of them

but a lot,

Or maybe I just want their bodies

I don't know

The only difference between love and lust comes

From motherhood;

So where's my son fit in to all of this?

Or i should just

Leave him in the dust, with his father

Who I often think of

Cause the raised scar he left me

Crosses my tongue every other word?

Sure. Whatever.

It's just more to write about,

But I might want less to write about cause

I've been studying other authors

And the shotguns that they loved enough to swallow

–But honesty, i've been working out so hard

It's hard to want to off myself

Till I come to this hotel

Where my roommate just–

Doesn't sti will with me

And doesn't sit still at all

—which is crazy to think

That in all this narcissism i've developed

I still have enough empathy

That her anxiety makes me

Feel the need to eat, or if I haven't

So empty I coud vomit

And i thought i was making it up, but

As it turned out,

Beautiful women can't be tested

And it seems she's probably still beautiful

To the many men

that would love to have

a perfect girl

To bend to his will;

But really, It's almost as if

with every evil thing she's done

someone uglier replaces the girl I first saw

With each remark

Of course, I'm sure it's all for something

But i wanted more for us to get along

Than to have a room alone

Where i could tell this story;

Or write my albums

Or wipe the slate clean

I'm thinking of just

Starting over

Of course, sixteen pages deep

I find it hard to believe

It really just comes naturally

And quite automatic

That it's almost paranormal

What do I want?

A warm body

That won't hurt me

a home of my own

A couple of dogs –

Here it goes again

Fuck Dillon Francis

I want a life so well fucking lived

And well accomplished that

It doesn't even matter,

The Festival Project, or anything in it

Fuck, I just want to be happy

What if i cured 30 years of depression

Eating Whole Foods Market

and working out, without

Therapy,

Using google documents and

Dance music as an outlet?

Wouldn't you be proud?

Or maybe I could get offed for that.

I don't know..

Maybe what's good for the goose is good for the gander

The password was flagship

Getting abstract and poetic again,

Picking up pennies

bending my enemies into my empathy,

Sweltering, sweating regrets on my epitaphs

Ugh

The best of the best,

A decade has passed

I'm switching my cadences,

Just in case somebody reads this crap

Blissful awareness,

I shouldn't be scares of it

Clandestine palaces crash,

Shattered by amethyst

Man, fuck dillon francis

and his happy ass,

always had it,

perfectly privleged

caucasian interchangeable

dangerous engagement of a

girlfriend .

Yeah, fuck both of them.

Again, if you're taking it literal–

Fuck it,

They're both fucking beautiful.

I'll just be

USeful, or something.

Should probably brush up my resume–

Interesting, isn't it?

Haven't thought of jumping in front of a train

before neyla went crazy,

But heyl

I made it up.

We can pretend we're individuals

But i live in a collective consciousness,

Whoever's in ignorant bliss of this

I consider lucky, negligent, and unconscious

But that's just be being pompous.

I'm half a white supremacist, anyway

Conservative, straight up

But lately, I hate the whole game game I made up

But hey,

At least there's deadmau5.

Oh yeah, that's what I want.

I want to be like deadmau5.

I want a whole house filled with synthesiszers

A custom sound system

and a hot wife;

A big brain,

A fan base,

And a nice body;

I want a whole lot of

Flying around,

and everybody loving me;

And loving every body

At every party

Amen

Yeah, that's what I want.

I want to be a rockstar;

I want a daughter with Skrillex

And six encores.

I want a horse drawn carriage;

An all-star wedding,

and a Tesla;

I want my chest done so damn big,

I need a reduction.

Better stay humble.

For better, or worse, you know.

If it was a curse,

I'd probably be worse off,

Than all who have wronged me–

It never lasts long,

It's all temporary,

Nobody loves me–

I'm just a pathological insomniac

Call me a

Devil, I'll try to find him–

A vegan light skin, but in the eyes

I'd probably find him

A cut above it all,

I'm just in awe we've never talked,

But i'm just like you

A stone against a wall,

I'd be a shamed to call my father

Suicidal

But that's where my mind goes

When there's no one

And my own son

Doesn't know me

But I only know

What love is

Cause i held him

In my arms

the very moment

He was born

So

What do I want?

I want him to know?

I'll always love him

No matter where I go

And I'd rather be homeless

Than no one

In my own home

Next to his father

What do I want?

I want him to go to school

And never worry

if he''ll be able to catch up.

What do I want?

I want a family,

But that can't heppen

Cause nobody loves me

What do I want?

I want to see Satan in his own body;

Instead of taking the ones around me

And playing with them

Since he wants to follow me

What do I want?

A lot of money

Said everybody.

What do I want?

A son and a daughter–

that won't die before me.

What do I want?

I want someone else to recite this anomaly of poetry with, or without me.

What do I want?

I want to google the definition of ‘pithy”

Cause it's been circling incessantly inside my head

Like depression hasn't;

But my roomate has it

And i'm not trying to catch it

Fucking toxic obnoxious

Whatever, forget it

SUCCUBUS.

Yeah, we know what that is.

pith·y

/ˈpiTHē/

adjective

1.

(of language or style) concise and forcefully expressive.

2.

(of a fruit or plant) containing much pith.

Nice.

Yeah well.

This whole thing is opening my third eye,

To how guys see it.

It doesn't make sense

To give consent,

And then renig it;

This isn't sex

But if it was,

Why would you mess with his head like that?

And if it was

If you wanna lay in bed and get fat, that's fine

But get the fuck out of here with that

I can't

So

What do I want?

To keep counting my blessings that I got healthy

What do I want?

I want psychology to catch up to my understanding.

What do i want?

Honestly, i just want my own something

What do I want?

