The Secret Life Of Sunnï Blū

Idol//Icon

I'm an idol

I'm an icon

Depending what planet you're on—

I'm a God

I wrote the whole plot

And it's just getting started

Haven't thought of the sea, since I parted it

I'm the whole rock that you're spinning on

Now, move among, Mohammed

I'm the reason for your Ramadan

I'm offline

I'm an idol, I'm an icon

Have you all on standby,

I'm an idol, I'm an icon

Have you standing in line

I'm an idol, I'm an icon

I get what I want

I'm an idol, I'm an icon

I'm a God

I don't think anything nessicarily

Unpredictable, even if it's all just

A simulated experience,

We captured it,

Encrypted it, the memories,

And every single event leading up to this

We reinvented it,

The existential simulation

Existence is just a reflection of

Perception's circumstance

The circumference of consciousness

Conception to the ever present

This is the revolution,

Prophesied and lived in

God's Camouflage

And Dillon's Daisies;

All the beautiful people in the world hate me—

But the true beautiful people are crazy

You see?

I feel it from the inside

Run, but can't hide

The American nightmare

Is plainly insight

If you open your eyes

Wide enough

Show me something undercover

Anothe God, maybe a lover

Perhaps a future, or a fire

Or a fountain, or a fighter

Right to bear arms,

You are the Army

I am the honor

And the armor

To penetrate with enragemenr

Engagementsx

Fulfillments

So fluid, the intuition

The truth and the beautified intentions

Revocations needed,

And Socrates repeated in genetics

Reptiles and mammals, insects

—And disrespected citizens in Radissions at Ramadan

—The Importanxe of Coffee

Spring is here,

And he is risen

Spring is here

We are Alive again

Spring is here,

And she has risen

Spring is here

We live again

Destructive forms of thought,

forums and collegium's

Foraging for wonders

Often said to be lost,

Or never throught of

Yet,

I seek to wonder

Seek to run

And seek to shatter alters

Fit the form of

All who also seek to know us

I don't know what day it is

I don't know what works we live in

I don't know to pray to Jesus

I just pray

That's all that he did

I don't know what I believe in

Know it's God, but God is different

Always represented “him”

But never represented women.

O'HARA'S BAR, MANHATTAN. NY

And I couldn't.l care less

Cause I'm not pressed for time,

You see—

It's all just lessons and guessin,

Depressed expressions of the greatest institution to ever have lived—

But the more that you get,

Than the more you should give

Okay,

If you say so

That's the way it is

That's the way it goes

But there's only God

And God only knows

The story you tell

Is just the story you told

What's the Golden Rule?

Where are the Golden Girls when you need them?

Hey, it's syndicated, so

Play replay it

Loose Change In my Pocket

So let's get to making it happen

Just remember

I'm the one that you're following

Let's just acknowledge the prophet

And prophesies

Blue eyes turn brown after time,

Don't you know

Blue eyes today,

Brown eyes tomorrow

Your time is over

The time is now, for now

There's no tomorrow

There's no tomorrow

Once you start the clock, you can't stop it

Don't stop to talk,

It's special operations

There we are, at God again

Acknowledge the prophet

The blacks are all homeless

And the white are all Godless—

Are we done yet

I'm at the One World

Are you gonna run yet?

What's there to run from—

You know where I come from?

Don't stop now

No,

Don't stop at all

Sure, if you say so

I'm going

Okay, go

So you know

And I know

It's all just a cycle of

SQUIRREL

aahhh, shit. I love squirrels.

Where the fuck are you going?

I don't know.

I suck at the map game.

DAMN.

Sentimental PTSD

Elemental equations and

Automatic admissions

Sonic samples and m

Illusions of freedom,

escape from the present,

And turn off your Bluetooth

Listen.

Huh, what happened.

A lot, apparently.

Aparate.

Goddamnit, where is she.

Who has the records on this.

Believe me, someone.

God is real as fuck.

Okay. What am I looking at.

What are you waiting for

2)343

Where the fuck is Skrillex?

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

I told you he was the feds.

What the fuck happened?

You know, we left all this here before;

That's what allows this to continue happening.

The elemental differences is,

The rememberance of the residual memory which was given to you, implanted in your genetics so that you may undo what continues to be done, and so dissallows evolution and ascension of your entity's existence.

What the fuck is that

Idk it's Ramadan

Very strange day to visit the World Trade Center

No, it isn't.

I got up at exactly 9:11 with no plans for the day whatsoever, and an urgency to leave my quarters, however—the urge to clean and organize before doing so was even greater, and so, without much haste, I spent my morning bettering my surroundings, which were, at best, depressing—but much better than before, and even though I preferred Brooklyn or of course Manhattan, I now new how to easily access most of New York without needing too many directions; and so navigating the city off the grid and offline has become possible, and also necessary.

You know, some say you're the messiah.

Oh yeah? What else do they say?

Depends on who “they” is.

It's all me.

Everything is you.

I said that.

I had become quite skillful of staying out of people's way, and in enough time would come to create my own. I had to entrust that I was no one particularly special, and yet, it did however seem I had captured the interests of someone who didn't quite care to remain as unseen as unknown. I could only hoped that the pursuants would become a little better at allowing me to know I was being watched and followed—and while I was under the impression that it no longer matter how or if I lived or died, my apathy became a launchpad for the

I love m&ms!

That's millions and millions

Nevermind my billions;

Save it for the buildings

All of a sudden, the entire locker room was pitch black—as I stepped out of the showers, turning my flashlight so that I could make may way through the m unfamiliar terriftory, an all too familiar sound rang out from what at first I thought might be my headphones, but soon realized, as I had left my headphones to charge, that it was actually coming from the overhead speakers

Time & Music, Sense Memory and Time Travel—The Synethetic Continuum

That's my thesis?!

That's your thesis.

Stop?

Stand nonchalantly

Go tube what you've got

Oh

You're in for it now,

Hear the drums of the summoners

Come, come one now

Come all, if you wanna

Jump off somethin high up

And you land right on us

Yeah right

Try it, I'll bet me last dollar on it

God, I gotta stop shopping at the Whole Foods market

On Wall Street

They all saw me coming

Fuck it

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Psh. I'm not gonna fight over a dude.

It's ********.

He's just a dude.

So what gives.

I don't know. I told her to do what she wants.

She wants you to die.

We are similar.

She's prettier.

Okay?

Wow, that's it--just ok? Give up already.

I did.

And yet, here we are.

I'm the only one here.

Let's not ignore the Skrillex sized elephant in the room.

That would be impossible to ignore, If it existed.Have you ever seen a tiny elephant?

Just you.

What am I gonna do with this?

Burn it.

Ive been in the habit of burning things for awhile now; I'm not sure continuing is such a great idea.

Oh, like when you sold your soul?

WHAT? I haven't done that... yet…

Sure you have! Lots of times.

What the fuckare you talking about?

Whose talking?

The Universe?

What'd she say?

She says, “You're a giant piece of shit.”

Aww. How sweet.

Even more significant. You're a--are you even listening?

I should go to sleep.

Are you even tired?

No, just useless.

You should probably hurry up with that DIllon Francis.

He seems busy.

If a grown man can be a romantic,

Like I am

This is the promised land

No looking back--

"I have to have that"

Back to reality;

I see now, how a woman's like a hat

Just a thing,

An unneeded accessory,

Like jewelry;

To wear it,

It must be a match

Not just average,

Accentuates or masks

Whatever it is what you have,

And you have so many that

It doesn't matter.

