The Secret Life Of Sunnï Blū

I'm not in love with you,

You're just another muse

FeliZ! Para Oscar

el controladpra

Oscar El Controladora

I found you with only the highs in

Like the tide when I tried to find you

Or hide from you

In hindsight

I was right the whole time

You're just like me

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

#consiouness #stoplitterin #pleasedrinkresponsibly #festivallife #thefestivalproject

Tomorrow

I never sleep;

It's been a couple dozen weeks, at least

I laid the egg

(I plant the seed)

Now watch it hatch

(Now, let it sprout)

I paint a smile on

Over the scars, of course

Prisoner of war

I beg your pardon,

For your Honor,

or other

No, Nevermind!

I paint a smile on

Over the scars, of course

Prisoner of war

I beg your pardon,

For your Honor,

or other

No, Nevermind!

I have 900 things to do

And I can't get over you

And now every day is blue

It's so crazy

(I guess she has a leg up on me, huh)

I sense a hint of morning sickness

A gifted ad nauseum

Museam of mathematics

Madonna, Matron of the Matrix

Put a smile on, would ya?

Probably not, at second thought of it

A smart ass, yes, I always was

A husband, I was not

I had the other part

–and now we wrap,

The audience suggests an encore, clapping

Captain?

I'll be back

One second, said the

MA

Fuck, we passed the exit.

LADYBIRD VEGAN RESTURAUNT

grandmother is a semi-modular analog synthesizer with a built-in arpeggiator, sequencer and spring reverb tank. Start playing immediately with “no patching required”, and then explore an infinite sonic playground with Grandmother's reconfigurable front panel. Grandmother's circuits, spring reverb, and spirit are inspired by the classic Moog Modular Synthesizers, making this instrument a powerful addition to a Mother-32, DFAM or any Eurorack modular system.

Grandmother is available in two distinct styles: original multi-colored front panel artwork and all-black Dark Series edition

OH MY GOD.

I'm– yeah.

WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?

I didn't do anything!

!!?

–Persay…

“Persay”!?

Why's everybody sitting on the sidewalk?

This, I don't understand

With all of the trash,

And all that has happpened,

The risk of the past

Coming at you,

To seep through your

Denim blue jeans,

Just believe me—

I speak true of residual confusion

You might be new to this,

I'm not confused, it's just stupid to lucid dream loosely

Summer's in bloom—

And I'm blue just like you

Used to be

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Why's everybody sitting on the sidewalk?

This, I don't understand

With all of the trash,

And all that has happpened,

The risk of the past

Coming at you,

To seep through your

Denim blue jeans,

Just believe me—

I speak true of residual confusion

You might be new to this,

I'm not confused, it's just stupid to lucid dream loosely

Summer's in bloom—

And I'm blue just like you

Used to be

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Equinox+ (EP)

Love brings me out of my shell;

—I could love you, I

I could love you, I

Could love you, I

Could love you,

I love you

I love you, I

This isn't good for my health;

If you don't love me,oh well —

(I could love you, I)

This is just passing the time,

Count my dimes and,

I'm wealthy, you build me up

Shining, I wake you up

Diamond of mine,

I love you, I

Love you I

Do what I want most the time,

Cause nothing else matters but

Making you mine

I, so what I want most the time

I can't get out

Out of my mind,

Cause I love you

I love you I,

Wasting my time,

I could love you but

Nevermind

Drunk,

And I'm stumbling up to my apartment for

The 30th time this month,

My rent's due tomorrow, but

I got it,

Woah,

I've got just enough

Just to keep fuxkin up

Getting fucked up

And filling my cup

Like it's something,

But it's nothing,

Not really

Nothing,

Not really

Be good

Work it out

Come on

Work it odd

Be good

Shake it off

Work it out

Come on

Be good,

Work it off,

Work it out—

Come on

Be good

Work it out

Shake it off

Come on

—

We all know

There's a monster in there

And it wants let out;

All man, beware—

Yeah

We all know

There's a monster in her—

And,

Someone will let it go

Oh,

Someone let it go

Oh, no (oh yeah)

Oh, no

That's no good

That's no good

Oh no

(Oh yeah)

Oh no

(Oh yeah!)

No, no

You just had to let it go

You just had to let it go

Oh, no!

—

I need time

To rationalize my genius

I can't write light this

Alt right all white nationalists

I can fantazize, right?

I could die like this

It's a damn good life

What fucking time is it, anyway?

Right?