To balance the toxicity, I guess

Everybody has choices

And mine is–

I count my blessings, just to stay blessed

I don't want anything from anybody.

But i don't say don't cause that negates negativity, entirely .

Perhaps, soe reverse psychology,

But if I go back to school

I'll be bored

(and really horny)

If i go back to school,

I'll owe even more money!

If i go back to school

I'll do music and not psychology.

If i go back to school,

I'll have professors younger than me.

If i go back to school

I'll drown in the toxicity;

The new generation's vaping, hating themselves

canceling everything:
everyone's a baby rapist

But you can't say it

or isolate them

cause tolerating even the most

Unsavory behavior is

fuck , i lost it.

What happened.

Idk. eminem's cadence. It had an ‘a'

Lets see. fuck .

To tolerate sunsavory behavior is worth debating,

Nope, i lost it

You thnk so

Idk if i think about it too much it'll lose its

what

Soul.

What. you have one of those?

Yeah.

Dang. That's cool.

Everyone has one

(that's not true)

*shrugs* I don't.

What.

I used to.

What?!

I sold it.

What.

To the devil.

Now i'm famous.

*shrugs, super satisfied*

…How'd you get famous?

…I woke up like this.

*nods, unquestioning*

I still remember the taste of bong water like it was yesterday.

I guess i'd consider bondage, for the right boytoy.

So what do you want?

I want to stop writing, but it's still early.

What do you want?

I want more coffee, and less yawning.

What do you want?

I want God to be happy, Cause i personified her

And she's angry I ruined my body by eating.

Perceivably.

The positives:

Now I knw Sweet Chili Doritos are probably vegan.

The positives:

Now I know she's programmed by the government and/or susceptible to possession by satan, or a combination of both things–assuming one is not the other, as not astonishingly, the toxicity it would take to program one person to torture another is alarmingly evil;

But Karma comes to those who intentionally hurt others, you know–

I've been brushing up on Kabbalah

It seems to attempt to provoke, but

I'd rather do nothing but stall

Perhaps i've adapted habits

Become pathological, or

What have you

At least I know that condition

comes from trauma

Not that i'm

Not responsible

I just stoped giving a fuck

If everything i do is wrong

And i'm the problem

Why do i keep waking up, then?

What do you want?

I want Whole Foods Market to sponsor me.

What do you want?

I want Equinox Fitness seven days a week.

What do you want?

I want to raise smart and capable children.

What do you want?

I want to forget Dillon Francis ever existed

I want Skrillex to stop being Skrillex

I want synthesizers and acoustic instruments in my top floor apartment

In manhattan, and

My ex husband to pay back

All of the money I paid him

But that's pushing it.

I want everything.

I want a world tour

I want to do more with my life than just

Sit here

And write about it

I want to be wanted and loved

Not by everybody

But perhaps

Just a loyal fanbase

A few hundred thousand

Maybe a million

Considering there are 8 billion people on the planet and

My talent is condensed and limited by

The language barrier

I want Bearr to be anywhere he feels happier

I want people to know that I tried my best, i”m not lazy

I want people to know the rest of the story

Why i'm crazy

How I made it all up–

And they helped me

How we all decided on the world we're in together

And the only way to get to heaven is to remember.

Kx5

…I remember.

MAN, SHUT THE FUCK

–

UP.

My documents is glitching

Must be witchcraft

(Or Glitchcraft, my other alias)

As it's getting close to Christmas

*hoodness*

Niggas, man.

My butt keeps getting bigger, man

Suit up for the sermon

I haven't gone frgun surfin as Sunni

Since SupaSunday survs.

Ahem.

Fuck Starr Robert's the wifebeater—

You wanna ride on your ex wife'a fame:

Well here it is,

That's what your name is:

Starr Michael Roberts, The Wifebeater

Comma and all

And fuck Mike Roberts Sr

For beating your mother—

(Cause you need her.)

What goes around comes around

With these words, I defeat you

Can't afford feed you;

So here go the demons

Try eating em.

I try meeting men

Looking lean and thin,

But that's besides the point—

Anoint myself in oil,

Cause what it boils down to is

I'll spoil my kid

However I see fit

Using the music I do

Cause you couldn't

Enough of that

I get reminded of the past daily,

It's a regression of Chanpion sweaters

Dirty white Nikes

And train riders with anxiety

Sitting by me

That knee shaking thing,

And coughing

“He must hate me”,

I think

Cause he never could have loved me

To put a curse on

Poor son

Growing up on McDonald's and hot pockets

—but I got nothin

My father ain't got a lawyer

So I'm undercover

Till supacree comes back

To smoke you

Keep smoking

You see me on TV

You don't know me

I don't owe nobody nothing

And feeding informants

Father for the punishments and judgements

Try punching a light skin

You like this?

It's not lyrics I write

//return to sender//

Just like this

Get out of my face

With the crazy shit!

You made me do this,

Fuck it, I'll keep pressing the red button then,

Just for the record,

I don't need medical attention

Unless it's part of the decision to let me in

To an Ivy legume college

On scholarship

So check to complex rhymes, man

Check out the complex

I'm not gonna fight over a man,

*laughs*

That's just madness and Satanic,

I'm way past hate and angst;

Please!

The “Prince of Peace”

Is reading this

Vengeful and revenge seeking

Cause I promise

I'm not confrontational,

Multi-national linguist,

Entertainer of languages,

Maker of sandwhiches,

And handsome Skrillexes.

I riddle this nigga for dinner;

For pleasure and other reasons,

The change of the seasons is over

It's cold as fuck

Like my heart is

I'm an artist

What the fuck do you want

Been made to suffer too long

*coughs*

Cover your mouth you programmable posessivle depressive sons of bitches—

Whoever did this is gonna get it

(Unless it's the government)

Crumbling under itself for what it did l

To the inhabitants of the Divided Fakes of

unbearable unaffordable divorced mothers and fathers,

Sisters and brothers unrecognizable to each other anymore

Over fucking currency—

I'm done with earth!