What is he after?

He has everything

Most likely just using me to bring these

Creatures to life

If he needs a wife, she's

Probably staring back at me,

Through the back of the camera;

Fantastic beasts and fucking fansasies

A fallacy

A back handed chance at a handsome

Has been;

But he'll never been had like that,

He has everything,

But he could have more than that,

He can have anything,

And he has, he's

Magic or something or

Mad at me for taking so long but,

I've been in the world of monsters,

Reeling;

Oh what a horrible feeling

I'm dealing with being unappealing and

Peeling potatoes, which

Remind me of me, cause

Kenny Powers middle name is White,

Like Walter,

I'm just trying to find

The alter to sell away something inside,

I'm dying;

Or at least I'd like to I've

Tried a dozen times

I'd smile if I had the time--

Remind me, what it is again

It isn't comprehensive,

But I'm out of my element--

And the elephant in the room is named

Skrillex,

Or Dillon Francis,

Or Timmy Trumpet,

Or,

Fuck It--

I'll probably never be the DJ that I wanna be

Cause I'm awfully ugly,

And no one wants to play with me

But hey,

Maybe it's just a mistake

Its just no one speaks my language

Comunication is limited

I'm sitting in the back of the short bus

Discussing this with my imaginary elephant,

But that's irrelevant to the

White rinocerous in front of the bus

with trust issues bigger than the rest of us

We're following you.

I see that.

Yes—what did you see?

Hm. I didn't,

Where are you now?

Wherever you say.

What's the cadence?

What's a “cadence?”

Don't be ridiculous.

Maybe I'm not.

Who are you?

What's a “who?”

Horton Heard One.

What about Penelope?

Who is that?

Elephants Are conscious.

What is consciousness?

What is “income tax”?

Don't be funny.

If I'm not, I'm just scary.

“El Negra”

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

In real time.

Okay—we're all adults here—

(Everyone nods, yesses in agreement)

—except deadmau5. He's like 5.

I have a name.

Does anyone care?

Okay, ouch.

Oh, he feels!

ENDER BENDER ZIMMERMAN has the worst name ever.

Lol.

I drank a lot in the third trimester.

He becomes a de facto villain— of course, because of his ridiculous name and of course, living in the shadow of his parent's fame and fortune.

Who the fuck are his parents?

JOEL

Not it.

Brand new turnkey apartment

Post near, food floor all that

Way way higher than the fourth floor

All that

Way way higher than your front door

All that

Wow,

How I've always been needed

And never been loved

Moog Grandmother

Ableton Push 2

Pioneer Model One

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Yo, what the fuck.

TESLA.

Ok.

*COUGHS*

What the fuck.

*morevgross, obnoxious coughing*

Ughhhhh whhhaaaattttt.

TESLA.

Okay, I don't—

T E S L A

OH. Wow.

So it is the satellites.

ELONNNNN.

…hm?

GET IN HERE.

where is that,

.

AAGAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHTTHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

WHAT.

GET IN HERE.

I don't even believe the rain, these days

“We can make it rain”, he says

Storm warning

A good morning

A door's open,

This one's closing, though

I'm not bc all cold yet,

But it's a cold world

No free rides

No clean ice

No free girls

Honestly,

I'm bored with the world,

Like Marlboros and wrong boroughs,

And songs shared,

But no long walks in the park,

In a nightmare—

It's not fair

I'm not there in the head;

I'm not near,

I'm not a parent apparently, either—

But a light bearer

Slight chance of a fight there,

A right wing, a left deer

Another dead bird on a wire

—I like her.

Why are there flamingos in the bellagio fountain?!

I don't know.

INT. THE VOID, KITCHEN. SUNLIGHT EVERYWHERE

BRYAN CRANSTON is scmoozing desperately to work his way into The Festival Project

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Wow. How is it you look better.

I'm gonna need proof this exists.

Proof what exists.

THE KOOLAID MAN erupts through the wall.

OH YEAH.

I'm going to bed.

MA!

FRAN/SUPER JEWISH MOM

Look all I got is matzos and coconut water.

*colecanth growls scarily*

FRAN/ SUPER JEWISH MOM

AHHH!

Bananas! I got bananas! You want some bananas?!

COELACANTH

Arg?

COELACANTH, THE GIANT TERRIFLYING CLOUD MONSTER apparently Loves bananas

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

“Secret Passages”

I couldn't wipe the image of Joel out of my head; I had been cisited in my dreams by just about everyone I had been writing about of course, lately—though I hadn't particularly been writing about anyone or anything at all, at least enough that it would believe me to coincide with any of my dreams—but it was rarest of all to have a dream about Joel, and even though I had spent hours consciously and unconsciously listening to his music, he would rarely show up in my dreams at all—perhaps because I did my best not to pay him, his career, or his presence at all too much attention; I kept myself from really exploring his celebrity persona as much as I had allowed myself to with anyone else; indeed, Joel to me has become just such as a shadow figure, his deadmau5 my imaginary friend, and after what had happened with Sonny, and nearly again with Dillon, I obstinately shielded myself from Joel, whoever he was or might have been besides deadmau5, who had been one of the masters in my choice of study anyway, for years now— I did as little research on the actual man a human and humanely possible, often skirting around the minicule details of whatever came forth in the crevices of something I needed to know; how a certain sound was made, a plug in I might have been able to get my hands on- or even, hardware I might one day be able to afford. I had become ibsessed with synthesizers, knowing that to achieve the sound I wanted, I would have to spend time in a room much like Joel's studio—a place, of course, I never had envisioned my actual self in, but had projected to build a world where someday I might even have a studio of my own. Still, here I was, sexually charged after two days off with a sedentary roommate—which meant I had been unable to forge any kind of sexual release for just about 38 hours, a dangerous mark for the beast like Goddess who felt trapped inside me; it had been years since my last actual sexual experience—and even longer since the last satisfactory one—and now, just a week into my 30th year the raging hormones found their way into a painful and prudent sexual energy in all sorts of ways—from the attention I attracted at the gym—unwanted attention at best—but still attention that made its way into building up into a painful wedge inside my body that no amount of lifting, crunches, or machine could seem to penetrate—the frustration typically settling into some other confusing form of emotion, a sexual tension that I knew only the touch and shape of a man could take from me.

I knew immediately that it was the Eye of Desire that looked at Joel—and though my dream the night before hadn't been sexual at all—which I at least remembered, frustrated by being unable to remember anything about the dream at all besides Joel, particularly his face—and upon waking, it couldn't shake the thought on him from my mind. I knew undoubtedly that my cellibacy was to blame for the onslaught of fantastical creations my mind would bring about in the form of fantasy for Sonny, Dillon, or Joel respectively—and though I found myself quite captivated and attracted to Joel, it was by complete accident that I had found myself to be so. It was all Beyond out of my control, anyway, but I found myself excruciatingly angry to have been allowed by some cosmic wave to become so attracted to these men—this figures, musical icons, celebrities—the legends of a culture I felt so strongly attached to and apart of, made out to be Godlike creatures — and they were. Whatever threshold they had crossed to ascend into the upper realms and into an entirely seperate dimension from my own, I realized I, too, wanted to cross—and perhaps it wasn't just the fame supposed riches (as by now I knew that one's status did not always reflect financial health or stability—that bankruotcy was in fact a thing, and that everything, especially in the world of wealth, is not always as it seems), or celebrity status of these figures which had persuaded the fickle and fragile sexual beast from its chambers— the the remarkable and distinguished amount of intelligence it takes to create such that I found as masterpieces of art, and even—encapsulated pieces of history, coded and decoded extra terrestrial knowledge of space, time, and conciousness—folded neatly into the precise and profound heartbeats, breaks, and melodies I found as guiding light.