I can't rationalize, this

Fascist rats at The Fashion district

Bam, I had it—

I had to get right, man

I had to get God on my Mantras

I fucked up tomorrow,

I'm off in Toronto with problems

And dogma—

Who's dog is this

Tied up at the Whole Foods market

I tried it, I died in the in

I can't idolize idols, man

Cry, though,

Dip my bicoff in Chiapas coffee

All pissed off,

Woah

It's the wrong morning to wallow in

Caught me off guard at the offering

Sha, there's no mother here,

No other one,

You're wrong God,

I stopped to cross at all of them,

I suffered when I swallowed,

Rah,

What's wrong?

I'm feeling solemn on my sodomist

Wishes of

This centrifugal

—‘swimming with the fishes,

Get it?

Woah,

It's a whole open world of

Wizards and witches

I wish I could ditch this

—the center or attention is this city—

That's Alex Tribec, for the record

Fuck the TriBeCa fest

Rest in Los Angeles

Rest in peace Barbra

Hah—

I've got all of em

This is an awful lot of mantras,

Stars and Stripes. God;

I lost it at the Oscar's,

Turn me on, or off

I'm all of it

Or not

What was the cost of this?

An awful lot of mantras, stars,

And crosswalks,

To stop dead in the center of

“I'm miserable

That's Hollywood for you, God,

That's Hollywood,

That's where we dropped you off

—

Have you had enough, yet?

How was is?

Enough!

I'm not even fully up yet!

Fuck,

It was loveless,

All up in ashes,

I told ya,

That “fun is a friend of the devil “

Burn in sense,

Just rub out the sense

Have my lips on your hips,

Just rotate,

As the earth did,

In difference, she has

Impatience is his imperfection

“Eventually,”

She says,

“I'll see him”

He tends to agree,

Within reason—

Winter breezes and freedom,

This season

Envy leaves,

But she's gonna get even

Come in threes,

And maybe,

We'll see then.

Come to the surface,

Come up—

Don't give up yet

Give what you've got;

Half a lung,

And the other is under—

Come on,

Come up,

Come all—

Come, you're walking on water!

No wonder they call for you

On earth

—

(We've got a Hot One, for you)

Have you ever wondered

What's wrong with us all?

Fuck—

Hollywood's calling,

I don't have my phone on me

Hollywood called,

But your voice Mail is full,

What?

I finally picked up;

The message at the tone,

Was in Morse code

Billy fit the Playbill,

I signed it “usnavi”

Yo,

You look just like me

A sacrifice?

A sacrifice,

I said,

I'm red,

I'm jealous like I've never been

That's right, blue eyes then

Next lifetime

Fu—

They robbed me of all my art

As a hobby

Worshipped for All I've got

Not a god yet, but

Gotta be working on something

That's all of it,

Gotta be knocking it off,

Full of gossip and

God, I want love

But it's not in the cards, huh

New Joan Of Ark,

Where's the war

That you wanted

Not enough talk,

But I've done enough walking

Gosh,

Two thumbs up,

All applause from the audience

That what you wanted?

Yeah!

“God I want love but it's not in the cards yet”

That's what you wanted?

Yeah!

That's what you wanted

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

KASKADE enters obnoxiously.

KASKADE

YO.

MAN. FUCK YOU, KASKADE.

KASKADE

[WATCH YOUR] LANGUAGE

MAN, SHUT THE FUCK UP.

KASKADE

GET UP—

FUCK OFF, KASKADE.

KASKADE

—And get dressed.

I'm already dressed.

[beat]

KASKADE

You call that dressed?

—I'm not naked.

KASKADE

Yeah, but you're not dressed.

Fuck you, dude.

What did you do.

I TOLD you not to play this song.

I WASNT PLAYING. I was LISTENING.

What's the difference!

SUBWOOFERS.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Ok

[***Trigger Warning***]

W E I R D.

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.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

[The Festival Projext]

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

AHEM.

Right.

Over the love and devotion of their biggest fan.

That's right!

Oh please. How is anyone going to believe that.

Just believe!!

Believe it!

Bbbbbbblllllliiieeevveeeeeee!!

Fuck this shit.

Uh, no thanks.

Skinny white girls.

Send the Becky's.

Hot white girls.

Ah, oh shit.

Send The White Bitchus.

MILEY, PLEASE STOP.

FUCK TINA FEY!!!!

I HATE YOU!!!

WHERE'S SUPACREE?!?

SUPACREE: fuck supacree.

You are supacree.

I'm not supacree.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

SKRILLEX IS EVIL.

I NEED GECS.

FUCK YOUR GECS.

FUCK YOUR SKRILLEX.

(Eggageratwd gasp)

TAKE THAT BACK!

TAKE SKRILLEX BACK.

ALL SALES FINAL.

JUST DATE HIM.

No.

Just—come on!

No!!

Why not, yo.

Fuck Dillon Francis.

I said no.

Nancy Reagan: just say no!