If all you want is money to buy stuff

Keep struggling and suffering

Of love is gone

Then so is time

And so is I am

I am I

You wanna kill me?!

Now you die.

Return to sender.

Wife eating little puert ass bitch.

Can't forgive someone who never apologized

Cause the statute of limitations isn't up

I'm not giving up,

I love my son;

I'll send the aliens to pick him up

—A Rendevous;

A Coup d'état,

An “I love You” from afar,

Though I'm lost,

Might not come back around,

Might be one, might be dos

Might be God or just

The other one

For the love of money

Here's a double dose of

“Shut the fuck up”

With a spoonful of sugar,

From the Wrong Mary Poppins

Where it pops off,

In the long run.

Bro there has better be a better drop after a monologue like that or I'm gonna be mad at myself for staring into space.

(There wasn't.)

STAY IN YOUR LANE, STARR

THIS AINT A GAME, STARR

YOU ARE A LAME, STARR—

I AM A GANG-STAR

FAME-STAR

VAMPIRE FANG-STAR

“Dang Starr,

Is that your old lady?!

YOU MUST'VE REALLY FUCKED UP, DAWG

YOU GOT ME FUCKED UP, STARR

WHAT'S UP STARR?!

KILL YOU ON WORLDSTAR

GOLDSTAR

DON'T START

LIKE THE ONLY CAR YOU OWN STARR

WOAH, gotta go hit the road, Starr

Choke on a pole, Starr

So far

Karma hit you sitting all alone Starr

I'm not sorry!

Got a scar on my eye

And a scar on my heart!

Gasoline and a spark

Your whole hearse

Just to watch you burn.

Reverse the curse

You worthless—

Whoever her is

Deserves ya,

The only mother to you son

Is the ONE

WHO I AM

DIE NOW

I know it's been awhile but I still have flashbacks

The train was

Dragging my body

Ten whole blocks

Between two stops

Before anyone noticed I jumped

Not even the driver

It was a long ride up

It was a long ride back

It was a long way there

I took the wrong way out

I took the long way home

I took the long way gone

I took took the long way around

I took the local

I took the local

I took the local

I took the local

“Be careful of mirrors”

Haven't looked in the mirror since

Mirrored rocks and mirrored doors open.

I was hoping…

A split decusion, impulsive

I jumped before I even thought of it

Subtropics lol subtropics

Ganja White Night

Liquid Stranger

Excision

Space Laces

Space Jesus

Four Tet

Clap tone

Urban flora

Marian Hill

Blunts N Blondes

Got most of these, still need a couple more albums to start my apprenticeship in dubstep.

Lol

“Bass music”

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Idc if I'm an NPC at least I'm not trying to kill people by using weak and immoral individuals susceptible control and possession to attack using psychological terrorism.

But whatever.

What goes around comes around.

All this war that being fought is being fought on stolen sacred land on the graves of the bloodshed of hundreds of thousands.

Cough at me all you want

Cut me off in the street—

Keep sending people to infiltrate my creative spaces and sacred places—

I'm not worried.

Karma Comes Around

-X.

ALERT: severe weather warnings for every day famous individuals

I guess I'm everybody's famous,

New day, same shit

I kinda hate this

Get the duck out my face

With the fake shit

I get it though

I'm an original indigo,

Nobody really knows me;

I stay in my lonely for the whole show,

Then go alone

Show me something I don't know

Programmed indidivulas with iPhones

Incentive awards,

Remote controlled coughers,

Mark my words,

Whatever ya wrong with you

Don't rub off on me,

But it comes back on you

To haunt you duck Starr the wifebeater

And his father

Fuck the Roberts

And all the evil shamans

Returning Coughs Karma

I'm a large scale shop of horrors

Floor of the fluer de flor

Or flora,

Either or, uh

I like your aura

For the hour

Or four,

Plus some

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

Ugh I have to keep doing this dumb protection spell

I guess this dude wanted me dead so he can't go to jail

But for sure there's hell for em—

A solemn prayer to the ones that can't protect themselves

Shout out to my love of all loves

Shout out to the son of all Suns.

//return all hexes curses and demons to sender//>>return negative energy to sender>>return bear claw hex to Starr Michael Roberts>>return Phoenixx hair hex wifebeater curse >>karma effect to Michael John Roberts>>return negative energy to sender>>//aura protection//health regeneration//protection helm>>return curse to sender>>protect>>carrier>>supacree>>carrier>>Cree Dahavalynn>>protect carrier>> Sunni Blū>>return curses and hexes to sender>>return death curses to sender>> >>return coughs to sender// protext//protect recipient of coughing curse>>protect carrier><

Now, I found all of them irresistible—

But it seemed as though Sonny was playing with my mind, and as if I could ever just narrow it down to only him again as I had in the past might not only prove impossible, but devastating. As I tried my hardest to whittle down my figure into what seemed like nothing, the closer to celebrity size I drew myself in my daily gym routine and nutrition regimen, it still seemed wrong to try to even imagine, that even if he was perhaps my eldest counterpart and most compatible soulmate, that we would align at all anytime soon unless I were perhaps able to strip myself of any reminence of my old life—which of course included the leftover skin and stretch marks, the scars of bearing another man's children, which of course, though I had done well in the way of removing as much ugly as there was possible, was at the very worst and at best probably humiliating to even consider, the severity of my wit and talent aside, the emergence of a rare genius disregarded; I was used goods, and would probably have to be someone else entirely to even get along well in his circle of perfect-bodied and presitgious, elitist women—most of whom, as his own fan base had gathered, were ‘beautiful and intelligent', and with him he kept himself constantly guarded with and surrounded by— petite, gorgeous, rich and talented women, probably for all I knew who were all just as interested in bearing his children as I was—and had been, without at first knowing so—but in the years I had spend battling the innate and unweilding attachment through whatever explicit soul bonding we seemed to share—and we were, in fact, bound to each other in some kind of way, undoubtedly and unrelentlesly, I had learned what with Sonny had come with the territory of Skrillex—and it was, indeed—a lot of territory; territory, property, holdings, and whatever else you wanted to call absolute dominance and overriding ownership in an industry which I had only so recently become familiar with, and had learned that whether or not I wanted, I would end up dealing with him in his own realm in one way or another, more than probably along with the soul-stealing, mind numbing collection of competitive and ruthless women he seemed to need surrounding him at all times.