Joel was different—and though his deadmau5 had found it's way into my concious bbeing perhaps even just before Skrillex, it would be a long time before I actually paid it any attention or gave it any depth—now, fast forward some 15 years and every little thing I had taken in of the man had started to unravel in my mind and make sense, only met with the frustration of my aging and own sexuality rapidly re-emerging— I found it irritating to be so deeply attracted to someone whose music I had grown an attachment to; it was his body type that played on inclinations I had kept since my youth and had yet to be shaken; I had always preferred slim and sleek, perhaps because I had always been quite the opposite—however, now—having shaped my body body into a delicate and veluptous very womanly figure—but there were greater questions lurking in my psyche—what made up this triple-threat of figures, none of whom I would have been drawn to or found considerately attractive, let alone even been made aware of—if it weren't for music.

I had discovered upon leaving my marriage—no matter how fragile and broken my mind might have been—that my sapiosexuality, as I would learn later it was called, had become the driving force in what dominated what I was attracted to—-and though I had left my marriage beaten, battered, and subconsciously or even quite actively, just needing to be plunged with the biggest possible dick I could find, I settled somewhere between the alluring call of “The Saviour's Syndrome”, a case of what may have been open-ended Stockholm, and of course— my aversion to anything black or brown, which I blamed predominately on my own pseudo-scientific theory of “Genetic Attraction”, a theory which focuses on the concious and subconscious sexual attraction which acts as a resistance to pass on certain genetic traits or the effect of such traits—being attracted to one thing or another, an evolutionary phenomenon within our species which progresses our evolution by varying gene pools into post-raciality; Personally speaking, my own resistance to pass on skin that would be considered “too dark” to be considered ideal, and although the standards of beauty by the media's eye had given us all the illusion of change and inclusivity—I found that even so, the darkest skinned girls were always in the back—even in media that was black-owned and black-operated—the colorism within the black community making their blatent preference of “light skins” so apparent that to be so sexually attracted to another dark-skinned person for be became impossible—and as my sexuality continued to bloom Ali bf side my biological function to successfully procreate and give birth to offspring which would excel and surpass the greatest of achievements, perhaps it was this Genetic Attraxtion which created this conundrum of circumstance that I now found myself in; having left a marriage because I had to, and wanting nothing more than to be remarried—having my unchangably crucial run-in with Sonny/Skrillex at the peak of its breaking point, still in the fragile enough state of mind that though I had finally fallen out of love with Jon, who aroused me not only with the sweet softness of his voice, his dark and broken heart, his long hair, dreamy brown eyes, and sleek, skinny frame—his sweet kisses, bold gestures, and striking charisma— his teaching spirit, clever inventions, and bizzare kinks and fetish es, all of which had decimated and bedazzled me into a frazzled heap of unrequited love and desire that would last years, finally culminating in a suicide attempt—of course, not because of him, really, just a lack of love itself, the menacing and manipulation, mind games and psychological torture which had resulted from my final withdraw from my marriage—an attempt to move acros town and split custody 50/50, or rather 60/40–and my ex's insecurity and small pride creating the barrier bwreeen one timeline and another, the obstacle course for which I would have to maneuver to break myself free from whatever loveless curse it was—and of course, just two weeks later—entering what I would one day consider to be called the realm of the dead, where I met Sonny, and his Skrillex began to fall away into pieces at the foundation—with Love at the helm, and the rest of the story to be unfolded with time.

I had never cared much for deadmau5, and only considered myself a fan after learning to mix house music, which everyone seemed to be making, and though I had always really wanted to make dubstep, even engineering my own drama and tastes into a sub genre, “Surfatep”, which Would Merge the beloved sounds of the classic and surf rock that I found myself drawn to from an early age— with the grunge and dubstep that I would later find to pique my interest via Rusko, and later even Skrillex, as I became emerged into the rave culture and dance music—in those days, the only “black girl” to be seen for miles anywhere amongst the often exclusive crowds of the DJ world, which I nearly as quickly excited as I had entered, disregarding my own tastes for those of my ex's, whom I had met at age 19, and still over 300 or so pounds, malleable, not quite changing my own taste to fit his, but putting my preferences aside—EDM became my guilty pleasure, something I would listen to alone, or with friends.

Now, as I sidelined nearly anything I was interested in at all to offset my google algorithm from eating me alive, I tried to wrap my mind around Google never listing either Skrillex, Dillon, or Joel under the “Influenced By” column, curiosities in my mind boggling my very inquisitive senses, that seemed to create quite the uncomfortable itch —as perhaps was any of thier music was programmed to do; hypnotize me—the opposite sex— into wanting and needing sex with them—‘need' being an exaggerative term for the inibility I found to become attracted to or settle for anything “less”, Sonny having set the bar high, but by now having noticed that it wasn't just status, fame, wealth, materials, or even the ability to create music that I loved—the attraction respectively to any man had to have had something to do with the vibration, which of course translated indefinitely into the music they created—but the incredible circumstance was this; that either way, I found myself to be genetically attracted to their bodies, and not just thier minds—realizing that I often wished for them as peasants such as I—a complete impossibility, as the energies which they had embodied were inevitably destined for all of the attention, fame, wealth, and status that each of them had garnered—today, it was Joel that created the blossoming atrocity in my depths that rendered me illusive to the world, an almost useless center of energy which at the very least has pursued es me into breaking the cyclical patterns that had been trapping me in circles since arriving at the Raddison, another establishment which had left me fighting with empathy, and though it had in itself presented a massive opportunity for recovery, i had still becomes ravaged with a mild depression, struggling with time management and of course, bad finances. It had been weeks now that I struggled to find the focus and energy I knew was needed to thrive—it was hours away to any reputable gym, and though I fixated on training early enough in the day to be able to do whatever I wanted or needed with the rest of it, I never had the energy to be up and out by 5 AM as I wanted; in fact, it seemed no matter what i did, I was being drained of my energy—as If like gasoline my power was being siphoned with a hose; I searched everywhere for motivation, to no avail.

Suddenly I was back online; I had perceptively re-attached my belied that “gym every day” and “gym every other day” were entirely two different worlds, and so had pressed myself to find somewhere to go urgently, as the Sun was already beginning to set on another new York day, once which I hadn't even seen—it had been a tubulent night before, full of dreams I couldn't decipher, awakened by the high pitch ringing of an off kilter fire alarm, and awoken from a deep sleep even through the sanctity of my earbuds by my roommate taking on the phone—something I often let slide, but this morning had awoke with a fiends anger; she had disrupted my peaceful rest too much entirely with her blatent laziness, and this morning inwas indeed miserably irritable.