Uhhhhhh.

That's a lot of money.

Yes it is. Ii

SHE SAID YESSSSS!! [Tom Cruising]

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

Where is Skrillex this whole time??

Wherever the fuck he is. Who the fuck cares.

With Kay”-

They're not together!!!

So we're in denial?

She's a robot

No, she's just white.

She's a porn star

Just as likely!!

No, she's just— well, maybe

FAKE LIP HOE

fake boobs, too

So is she just a nicki Minaj

She's a nicki mirage—

What's that mean?

She doesn't exist.

HEY.

Oh, hey

I HAVE TALENT.

Sorry nicki

Fuck your Skrillex!

By all means

Fuck dude, I might have to kill myaelf again

Again m? DIDNT you already do that?

I just did this?

I've been here

I remember this.

No way. I just did this?

How close are we?

We're getting close.

Bet you she jumps

Bet she slits her wrists

She'll chicken out

No, she does it—I've seen this.

You've seen this?!

It's a rerun?

A rerun?!

What's a rerun?

This is live?

It's a taping.

What!

It's live action!

In real-time HD

I HATE YOU.

I HATE THIS.

Where's Dillon Francis

He quit

I was hacked

I got it

Oh no.

Oh NO.

Don't tell me—

Okay. Fuck this. I quit.

What!

I can't do this.

It's just acting.

Look, no offense—

Oh I remember this, he said

Look no offense, but—

You're not my type.

He's not my type!

You have a type?

He's not my—

—

—-

—-

Where's Skrillex?

You're an idiot.

OH.

Oh, YEAH.

I did this.

Yea, you did

You dumb bitch

HE KNEW THIS?

He stole it?

It was HIM?

Honestly, I'm all for it, just

ACTION!

AAAAAHHHHHHHH——

Oh, no—

DILLON FRANCIS, YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!

SUPACREE—

I thought supacree is dead

She is—

Okay, then—

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

Oh no.

PANDA.

What the fuck! Am I late?

WHO ARE YOU?

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

I am in this. Here's my contract.

(He produces a folded piece of paper)

.

FUCK

Who: Skrillex.

What: What? What's a Skrillex?

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

Where: Which dimension was this?

Why: “Why, yes, I--I know why!”

How: “How.”

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

This is all actually happening at the same time.

Okay, so where is Skrillex?

Beats the fuck outta me.

Why is she mad at him?

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

Ah, yes, the SupaCree and Skrillex animated movie.

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

At least for awhile, I think…

Well, how does that movie go?

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

(were you sure it was a supacree?)

((Some kind of tesseract--))

(Is that what that even means?)

((I guess.))

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

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

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

I do need to do something with it

Gather all the Dillon Francis.

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

That's his magic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Possibly the ninja urging Skrillex to flee to Tijuana.

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

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

I think.

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

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

He recognized her, so when did they meet?

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

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

Showrunner? I thought you were the actor!

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

Don't spoil it.

Spoil what? Nobody's even reading it.

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

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

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

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

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

True.

FUCK.

Are you serious?

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

GAY.

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

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

WHAT?

I told you, it's infinite.

That was just something I used to want.

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

Bullshit.

What do you think it all meant to be?

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

Maybe that's why they used Sonny.

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

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

Oh. Snap.

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

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

And then?

Skrillex shows up. Right?

I guess, that's where he was banished.

Damn, this is some crazy shit.

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

Nothing is impossible. Go on.

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

Yeah, Infinite.

SO I don't even know where to start.

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

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

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

Whose eyes?

Oh, you know who.

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

What's that shit?

ANYOFIT.

Goddamn. That got dark.

Or, Deep, if you're asking Hanzel.

What else did we leave out?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everyone drinks.

Everyone but me.

And yet, you sit here spinning.

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

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

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

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

As if suicidal tendencies preceding wouldn't end me?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That's obsession, I think.

No, that's actually the magic.

How?

Remember, that coincidences don't even exist?

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

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

That's never happening.

Oh, if you live, believe it is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And what defines the difference between fan and future wife?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He is not my guy.

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

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

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

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

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

No, I hadn't even noticed.

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

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

Turn the page.

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

But Dillon Francis makes you laugh.

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

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

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

Someone else, like who?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Magic appeared because of racists?

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

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

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

So what happens in these ‘lessons'?

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

What's something really scary?

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

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

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

So kind of like, a dream?

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

This happens, when you're dreaming?

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

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

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

What helps you differentiate between timelines?

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

So, these are memories?

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

Sometimes.

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

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

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

What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything?

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

Your sentiments, but not sentiments exactly?

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

What changed?

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

A Northern Sunset?!

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

The One, being?

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

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

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

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

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.