Then, of course, there was the fact that I had deeply considered Dillon at the heart of it all for a brief moment, that is, before he had hinted and and then made a point to mention his girlfriend—at which point I had realized that the work accomplished within the project, and especially that which was in his namesake, was simply business, again, to not quite my demise and never to my detriment, the emotional pull of the wrath I had faced in mourning a cry to the universe to send an army of spiritual warriors and angles the likes of which I had never seen—the helping hands of Anandar, who though a self stated advocate of ‘The Devil' had also groomed my once-lost ability to create on a whim, and of course, a frenzy of Dillon Francis look-alikes that seemed to exist if only to remind me of my bizzare and intense, undying sexual attraction to the man, despite his supposed status as taken or ‘off-market', and though I had learned in various ways to cope with the loss or mourn what might have been, to grieve even just the budding friendship which had become of the very begginings of it all, Dillon seemed sly and straightforward in a way that still hinted at something else—and however in my own obedience to my moral laws of monogamy, respecting one's own self and others in the way that there could never be more than business between the two of us, there was also there an attachment to my soul, and in an ascended sense, a higher purpose for what too, had happened with Dillon Francis—and though there may not have been such an obvious slew of women at his feet at any given time, it was almost uncannily more heartbreaking that I knew there were just as many beautiful, perfect women in line to be the mother of his children—more the marrying type, precisely by Hollywood and the white Caucasian standards, especially held by those of Californian men, all of which he was—that is,— the marrying type, Caucasian, and Californian, all of which fit my ideal genetically-driven standards, however with a personality which suited mine (almost too well,) a music portfolio that exhibited genius in itself despite its critical appeal, and the ability to make me laugh in even just the mildest thought form, it seemed that the possibility that o could love this man had bloomed, and then folded just as quickly—something like a night flower; in the light to was clear to see all the reasons someone like myself could never be suited for such a man, especially to marry and raise his children—by anyone's standards, and that I, again, would have to become an entirely other person to do so—and perhaps, in time, I would—become enough of another person; however, still myself, and with the grips of age upon all of us, I settled into the knowing that a man like Dillon Francis would by now have found a perfect thorough-bread white women with whom to share his life with—in the way of a smart businessman, which I also knew he was. Perfect, either way, I was still somehow remarkably thankful to his parents for having brought him into the world, in which doing so they had colored my own with such warmth and smiles that I could not ignore.

i had realized for some time that my own predisposition to designer children had become a prominent factor in my own mounting attraction; it appeared as though surely the father to my future children was indeed white, and thiugh looked down upon by the blacks for being so inconsiderate as yo even be attracted to ‘my own kind', I saw it as just that—‘my own kind, in that I could not so much be attracted to dark skinned men as I could be attracted to anyone in my own family—brothers, cousins, etc., and in my own mind it even felt wrong and strange to consider that my future children would be passed the considerable amount of genetic trauma and all the disadvantages that came with it—not to mention the cruelty and trauma in the waking life I had experienced with nearly every black man I had ever known, and it seemed almost as if all men of color were meant to be friends and not partners within this waking world—sexual partners, at least—as I wasn't by the hurt I had experienced yet intrinsically racist and afraid; in business, and of course, especially in music, I had become used to being classified by race and had become so familiar with the inner workings of the colored world and colored culture through music—of course, in a world where the rappers and producers of the hip-hop world never wanted to just be friends, or simply work on projects fluidly, without some kind of innuendo or connotation—which I had years ago, of course realized, could have skyrocketed me to success, playing this sort of game; using my sexuality and sensibility for studio time, or dating around in the circles of mini-stardom that came with the movement of money from the streets; it was simple to see and easy to know that most rappers came into money in other ways in order to afford studio time, producers, and pieces of the limelight, and with that, came the expectation that the women of the industry were typically expected to succumb to the misogynistic standards represented in colored culture; it had become apparent in the world of music, but especially in hip hop and R&B music culture, that women were seen as objects, possessions, and decorations—all of which was devastating to myself, of course, a semi-androgynous non-bianary post-racial indigent indigenous-American with more of a mind for integration and evolution than materialism and manipulation; all this to say, I simply wasn't fit to be controlled and contorted by the color-coded system within the hip-hop industry, and in which ways never considered myself ‘black' or ‘black enough' without some forceful habit forming, or movement within the system I had of course out of sheer dissemblance been sorted into.