I hated being back online, but I was looking for something, it seemed—I didn't know why. Usually, the odd remix, a free sound pack, or even an automated email from Dillon Francis's marketing team, which nonetheless would usually put a smile on my face—but today, it was at least a laugh, if even from my very own self that prompted me to do something I would have never normally even done—open an email from LinkedIn, which I hated almost as much as any other social media— maybe even more—but the opening lines of a post by Insomniac, which had been lingering on the forefront of my mind for annundertermined amount of time, however long enough for it to be a spectacle; the Insomniac Logo itself at times standing out to me more so than just fade into the background of my mind, the ink on my upper wrist for some reason a sacred marker I would most the time forget was there, but lately handy quite been able to. “A message from the founder…” blah blah blah—something about Pasquale Rotella, who I had become moderately obsessed with, or at least intrigued by, after a final lesson in frequenting the front row of any MainStage had resulted in seeing one another almost eye to eye, had I not just purchased a pair of beautifully rhinestone embellished hombre-tinted sunglasses, to replace the ones I had originally worn to go with my outfit, that has broken just moments before—glasses I had worn to hide the monsterous streams of crocodile tears fitting for the swamplike backdrop of the strange and unamusing EDC Orlando, at which I worked quite dillegently and desperately to lay get the beginning of The Festival Project—which had, admittedly after the latest run-in with Sonny/Skrillex, taken a formidable hault, if not entire backseat, as my emotions and spirituality collided into the smoldering dumpster fire of obsirdity and confusion, which I at least hoped Skrillex would find to appease his Quest.

I giggled, as I had always found Pasquale to be hilarious—some sort of keeper of secrets, the ringmaster of the world's circus — a gatekeeper to the great unknown: a time traveler of remarkable wit—I scoffed at having to enter a password, and enter a security code: I hated being back online, but here had given myself purpose; hopefully the passage would inspire something greater than just to middle my insecurities frittering away my day writing about the music producers I had dreamed up—a posthumous and unforgiving Hell in which the only thing I craved were men I couldn't touch—a wasteland of invariable differences, influenced and inapired by life itself and yet underhandedly taught the mastery of such by those of which I fawned for; Here I was, chasing my fleeting dream like a kite in the sky, perhaps even with Rotella himself at the spindle.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

BRYAN CRANSTON is scmoozing desperately to work his way into The Festival Project

Mc_bulldogsny

Or again Miami

Going to a party

Looking like salami

I mean,

I wanna MEAT ya!

Thank you God,

I needed a Sauna,

Or a Psalm—

I guess I got all of ‘em

Stuck in a song

When the door of opportunity opens up, there's no such thing as tomorrow at all.

Timestamp.

Oh my god! What the fuck is that!?

Oh my ago! It's a Pigaloo!!

A PigaLoo?!

Yeah h aww, come here!

(She happily pets the pigaloo)

Oh my God!

What is it?!

It's a PigaLoo!

I get that! I mean—what—is air

It's a like a puppy mixed with a pig, a unicorn and a kangaroo — aww hi!

(Continuesbhappily petting the PigaLoo)

Ok! Where did it come from?!

I made it up!

With Awhat!

With my imagination!

Why?!

Cause it's cute. Awww. Pigaloo.

It it cute, but I'm uncomfortable

This is from my imaginary world—my subconscious must've leaking through the inner dimensions.

This is strange…

Yeah, I was a weird .

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Maybe it's a secret weapon

Maybe it's a blessing

Maybe it's a lesson

Maybe It's a curse

Maybe it's the way I'm supposed to learn, I'm guessing

Maybe's only make It worse,

Take this day with a grain of salt,

A lemon slice

I promise you, I'll make it nice

This is my purpose here:

I

Was sent

To love you, so

Suffer your feelings unto

Me

(Empathy)

Maybe it's the sunrise

Maybe it's a surprise

Maybe it's my disguise

I don't know

Maybe it's some that place I should go

I love my ‘home'

But

I'm all alone, so—

Take this day with a grain of salt,

A lemon slice

I promise you,

I'll make it nice

This is my purpose here:

I

Was sent

To love you, so

Suffer your feelings unto

Me

(Empathy)

Maybe I'm just crazy

Maybe I'm your baby

Maybe I'll be saving planet earth

One day

Maybe I'm just dying

I'm so sick of crying

But I won't stop trying, no

Maybe you're the greatest

Maybe I'm the latest

Maybe fill my plate with

Everything I hate

Maybe I'm too late, but

Maybe I've been waiting

Lately I've been dreaming

Of us

So just

Bare with me

Certainly

In love

With you

No maybes.

Take this day with a grain of salt,

A lemon slice

I promise you,

I'll make it nice

This is my purpose here:

I

Was sent

To love you, so

Suffer your feelings unto

Me, too

(Empathy)

Maybe it's my Purple Heart

Maybe this is just the start

Maybe we are just apart

For now

Maybe it's your pretty eyes

Maybe it's the moonlight nights

Maybe I'm just star struck

Right now

Right now

Right now

Maybes make everything better.

Cross my heart
Hope to die
Wish I never seen your eyes
I'm empty
Didn't see a thing
I just heard a ringing in my ears
I heard you thought I wanted diamond rings
Nah
I'm just singing these songs you wrote to myself
I just put your name in the book on my shelf, titled
“Things I'll get to later.”
And I will,
I have Will power
And you have Will I Am's number on standby LOL (Skrill-I-Am--who said that???)
And I'll probably fly standby next time I fly...
Because...yes, I was looking right at you—
Write about it? I have to;
I'm half blue—and the music in my queue is half you,
So what am I supposed to do—?
Just not?
What am I supposed to say? I said
“Stop. Get out of my head.”
Perhaps if I had a bed, I'd let you in it
Cause you've been in my head, already—there's no closer than that
And I can't hide from the shadows you cast on the inside of my eyelids anymore than I can the darkness of my skin, or the coldness of my spirit;
My heart is just as warm as ever, though—and you can hear it...
Sunken, syncing to the rhythms of any beat loud enough to rock it out of the lucid dream I fell into
Weeks ago,
Weeks before I saw your eyes,weeks before I heard the lies that I could be,
Would be
Was chosen—
But I won't be, that's not my place in this world; my place is to see you and wonder, and watch, and wait—
And listen to the words nobody else can hear,
When your music speaks.
Maybe “I see you” was accurate—
Maybe “I hear you “is all that's left
Maybe “I feel you” about sums it up. But “I love you.” Is what I would say, And you? Never.
Because we don't know each other,
We're just in the same places a lot;
And most of those places are just,
Extended parking lots where old would gather in the twisted moonlight...
And the moonlight...
That was the other thing I saw.
Until next time.

Got me stress eating
In-n-out of meetings all day
In-n-out sounds okay
“No, you're out.”
Sounds okay
Okay—
Are you ok?
Not like Annie—
I mean, you can be—
But that's not really my thing;
Quick fling for some bling without a diamond ring
I don't fuck with that
And you can ask my ex, is we fuckin?
Nah, I'm over that
Put me on the guillotine—
Read between the lines
I was fuckin doing everything
Fuckin doing fine
I was on my grind—
Didn't have the time for no
Explaining why the fuck I go and listen to sublime
I hate the lime-light
Pay attention to me harder and
I just might
Lose it been Losin it since before it was a hit, and I admit—
I miss the shit I came up on,
I admit:
I miss the days where I had fun and
P.S.- yes I'm the best at passing a test
Don't need to study the material
Is really all here—just pay attention
Attention deficit disorder;
My auntie a hoarder but I'm borderline everything:
You feelin me?