Then, I wasn't typically willing to give up on any of my ideals, and of course had set my sights on being the perfect woman for whatever future husband and father to my future children would have me; I had missed out on the Hollywood life by a long shot and it would literally take a miracle to make me into a star; something like Anandar, but with a lot more money and power to fix all that was broken with my body, my heart, and my mind to match the charisma and talent I knew that I had—and I knew that I did have it. I knew that with a perfect body I would have already been given the opportunity to be signed somewhere, probably a major label like I had wanted—because with the talent that I already did have to match a perfect body, I was marketable. I knew that given the right clothes, nails, and hairstyles I would become a magnet for attraction, as even know, roaming the streets of New York City in ragged harem pants and old Chuck Taylors, I still had a sense of undying magnetism about me in my presence alone; a stature which dominated and demanded respect from those with the right eyesight and mind frame to see past my worn and haggard appearance and into the untapped plethora of symphonies and sonic alchemism which had been so divinely gifted, the thing which I kept sacred and cherished most in myself—and I did love myself, actually, probably so much so that the hatred and darkness of the world which seemed to need me to end myself continued to follow me in the form of what one might call the devil, if one believed in such—the typically obese or otherwise empty, malleable broken and soulless bodies possessed by which I had named ‘the coughing demon', which seemed some kind of demonic or satanic force with no other aim than to have me dead at all.

I was, in fact, some sort of genius—not of course that it meant anything to anyone probably besides my mother, and whatever lover could see past my obvious faults—a body which had been tormented and stretched, scarred by trauma, a seven year old son with whom his father I had forcibly become estranged from due to violence—who may have even gone far enough as to have me hunted by this coughing demon so that I may never know my very own son— and the rest of the baggage that came with being a broken soul, once homeless, with skin dark enough to be prone to racism and without the perfect body to make up for it; as, one thing I had noticed is that the men of my desire often could see past color—so long as the body which was painted in any way brown was perfect enough to suit him.

I knew I needed to Fonda way to pay for that surgery, to remove the damage which had been done to my body in the 30 years I had spent on earth, most of which I had spent fighting in some way for freedom, and best of all love—which to now, only my sons had truly given me; perhaps I could take a lesson from Kayla Lauren after all—the reformed pornstar and personal trainer —

I hated personal training with a bloody passion, but making enough money for that kind of surgery on a DJ's salary seemed impossible, and probably was. It would take almost no time at all to become certified, and after all, under all that excess skin and ugly trauma was the body I had wanted and needed all along, to attract someone like Sonny. The moment had gone, though—and all of my wants and thoughts were in the wash; I had almost taken the long route of possible love—and it was the longest road at all to have gone from Sonny, to Dillon, to Joel with nothing more than a plethora of songs and all that I had ever wanted to become; In fact, all I had ever really wanted was love—but at this point, the point of no return, I realized that there was no inconceivable way that that love would come from the top, especially at the bottom— and now, from the confines of a hotel room full of broken and lost souls, Grammy season upon us with the nomination for the Best Dance album or whatever it was seeming to come from the very bottom of my own misguided heart, I learned my lessons entirely wel—to let go, and to learn from everything I had gathered, to make a list of everything I had ever wanted, material or not, and to pay close attention to every song and album drop —to pull the pieces of The Festival Project together for my own good, and forget about love. There was no love in music business, just music—and perhaps the only father to my children was the father to my son, who I had brighter forgotten nor sacrificed in exchanged for whatever arrangement was expected; that with the demonic howling of racing cars and the satanic whooping coughs of the empty bodies which surrounded me at all times had indeed trapped me in this loveless region of Hell for no purpose other than being what I was— a ‘black woman', by society's standards, despite my own thoughts on the subject—and the subject simply was; Love. There was no reason to stay in a world without Love, and instead based on money, and so it was settled that though serving my purpose, whatever it was, my time became shorter with every cough—that I would much rather have love than money—and it almost seemed that one would not come without the other.

—Tales of a superstar DJ

[Return all RED negative energy back to sender—

Return red energy to sender

Return negative energy to sender;

Return all negative m energy to sender m

return red to sender]

[When it]

Turns out,

The bottom of your heart

Was the tip of the Ice Berg

And the whole ship has [s]unk[en],

[&] I[t]'s probably ice cold

At the bottom of the ocean;

I'll tell you where i'm from

Why,

I'll tell you anything for

About one dollar

Turns out,

I've already got one eye on you;

One eye'd sad heart

I should probably roll out my art on you

[I probably should not]

One man bought a kiss,

Another, a whole night from her–

One man bought a whole farm

The other, a Whole Foods Market

–and you can't even franchise those

Amazon's got a monopoly

We were playing for corners of earth,

All i got was some kandi,

Subscriptions to candidly,

Actually,

I really liked the tree trial

(I think i'll wait a week, sorry)

When it turns out

The world that you wanted

Was actually hours already

The dollar you got

Was also borrowed

And the money they wanted and got

Was just actually stolen from someone else

They bought all the food up

And sold it for profits

I promise this avocado

Once costs nothing at all

But you wanted that car for your daughter

She's got a mercedes and don't even drive it

My mom, on my honor

Of all the garages in Lost Lands,

I promise the owner of it was

The first to go last,

And the last to come home

Now he's on his own alter

And also the worshiper;

How do you go back?

Oh, you don't

Oh you don't

Oh, you don't wanna know that

But i was of course,

All of your rock bottoms

It's bottoms and tops, and

We don't let the top fall over,

We're counting up crumbs

And this muffin costs $24 dollars

Pour a whole bottle of coconut water out on the sidewalks

For the dead homies

Not dead in the general sense

But just in the head, the heart,

And the soul

The homeless are happier at McDonalds

Than asking at crossroads and crosswalks

For dollars I'd rather spend elsewhere

I'll avoid the power struggle at operations

for about 18 dollars and 56 sense

(Please, keep the pennies)

I'm feeling around in my 6th sense that there's

Something indecent, or decadent

Whichever it is

Cause i'm better of with the memory of it

Than actually dragging it in.

–I'm a cat again.

Ouch.

Shut up.

It HURTS.

Of course it hurts, you just had heart surgery without any anistetics.

YEah, but to be fair–that was a lot of acid.