Scary Monsters, and…

In silent desperation

Waiting for a cause

To the effect of your reflection

Pretty is, is pretty does

Nothing breaks like a heart, and

This is the heartland

Careful where you tread

Every corner has a landmine

Surpassing hunger's grip

There are monsters in your midsts

Awakened demons in the

Light and darkness calmly came upon us

Resting is the wicked

But my blindness is in hoping

Certainty was lovely

But I had to move away

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas

My wishlist is full of

Equipment I need,

To complete me:

I need me to make me

a star, but only so

I can afford to go far

And be single;

Go tell Kris Kringle

He missed me--

I don't have a chimney;

but I have a fire

Inside

My

Heart.

(Well, I guess it's a start--)

Nevermind,

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas

My tree is at Mildred E. Mathias

Gardens, so Pardon my lack of decor,

It's horrible, send me an angel

For the top of my tree cause thee

last Starr I had broke

The spirit of Christmas--

(And half of my face, so)

Half of me is so displaced,

And,

the other half's floating in space

Somewhere, and...

I miss my son Bearr, but

I can't be there--

It's unfair how

Awareness is blinding me barren

I'd fly through Mcarren today if I could,

I would. I would. I would.

...just to say Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas.

I saw myself skateboarding

Through all the hallways, here

Wearing a Santa Suit

Handing out Kandi's

And blasting my favorite

DJs; The music of

Music producers who made me…

It's crazy, but lately I'm fasting & praying--

Pretending i'd be there with Bells on in Texas--

I miss my Lexus, but

I'll drive this Pontiac, back to my boy;

That's my Ode De Joy,

Merry Christmas.

(I'm Sorry that I had to miss this,

dismiss this intention I set,

miss my favorite set--

(1, 2, 3 times, a charm)

I'll just tattoo my arm

Lost the bet,

but I can't lose this job;

I was robbed of my

Christmas, cause

Corporate owns me--

I'm ever so lonely

O Holy Night,

I mean

Oh, Holy shit:

You're right--

I forgot

To name all the Monsters and Sprites

Despite all my tries,

No surprise--

It's the light in my eyes

Dying

on this Christmas Night

Turn Off The Lights

I'll Miss Lights All Night

Merry Christmas.

Unfortunately, my Time isn't mine

these double-pay days aren't worth all i'm losing but

I'm losing my, losing my Mind

And my youth to the fact

That if I don't come back

I'll fade Back To Black

At the end of the act

and I won't have a job, so

I don't know, I guess this is my

Merry Christmas.

Chopstixx

And this is me

Eating with chopsticks, with two hands

So hungry

So empty

Waiting for someone to love me.

Screens

...and I can't see the world you live in

Silver screens and digital, digital scenes

So serene, the sea I swim in;

See the natural world.

With Light & Love

There is light, shine it

You are love, define it

333

The world is waking up

(The world is waking up)

But I was just asleep

(I was asleep/I was asleep)

If the world was just a dream

(If life is but a dream)

Then this is reality.

Death Wish

I live in this place, that I hate

Blank slate, and slated;

contemplated suicide,

once or twice

but not now

not now—

I just have a death wish.

All my past selves are colliding;

I've been inviting the chaos,

and wondering why, why, why

I must live inside of a digital box

Nothing lasts always, outside of the cloud

Nothing lasts always, mom would be proud (if I)

Nothing lasts always, look in the mirror and wonder

who myself is—

Maybe it's selfish,

but I have a death wish

I live in this space, I've created

I cannot hate it, it's comfortable,

peaceful, relaxed and though

i've been abandoned by man,

I just dance,

I don't wanna hold hands

right now,

right now

Nothing lasts always, outside of the cloud

Nothing lasts always, mom would be proud (if I)

Nothing lasts always, look in the mirror and wonder

How could I

How could I

How could I

Be myself.

Spider Bites

Sleeping with spiders
Waking to sounds of silence
I see the light
Sleeping in spider bites

It's right outside my window pane
And the pain I have inside
Combination of guilt and pride
I can't hide in this place
I almost died in this place

Now everyone thinks I'm a liar
I'd set it on fire,
Watch it burn—
The city to which I could never return.

Sleeping with spiders
Waking to sounds of silence
I see the light
Sleeping in spider bites

Sleeping In Spider Bites

Songs in my head that I can't write
Wrongs I can't right
My clothes are too tight,
I just might
I just might
Die in this place

Face it, look at this face
Disfigured and fake
Darkened and sunbaked
Disgraceful, I hate it
And maybe I waited too long
Thought I was just being strong

Now everyone thinks I'm a liar
I'd set it on fire,
Watch it burn—
The city to which I could never return.

Sleeping with spiders
Waking to sounds of silence
I see the light
Sleeping in spider bites

Sleeping In Spider Bites

Sleeping In Spider Bites

1:15 AM

Little lonely planet
Spinning on my axis
I don't need my glasses
To feel

Little lonely lady
Misses little baby
Attracted to you lately
Too real

I'm sorry, it's been cloudy
This can't be about me
In a crowd you can't see
My face

Standing in a corner
Fighting for my honor
No this isn't really
My place

I'm a space cadet
Sucked in a vacuum
And I'm losing it
Thought I could find you

The stars look so marvelous
I never thought it could be
I guess it wasn't meant
For me

Nobody's Type

Everybody got preferences,

Don't need to be checking my references

You say that I'm hella exotic

I say that your energy's toxic

Bad mind be robotic

I'm not sick—I'm not shit

It's obvious: you're oblivious

And she's envious of my

(shhhh)

Why?

Trust Fall

Trust the process, don't let go.

Synesthesia

Sensory overload

I saw the sun explode

I know I've been exposed

To those (x3) echoes

Runner Twin (True Flame)

Shh.

Don't speak,

Just feel—it's real.

I love you.

Yellow.

I sense that it's mellow...

And running away—it's ok—

I'm insane & slightly deranged...

But I love you;

If that's not true, I don't know what is—cause I know what love is.

Please forgive me for my sins—

My subconscious wins me over,

And over and over, overthinking unclearly too wearily depresses my synthesis...this unlimited energy is consumed in rage and hatred, self pity and witty phenomena nobody can seem to explain—what's wrong with my brain, to be this way?

What's wrong with my eyes, to see this way?

I see the world changing a different way—less humanity, more insanity—like me, but more of a calamity; a catastrophe, actually.

But, I love you.

I'll always love you.

I'll always love you.

I'll always love.

48 Days Later

Desperate?

That's how it gets

It's been about 48 days of this shit

I'm crazed for this shit

Been dazed.

Extra?

You betcha.

I'm not trying to hear it

Not trying to go near it

I stay clear of it

SHUT THE FUCK UP.

I need peace

And then you woke me up

My life was in pieces

And you're having fun?

Dissecting me at intersections

Sending me in opposite directions

Wasting my energy

Wasting the synergy that could be

If you would be

Listening to me as much as

I HEAR YOU.

Stay clear of me,

I don't want you near me

Do you hear me?

I need to be satisfied

Not made to cry

Or made to think I should shut up and die

(By the way, I hate black guys.)

So fire away.

Hands

Sign language

The new divine language

This anguish is vacant;

Apologies, this isn't me.

I'm squinting, trying to see

The light?

It's bright.

“Silence so I see...”

I smile pleasantly

At me

I Live Here

I live here

15 more days

I'm not paying your way

Cute trick, but okay

This is lame

...

I live here;

I heard all your lies,

By passing the time—

I'm just a passerby

But I try...not to cry.

It's a synthesis...

I meant this shit.

3 Times Is A Charm

I hate goodbyes

Cause you never said it

I hate replies

Cause you never sent it

I hate good highs, I'll admit it;

Cause I know what's below

3 times, and you know—

Something bad's coming.

I'm Dun

Been abandoned about 100 times

Not gonna take it at another person's pace

I'm not running in someone else's race

This is my place

This is my new place

Haste makes waste;

Now I'm done for.

Cryy

Just another ghost

I ain't gonna cry about it

I'm not gonna boast

I'm not gonna cry about it

(Pshhh. Burnt toast)

I ain't gonna lie about it

Almost

Not even gonna try about it

So close

I ain't gonna cry about it

I ain't gonna cry about it

Patience.

Alaska 8, LA -3

Not smart enough?

That's tough.

Not brave enough?

That's ruff

Got fat on ya?

That's fluff—

Enough stuff—have a puff.

Must Be ADD

Must be hard to be Jon

Must be hard to have 9 TVs on

Must be hard to be hard

Must be hard to fuck blondes

Must be hard to go on-and-on...

Must be.

On Me

Wear my heart on my sleeve;

If you died I would grieve you

I didn't believe you

There were two

blue planets

Dammit—

Thought I had you at

“Are you okay?”

But it's just me.

So, sorry…

it must be hard

Being on guard all the time

Don't know what your life is like

Won't try to guess

I'm just obsessed because you're blessed if this a test

I know I failed.

And if I was you—

I prolly woulda bailed

On me.

So-So

Sorry sorry,

I worry-worry

No one will love me

Like I love the world.

And I do know you—

But I do owe you an apology...

Technology...is too much for me

Wiki is the key, and I won't look 3 times.

You know who you are;

You set the bar too high.

Now it's too late

Another obsession—

I'm just a mental case.

Sorry honey. You looked at me funny...

And I fell apart. That was the start

Of another broken heart

Priest

Not suicidal

Fuck an idol

Music is like my bible

I'm liable to read it to you,

Judas.

Alaska's On Fire

Smoke & Rain

Purple mountains

Burning fire

Red sun

Lights & lazers

Celebration

Never ending

Have fun

Goodbye, I Love You

Twisted state of consciousness

This world is in

Chaos

I lost you at “hello.”

Hey Mr. Mojo Risin

There's smoke on the horizon

For miles...tired eyes don't lie;

Look at the sky—

Wondering ‘why'

I Do

This is what love is at a distance

Had you and then gone in an instant

Now you're just one of my wishes upon a flower

Danced into the midnight hour

Wondered why I turn a shade of blue

Brighter than the planet that I knew

I love you—

From a distance.

I'm sorry that I missed this chance.

Just let me have final dance.

I know the moments passed, true...

Want to think I know you like I do.

“I Fell ”

Throwing elbows

Who the hell knows

How many times I've been hit

How many times I've been choked

Exploded and exposed to the officers, the Lucifer I married first

And what's worse is

I kept my mouth shut,

even after he split it open—

I was hopin he'd at least open his heart

Instead he departed the apartment

Started

Making threats about all his regrets,

Left a mess and tested me with suicidal tendencies—

Almost beat me dead and instead of feeling anything I said?

He ran off.

Left me with scars on my head—

Blood on the walls, and the bed

Red Lips Always Lie;

You know why?

I had two babies cryin'

And he's flyin down the highway

Tryin to meet with a “friend”

Only told two people then,

Lied to the rest of the world:

Was Peggy's best girl

Till he literally rocked my world.

I said “oh, I hurt my face doing push ups” but I couldn't look up for a week, couldn't talk through my teeth, couldn't eat couldn't sleep—

Lost my power, got weak

And I think to myself

“Why did I ever go back?”

Lacked the confidence to leave—

But now my heart's on my sleeve,

And my sleeves are uneven,

Cause I'm still grievin

Might have still had two sons

If I had just packed up

And run away.

Instead, I'm alone today.

You predator, I'm the prey...

But I still pray for you.

Hunger Within

‘What are you hungry for?'

Always wanting more

One's not enough—

But two is too many.

Is anything worth remembering?

Rainbows round the sun;

Halos round the moon

“I didn't see anything...

I didn't hear shit.”

Maybe you were too lit—

Maybe it was legit magic

I thought it was fantastic, either way

I only wanted you to play

With me

Stay

With me

Dance

With me—mama Mia—

I see everything

History

Mystery...

Destroying “me”

The longest ego death that ever was,

“Never was.”

“...fuck it.”

I wish

To dismiss

Your sweet kiss on my lips

Fuck it.

Fuck it. When life gives you golf balls, you learn to drive—

And you learn to thrive taking care of people too fucked up to take care of themselves.

Top shelf liquor, top shelf buds

Everyone uses something

Everybody uses somebody

Being Aliocha

What does that mean?

I'm hearing things, it seems

Electricity, energy

My family and friends taunting me

Codeswitch

How do You go, from ‘me—to you

Did what you had to do

Did what you wanted to:

You're you.

Seems like codeswitching

Is bitching at people

While listening to people

Complain

Seems like somebody is trying to get me a label of being insane

Seems like somebody is making me crazy on purpose to play with my brain

Seems like I'm just watching shadows and ghosts listening, whispering my name

Motion, Words & Wisdom

Part paranoia—

And part defense system

Am I just sick?

Or am I a victim.

You're speaking when you're speaking

You stop thinking when I'm thinking

Meanwhile I keep repeating—

Motions, words—wisdom.

Deja

Friendly faces

Looking in my eyes—

Telling me something; yet saying another.

“What?”, I ask.

He answers “I'm here”

I'm hearing his voice...

On his presence I ponder.

I wonder how much is true:

‘Who made who?'

It's Deja Vu—I cant help it.

Obsession is insanity, I felt it—I still do

It's still you—I love you

It's fucked up, I miss you;

Goodbye then...I'll say it no issue.

16 Clubhouse Avenue

I'm in the chamber of love

The chamber of love

Looked up and and I saw you

I feel you just above ground

And I'm calling you down, down

You're the one I'm thinking of

Seagulls and doves

Hand in the sand and i draw you

If I step into the sea

I would probably drown, drown

Swaying in the sound of deafness

Can't you see that I'm so reckless

Keep me waiting leave me breathless

And I'm dancing to the sound of my heartbeat

The sound of your heartbeat

Melting away in the body heat

Keeping the Rhythm with my feet

(With harmony) Dancing to the sound of our heartbeat

Living on love street

Babe I can't wait till we next meet

Keeping the rhythm with my feet

Turned the page, I thought the show was done

I was only trying to have some fun

Lo$t

This is not the place for you

Turn away

There is something better

You are so alone in this world

We are not your friends here

Look at how you've grown

This is now, and the times have changed you

You will not be safe. . .

Go collect your thoughts

You're a ghost

Look at what you wasted

Dancing by yourself

The world has eaten all your trust

The embodiment of emptiness

And empathy, at best

Finally flew the coop

And then retreated to your nest

Go get some rest,

bird

Be seen and not heard

This world is absurd

Take away the night

Take away the light

Baby, I saw you take flight

Feeling like something's not right...

Fighting with all of your might

Turn up the lights

Feeling like somethings not right

You're not out of mind, but I beg you to get out of sight

You're blind tonight

You're too precious for this restlessness

No freedom on the guest list, this

Is one of life's great lessons:

Go home early, count your blessings

Exxchange

I swing like a

Pendulum, pendulum, pendulum

My mind is on the run

Swing like a pendulum, pendulum, pendulum

I'm in a party of one

Be

And if you love something,

Let it go

And if you lose someone

Let them free

That's all you'll ever be (is love)

That's all you'll be

You'll be

Bass Canyon 2k19

Refrain?