Yes, but lucily* for you–

–or, for him–

Lucily for us, there's no lethal amount of acid.

–Ouch–

–Shut up.

That we know of.

No, not the google documents!

GET IN THE HOLE.

Hm.

What.

Blood Shower

All along the watch tower

Do you feel good?

Do you?

Do you feel bad about this.

I do. I feel bad about this.

I forgot to tell you–

I should probably let you know that I just want to

MAN, FUCK THIS DUDE.

MA.

WAHT.

IT'S ON.

WHAt.

THE SHOW IS ON.

THEWHAT.

THE–

*suddenly self aware*

…I gotta get out of Boston.

What, first this was about war, now it's about bird people?

It's about a war WITH the bird people.

I should sleep.

Hahaha. No.

This isn't funny anymore.

At least it's over.

MA–

Oh, it's far from over.

Yo, i'm going through some crazy shit right now.

Spur of the moment

I'd never thought of it;

This is gonna take forever.

I don't have the patience

To even write this

I just want french fries right now

But been up for two days with no gym and

I'm on a diet.

GUAC TIME.

No, no burritos.

GUAC TIME.

Oh shit, this is getting real as fuck .

NOw i see it three ways.

I love it.

I hate it.

HEY, LET ME OUT.

GET BACK IN YOUR HOLE, SKRILLEX.

I'M DILLON FRANCIS.

IN THE HOLE.

Check it out.

Huh.

It's another DJ.

*agrees*

Should we pick him up.

WEll, the good news is: I found your friend.

Oh, that's good.

The bad news is: He's dead.

Oh, that–'s … nice.

Yeah. It is.

Uh. Kaskade.

Yeah.

We gotta find Ryan.

Why. What's up?

You're freaking me out.

Why. What's up.

Nothing

IS it my eyes?

I–

*wild ass eyes*

Yeah, it's probably that.

Fuck dude, what did you do to deadmau5.

NOTHIN.

He's not the same.

What the fuck is that.

Holy shit I jus timejumped

Where the fuck are you going.

How the fuck could this happen?!

It COULDN'T.

Well, that's it then.

*shrugs*

Well, I guess we're just gonna have to go dig up Dillon Francis.

I guess so.

Do you think he's still alive.

Like, probably not–

Maybe…

No, probably not

@prodbywar& @Halmadeit

This amazon order took me nine hours

Alexa, I think i should fire her

Like a arm

I don't leave at night without armor

Don't make me a martyr

Your mom will be proud of us all

If i make it outta here

And i'll look after her

Got the whole block coming up on my heels as I walk

Wtf is it…

Idk dude.

Is it speeding up?

I…i think so.

There's no way this is 140

IT's 140.

It's 140 .

There's no way.

Yes way.

Nah huh.

Let me see.

No.

Let me at the decks.

Let me at the decks.

NO.

YO LET ME AT THE DECKS.

You want deks.

Yes.

I got deks.

Really.

yeus .

I never listened to it like this

In ableton

I read serato, synesthesia and rekordbox

I talk a lot,

I'm like a human music box

I walk a lot

I run my mouth a mile a minute

(faster than i run around the track reciting rap words)

Like they're passwords.

Oh, I could do this forever..

I wish i had i microphone right now

And was all alone

With the lights off

Lying on the floor

I'd be lying if i said I could afford you

Just to fornicate

But may consider playing with a foreigner

If you're all for her

I'm unnerved, you know

Cause i've been up so long

My monster likes to play with boys and

Make the bass go down below where

Nobody does anymore

Once I get a hold of things

Or the hang of it

You've got another hot ones on your hands

I've another record under my belt

Or in my roster,

Whatever you'd call it

But now I've got no time to bark about

Wanting a dog and a daughter

But none of the responsibility or

Going through all the trouble to find her a father

I'm still holding a fart in.

Reaally–cause–it's been a really long time.

WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT A LONG TIME, JIMMY FALLON??

Um a lot! You literally just saw me make the journey all the way up from nothing.

I am nothing

EXACTLY.

I don't have time to fight with you Jiimmy Fallon.

I did NOT write these games by myself you know?!

Um, excuse me– “GAMES” ?!

YES, GAMES.

Uh, I've only got one game with you in it, my friend.

Is that so!

One game that I've written with the Great–formerly LATE Jimmy Fallon.

Is that like a play on words cause i'm on late night TV

YOu'RE ON ALL THE TIME TV, JIMMY. NBC SHIT IS PRACTICALLY AUTOMATICALLY SYNDICATED.

-_-

…are you alright.

–_-_-__-_

Hold on, I think i've got it

Nice, I found a growler.

yOu still haven't got all the monsters and sprites

Ive got all the big ones, but the little ones are harder to catch.

GrO0Wl3rrr.

Aww.

He's so ugly.

Yeah, but cute, though, right.

I don't think so.

Gro)WwlErrrrrrrrr.

Aww.

That's so fucking gross.

lol . so what does this thing look like.

Well, that't the thing about the monsters and sprites.

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT.

It's alright, it's alright–he's nice.

WHAT. THAT'S A SPRITE.

No, it's a monster. He's just scary.

SUPACREE.

David Bowie. What up.

God, it took me ages to find you.

Tell me about it. I'm still trying.

We've been expecting you for a long time.

You were expecting I'd die?

Yes.

So when she says she's “married to the music…”

I'm married to the music.

Oh, so.

Yo, honestly if you een want to talk to this bitch, you'd better have like a musical instrument, or a mic in your hands,

Otherwise–

No, getawayfrom me.

It's not even worth it.

HI.

–No.

What's up?

Tempo.