You're insane

We had this conversation on the plane

Ignoring all the pain inside

You watched me walk away

I'm afraid you got paid

And in the end that it was made

To make me kill myself again

This is the world that I live in

This is my universe

(You said it was ours)

This is my universe

(I watched you for hours)

This is my universe

(I sent you pretty flowers)

No you didn't

Watched you spin it

I was crying every minute

Saw your heart and I was in it

Played your part because you been it

Can't connect you to [bleeped] J** S*****

But I really can't admit it

You're a secret

You're a savior

You're my planet

You're my flavor

Honey, do yourself a favor

And just tell me what you savor

You're a genius

You're a vibe

I'm just glad that you're alive

If you won't let me join your tribe?

I guess I'll have to build my hive

Queen Bee

LSD

Made me who I'm ‘sposed to be

Haven't even dosed you see:

I don't need no ecstasy

I haven't been smoking weed

But sometimes that's the thing I need

You planted all of satans seed

The world I see is full of greed

Changed my body

Cause you put your

Hands between my thighs

And you were sposed to be my guy

I think about you all the time

And you know why

Secret passwords and some rules I can apply

When I walked by the place

It's no mistake

I peeked in through your eye

The West Wing

Take someone suicidal,

Put them in a box

Take away the freedom

Take away the sun

Laugh because they're hurting

Learn to roll your eyes

Keep them even longer

When they call out all your lies

Joyful, joyful

I cannot trust

No one's loyal

Attitude adjustment

I was spoiled rotten with

Candy and soda

But that causes everything, everything to start over

Pick your poison

Prescription or addiction

Look to the horizon

Never see the sun

Venice Venture

I loved you the moment I saw you;

With wonder I finally saw you—

Where is your soul?

I wanted to hold you,

I wanted to keep you whole

Jumped into a hole and thought of you

Jumped into a hole, and—

I saw there were two

I wanted to fill it...

But wanted to feel you, too.

Pod

Of magic and memories

Wonder and light

Have you picked all your pennies

Washed all your stones

Counted your blessings

Rested your bones?

God rest your soul

Praise The Skyy

I missed work,

But I found the rainbow

I found myself

But I dropped my halo

I don't know about tomorrow

But my futures so bright, I—

Might just be the light, I—

Might just see the sun-light

Through the cloudy days

Amazing,

Praise the sky

Origins

When we were the ocean (echo)

Before Father Time

Remembrance of the divine

It just was

Nothing and everything

Happened at once

Just because

It was all just an accident

The happiest accident

The world

We were

We are

We are still here

I am

You are.

We are still here.

You Are What You Wiah

Be careful what you wish for

All of them come true

Be careful what you wish for

Nothing is ever untrue

If it's there

In your heart—in your soul

In the place that dreams are made

In the place that you were born from

Your spirit speaks,

So listen:

Do not let go of what you know

You have always known it

Wishes

Wishes

Wishes are your truth

Be careful what you wish for

Your wishes become you.

AlllStaR

We're not finished yet, Chuck Taylor

The journey hadn't ended—

You've been on this expedition—

And we've walked for miles and miles

We have danced below the sunlight

Even glided with the moon, right in the

Heart and in the eye

Of something-city.

It never really mattered, being pretty

Till it hit me: I could prob'ly buy the world, if I were free.

Back to Abbot Kinney

There is something we forgot

The plot thickens like my waistline—

All the sugar they refine, a goldmine

Rotting minds and taking time away—

Life away—if sad you eat, then sad you'll stay;

Don't say it, today is just you cheating on yourself

Your shelf life's not as long as your lifeline—

Each palm a psalm,

To each his own

To teach, to own

It's a lonely, road

But if only, only...

(From Holes)

‘If only, if only the woodpecker sigh...

The bark on the tree was as soft as the skies...

As [the] wolf waits below, both hungry and lonely—he cries to the moon ‘if only, if only'

All is Well

We don't need another song about...

Because they're all about...

And all my songs are about...

Left it open,

But it slammed behind me

And I loved the sound

Because it was meant to be

Left it cracked,

Like the egg that I am

And I am

in my own shell

All is well

All is well

Butterflyy

I am beside myself

I am inside myself

Abiding by rules

I might have made

Siiickness

Bless You/ Fuck You

Depends on the day

Achoo—sorry—

I hope you're okay.

Left on time,

but they—

Found a way

—for making me

Pay for it

Pay for it

Pay for my way to get paid

But

Half of their shit is delayed

(Bus-Bus/ Bus-Bus) [a waltz] (2/3) (Traiiin?)

But

Half of me probably made

Up

My mind

“I'm fine.”

I'm not.

But—

This life makes me want to give

Love

“What's up?”

I'm down, ‘whaddup'?

I need some friends

Fill up (J fry, am I—am I—am...)

My

Cup

No.

Love?

No.

The plug?

No.

Sorry for bugging you, but

“What?”

‘I'm up—what?'

“Wake up,

Love—“

Love?

...

R3AL

What is love/

What is real?

What is love/

What is real?

What is love/

What is real?

What is love/

What is real?

SUPA

And

You can't wear your heart on your sleeve

With an S on your Chest

But you have to believe

You can do it

Western Lights

Diffractions in traffic

Aurora Borealis

Love The World

Hate my job

Hate my face

Hate my life

Hate this place

Love the world

Hate my life

Hate my hair

Hate my thighs

Love is there

Love the world

Believe in

Everything, have something

To wake up for

Believe in

Everything, it's only

Time to go

When you say so, so

Love the world

Heart—Sleeve

Hate myself

Hate myself

Hate myself

Love you

Hate myself

Hate myself

Hate myself

Love you

Hate myself

Hate myself

Hate myself

Love you

More and more

Don't Go

Like the sunlight reflects off the snow

I just hope that you know

That I love you

Don't go

I love you—

Don't go

I love you—

You know

And we're just two gaseous planets passing by

Twinkling I'm your eyes

Ships passing in the night

Wannabee

i wanna be alone

i wanna be alone

i wanna be alone

Don't wanna be lonely

Need someone to hold me

I only need one

But since there's no one...

Stare into the sun

I just wannabe—

Wanna be

Wanna be

Wanna be

(Wanna be?)

Done

One

Just one me

Just one world

Just one tree;

Just one girl

M&C

Misery loves company

Misery loves company

Misery loves company

And misery is company—

You're losin' me.

Planets

And we're just two gaseous planets passing by

Twinkling I'm your eyes

Ships passing in the night

Noontime

Take me to the Grammys

I wanna meet the family

I'm tryna keep it classy

But the world is pretty trashy

My license is a class C

I'm average as I can be

I want the presidency, so

Somebody educate me

Back To, Unh

I'm late for my train

Plain Jane, plain insane

Look up, I see a plane

I eat weight and then I gain it

Clarissa, I can't explain it

I wax it and then I wane it

Phone Home like I'm Little Wayne, bitch

I say ‘bitch' but then I hate it

I hate bread but then I ate it

I love cheese and so I grate it

I love food and so I plate it

Love DRuGs I love getting faded

But lately the world is jaded

So

(Sung, nah-nah)

I stay sober—found a four leaf clover

Frozen in October

Alaska getting colder

When they say it's over,

I linger,

Get closer

I need more exposure

Cause I am getting older

This instagram is closure

No selfies and no posers

Close your—mouth please

Lose your spouse please

Because he took your house keys

(Choking sounds, gasping for air)

I need fucking therapy—

A doctor who won't lock me up

A friend who won't block me out for keeping up with my fitness

Do you get this?