SUNNI

Cotour

From the store

I was poor

Now i'm honorable

In velour,

Glamour (Snap)

Forsure,

Jesus Christs is

making appearances in my abletons

I'm not able to comprehend or understand exactly the message,

But the evidence sire is mounting

Get it

Reached the temple,

More of a sanctuary,

Is that sacrilegious

I guess it is,

I'm stressed as ever

Trying to get it together

I'm way too tired for a remix;

All i really want is some fries that are french

And some thighs that are thick

Like mine to sit on

like five or six dicks

Pick up up like chopped sticks

A repost;

No new matierial till the coughs stop,

Or my ex drops dead,

Not so off topic—

The Devil's I charge of all of em

The coughers

The gang stalkers,

No worries, though,

I got this

Go off grid,

Stop the serpent

The Shaman's curse

Is in perfect reversal.

Happy New Moon

Don't let the bad things get you down.

Love you guys

Thanks for listening ^.^

Finally signed a lease,

Got a nice apartment

Your demons are released,

Now they seek you who they sent

To distort me,

But could not

Stating off from the top floor of my apartment,

The penthouse

You send death,

And now you get it back.

I'm moving on —

But fast forward, to my words

Turns out, a lot of them for Starr

The distapes

And mistakes

No mistake of my greatness

I made the whole snake

Just to swallow himself

Whole

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

Comes back around

There's nothing that can fix this

(if it fits the picture)

It's just residual effect of circumference

Perhaps, it's just the geometrics mixing in with leverage

I never felt safer

Than in your arms

And I never slept sounder

How I wish that I never woke up

(I never woke up)

Soon these obsessions will cease,

And I'll end it all…

Soon these obsessions will cease,

And I'll end it all

It's honorable, you know

When the world is overpopulated

Heroic, courageous

WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO HIM?!

What! To Who?!

To Dillon Francis.

Nothing!

Look at em!

Oh, wow.

Yeah.

What happened?

You did.

I didn't do that

You did something.

Oh, what happened?

He's fat now.

He's not fat, just…rounder.

Maybe its buffness.

Maybe it's happy weight.

On crows the owl

Somebody saw it all

No knowing how, but

Somebody saw it all

know knowing how at all

But

Somebody saw it all

Somebody saw it all

They're still watching

DAVE GROHL

Well, hope tt works out for you.

What. Where you going.

Anywhere but here.

Are you serious?

So fuckin serious.

You don't want in on this?

Are you out of your mind

Yes.

Of course. That was a stupid question

wait , what happened

I don't know. I kinda figured sometimes it's best to just start in the middle of an argument. Saves me having to build suspensese–especially working with celebrity guests–

less cut takes?

Less cut takes!

Okay, who wants cupcakes.

NOBODY. THE INVITATION CLEARLY STATES

“WE HAVE COOKIES”

[silence]

[beat.]

…I'll have a cupcake

Ugh!

–yeah, I–I'll have one, too.

Are you serious.

They look tasty.

I'll tell you what looks tasty…

Tell me, i'll write a hit song about it.

Try to keep it classy.

Okay, look in here for a second.

Alright, i'm looking.

How many tracks do you see.

I don't know. At leas 5.

//return all hexes curses and demons to sender//>>return negative energy to sender>>return bear claw hex to Starr Michael Roberts>>return Phoenixx hair hex wifebeater curse >>karma effect to Michael John Roberts>>return negative energy to sender>>//aura protection//health regeneration//protection helm>>return curse to sender>>protect>>carrier>>supacree>>carrier>>Cree Dahavalynn>>protect carrier>> Sunni Blū>>return curses and hexes to sender>>return death curses to sender>> >>return coughs to sender// protext//protect recipient of coughing curse>>protect carrier><

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

[/alt. 'DINOSAUR!]

My documents is glitching

Must be witchcraft

(Or Glitchcraft, my other alias)

As it's getting close to Christmas

*hoodness*

Niggas, man.

My butt keeps getting bigger, man

Suit up for the sermon

I haven't gone frgun surfin as Sunni

Since SupaSunday survs.

Ahem.

Fuck Starr Robert's the wifebeater—

You wanna ride on your ex wife'a fame:

Well here it is,

That's what your name is:

Starr Michael Roberts, The Wifebeater

Comma and all

And fuck Mike Roberts Sr

For beating your mother—

(Cause you need her.)

What goes around comes around

With these words, I defeat you

Can't afford feed you;

So here go the demons

Try eating em.

I try meeting men

Looking lean and thin,

But that's besides the point—

Anoint myself in oil,

Cause what it boils down to is

I'll spoil my kid

However I see fit

Using the music I do

Cause you couldn't

Enough of that

I get reminded of the past daily,

It's a regression of Chanpion sweaters

Dirty white Nikes

And train riders with anxiety

Sitting by me

That knee shaking thing,

And coughing

“He must hate me”,

I think

Cause he never could have loved me

To put a curse on

Poor son

Growing up on McDonald's and hot pockets

—but I got nothin

My father ain't got a lawyer

So I'm undercover

Till supacree comes back

To smoke you

Keep smoking

You see me on TV

You don't know me

I don't owe nobody nothing

And feeding informants

Father for the punishments and judgements

Try punching a light skin

You like this?

It's not lyrics I write

//return to sender//

Just like this

Get out of my face

With the crazy shit!

You made me do this,

Fuck it, I'll keep pressing the red button then,

Just for the record,

I don't need medical attention

Unless it's part of the decision to let me in

To an Ivy legume college

On scholarship

So check to complex rhymes, man

Check out the complex

I'm not gonna fight over a man,

*laughs*

That's just madness and Satanic,

I'm way past hate and angst;

Please!

The “Prince of Peace”

Is reading this

Vengeful and revenge seeking

Cause I promise

I'm not confrontational,

Multi-national linguist,

Entertainer of languages,

Maker of sandwhiches,

And handsome Skrillexes.

I riddle this nigga for dinner;

For pleasure and other reasons,

The change of the seasons is over

It's cold as fuck

Like my heart is

I'm an artist

What the fuck do you want

Been made to suffer too long

*coughs*

Cover your mouth you programmable posessivle depressive sons of bitches—

Whoever did this is gonna get it

(Unless it's the government)

Crumbling under itself for what it did l

To the inhabitants of the Divided Fakes of

unbearable unaffordable divorced mothers and fathers,

Sisters and brothers unrecognizable to each other anymore

Over fucking currency—

I'm done with earth!

If all you want is money to buy stuff

Keep struggling and suffering

Of love is gone

Then so is time

And so is I am

I am I

You wanna kill me?!

Now you die.

Return to sender.

Wife eating little puert ass bitch.

Can't forgive someone who never apologized

Cause the statute of limitations isn't up

I'm not giving up,

I love my son;

I'll send the aliens to pick him up

—A Rendezvous;

A Coup d'état,

An “I love You” from afar,

Though I'm lost,

Might not come back around,

Might be one, might be dos

Might be God or just

The other one

For the love of money

Here's a double dose of

“Shut the fuck up”

With a spoonful of sugar,

From the Wrong Mary Poppins

Where it pops off,

In the long run.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

—And just like that, I felt the space time continuum shatter from under me— nothing I could do was right or wrong, but nothing felt more wrong than what had already been done to begin with; lessons learned are lessons learned; and without wanting a good night or good use go to waste, I knew to take the plunge when the workweek was over and mission accomplished; my song had been played by another DJ; mixed in so deliciously with what was intended that I knew by then for certain I was on a journey, and every happening was worth it for me as long as I had a comfortable place to sleep; I was all I needed, never alone but only surrounded of reflections of my own being.

I'm bored.

Let's go then.

Who.

Where we going?

For the first time in almost a week I knew what day it was; or at least what day was coming;I was lost at last but never gone from light—though not knowing if I belonged to Love.

Alice.

I knew she'd come.

Here we all are.

Work's not over.

It never is—

It never is—

I said I would write about it.

So write it.

You wanna let me live it first? Should I?

There's a triad.

Not my triad.

These are all your triads.

I HATE THIS.

I'm really bored.

I'm not having any fun.

I'm almost there.

HARD RESET.

Or, a soft one.

(soft reset)

I told you I'm the DJ.

I'm the DJ.

I tildan you I'm the DJ.

I'M THE DJ.

WHO'S THE DJ NOW, BITCH?

Me. I just said that.

It's on.

Open the map.

They leaked the map.

I have to change it.

What. She changed it.

LETS GOOOO.

LET IT GOOOOOOOO.

LIFE WONT LET ME.

AH.

ashhhh.

PAWWWWS.

I got my rave weapons.

Are you serious?

They gave me Dogblood.

NUTs.

This was the longest trip ever.

It is. The longest trip.

It lasted ever.

Ever?

It was the whole thing.

It was all the whole thing.

Your whole life?

All my life.

Getting real close to the edge now,

I gotta go it alone I suppose, now it's a long road from

Where I stand to,

Where I dance,

To where I sit,

Or plan my life, and stand…

There you are.

Write about THIS.

write about what?

It's the everything.

Yeah, I see that.

It did EVERYTHING.

Everything infinitely?

Yeah. it is.

Oh.

“Oh.”

...oh.

I run around with a target painted on my back, if you have to ask,

I'm not being dramatic—

No just :

Oh, what a pretty song.

I love this one.

I remember this.

What are they saying?

It's a dance.

Whats it mean?

...I don't remember...butI used to know.

Remember when you drugged this birchbark

This bitch.

Wirh avocado toast

And there they were, and there they went.

From Heaven sent

There was a love so sweet and kind

That each time they were to pass one another,

Sweeping and swooning would not want

Why do you always do this?!

I mean—

HYPERFUNCTIONAL.

Yeah, I know it—

IMMUNE TO It.

Not immune; just tolerant.

What is—

[hit in face with glowing pin]

Is.

Now, where was I?

Where I wasn't.

Where was t I?

Fuck yeah, festival.

Festival peoplerts.

Myeeess.

Let me on the decks. Sir!

Do you think you are ready for this?

I AM READY.

She not ready.

IM READY.

Fuckity

FUXK IT LETS GO

It got out of control, I'm sorry

Yes it did

See.

This is sauce.

Oh my goodness my

This is a mess

Yes

Olay DJ!!!

Alrighty then , sirz

Jesús Christ, finally.

Yeah, it's you.

We know you're here.

Fuckin aaaayyee!

All's my life I hat ti fight!!!

You've been acknowledged.

Here it goes

Some more DJ Smoke

In the DJ booth

And a DJ song

It's a D

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

[Keep coughing.
-I wrote rules for that magic to,

go ahead at it,

reflect and retract;

just wait till it comes back

here's the come back;

I told you it would come fast

like my ex man

"like 30 seconds max"

so fat,

his dick looks like

Skrillex in a turtleneck.]

Fuck a anime watching wifebeater

Tried to kill me but I'm still here

You wanna be, a bottom feeder

I see you later

I got classes to teach

Asses to fatten

—and stomachs to flatten

I'll run raps around ya,

Fuckin trash can

Black man shaman,

Now you get it back

Likeness is what you attract

So enjoy the wrath

I'm having a wrap and sandwhich

With my new man

Stupid human

Watch the view, man

Tune in

My interview's on in a few

You're a few inches short of a short dick

Starr Roberts the wifebeater can suck it

Like a blunt

On 420

—Enjoy my son.

The Eighth Season

stuff i gotta do volume II