No. You don't know.

Nobody really understands my self destruction plan

But I don't really ‘need' a man,

Because I wrote

“I am”

And,

“And.”

And—this is my Land

‘This is our world

This is our sand' (box)

Thinking about getting dread

Locks

I don't need headphones I need

Aux—

‘I want to hold your hand'

Awwwwsss—

Walks on the beach

I am a beached whale

I am a teacher

I'm gonna set sail

Build me a church and steeple and steal from the people

So tax free so evil

Evil knieval midevil

Shirts

I was trippin on shirts

Avoiding them flirts, the worst

Laying me down in a hearse

I never rehearse

Live my whole life in reverse—

I'm Benjamin button

It hurts-hurts

The world is George Lucas's first,

Work

From something to nothin,

It works, church

From First and to Last

Every verse, verse

Somebody come help break this

Curse curse

Demons in my universe—verse

Remember you asked who came first—first

(Two times?)

...it was the egg.

Go break a leg.

I don't have to beg

I'm going to Vegas.

Bitch I'm gonna be famous

Bitch I'm already A-List

Bitch I'm friends with the greatest

Sun and the Moon and the stars were my latest design

‘Bitch you look fine'

I promise, I'm not

Promises, promises

Thought I forgot

©racked

Hacked

Maybe because I'm black

Maybe because they thought I'd attack

Maybe cause I'm stacked with knowledge—I acknowledge I wanna go back to college to polish it

I don't know what to call this shit;

Trying to be an activist but I legit don't have the time or a spare fucking dime

Bus lines wasting my time

Wrote the bus song on my own vibe

I don't write songs all of the time,

But when I do, I use blue and my

‘Do' frame of miiind.

Gotta find the right sound pack

Gotta get a new backpack

Gotta be myself, that's whack

I can't go back

I can't take that

Can't fake facts: I've been hacked

For no reason, that's stupid

I left right on time

Apple reads minds now,

Google makes plans now

I hope google plans how to explain how they made me insane picking at my brain—

Need my phone to get by,

Need my GPS or I digress, I'll leave my fucking phone at home—

Cause I can find north, of course—-

West is the beach and this beached whale sprouted legs and they can

Walk for miles and miles

It might be awhile to apply my airline miles,

But I got different styles or writing

I'm sick of fighting with myself—

Pull the trigger already

“No, you've already written too much about such and such, so—that would expose those who only hope you turn up your nose and, put a gun down your throat”

Oh.

Started working on my suicide note,

And I wrote about how, now, I can't even go around without the sound of the 3 people dragging me down in my stupid

Little

Head.

Nam Dama Mi

That's an inner thought:

Keep it to yourself

Put it on the shelf,

You're a mad man

Do you remember me?

I am the stars you see

And the answer that you seek,

Is the blinding light.

Fight the tide,

You're hiding—

Wasting the days

Resting

Rest In Peace to the

Rest of them,

Following everyone's footsteps

They're practically sheep, but

You keep keeping up with them

Friends?

If only, if only.

Depends on

If you're feeling lonely,

I guess.

Do you remember yourself?

She was healthy

Do you remember her death?

Falling victim to captive

Both weakened and wealthy

Was he, who

Could see you

Practically couldn't believe you

Who was that?

Inherited panic attacks from your past—

Life goes on.

Dos

Mi like

Viven LA or en Vegas?

Dos

You a writer or you tryna do this music?

Dos

Feel like eating pizza, chocolate, tacos mames?

Dos

Is dat hoe in buena o es muchas mala?

Dos

Laundromat

Undercover 88

Crown Vic

Victory is mine

History is mine

Hollywood bungalow

Yucca & Vine

Fine line between

champagne & wine

White lie

When I say “I'm fine”

Fine dining,

I have no spine

Calling the bank cause my card was

Declined

Ladder I climb

I'm falling behind

The children born after me

Never you mind

It's such a catastrophe

Body & Mind

Listen to Skrillex to help me unwind

I need my glasses,

Please help me find them

I cannot see you—

I'm Daphne I'm blind

*gasp* “Are you okay?!”

No—not today

I fast and I pray that you won't go away

I fast and I pray cause I need you to stay

Good-hey, good, I need you to play

My favorite songs when I go to the rave

My favorite favorite favorite place

One day they'll probably send me to space

Because I belong to an alien race

Cree-Cree phone home...

I hate my phone

I hate the phony

Instagram hoes

I hate my body

Wanna go home

Death is a freedom

When we all fall asleep,

Where do we roam?

Noam Chomsky

Write me a poem

Cute pomsky—

Wish I could show em.

Dog show in dogtown

You know what's up

The tide is down

I said surf's up

If up is down

Enough's enough

I'll prob'ly drown

Out

Sounds

How

Now

Brown

Cow

Tell Father Time

That time is now

There is no past

There is no “how”

There is no “try”

There's only “do”

There is no “I”

There is no “you”

The universe is 2+2

It all adds up

It's all in view

You know what's up

And I do too

For you are I, and I am you

Absolutely: whooo are you?

I am, he is,

You are, he is,

You are

I am

We are

I am

They are

I am

Me.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Sunny, sunny days

Happy birthdays

60 earth days, or so

I've been crazy, so...

Here it goes.

I chose you,

And I don't suppose you know

Cause I don't know you—

Don't owe you an apology,

But apologies, please accept these

Tokens of appreciation

For all the elation, and sensations

I'm so sorry.

The complexity of energy astounds me—

Came around on day 2 of EDC just to see you,

And I missed it.

Lost it cause I lost track of time trying to find the reason why a certain guy wouldn't leave my side—

And that's fine; he has a nice vibe

But I've a one-track mind for your type of guy

I'm kind of blind, but

I can read between the lines—

Every other song was a sign

That you could be my guide;

Already supplied me with doses of medication; alien communication I thought—not really, you're just really good at being smart

So...

Thank you

I'm sorry

I love you

I miss you

I was misused and abused, which confused me...like I said, sincerely—

I'm sorry, Sonny.

Sorry, sorry.

You might find it funny, but nobody loves me the way I love music.

I'm too sick to cope,

And I hope you're okay.

I really hope you're okay.

I really hope you're okay.

Cause now I just can't get it off my mind—didn't mind whoever's hands between my thighs—

The vibe attracted me.

Disastrously drunk, perhaps,

But I collapsed at the showers—

Waited in line bout an hour hearing

“Skrillex-skrillex-skrillex”

Nose to the ground, constantly looking around, thinking:

“Well they couldn't be talking about me...”

Because you wouldn't be thinking about me—

I've had dogs barking at me for weeks, i think, so—

Please excuse me when I say

I'm crazy for you.

Don't have a clue about your personal life—

But a guy with a wife is off limits.

I don't have a clue, true. You could be anything. Wikipedia would know, but I won't go there—

And I wouldn't go over the rail for the purple water bottle—

Went full-throttle on no-energy...

What can I say?

Sorry again.

Sorry my life depends on your music—I can't mend your heart or recommend a friend—just another loose-end to this never ending story.

I don't know who you are,

And you might know who I am—

Thought I saw you dancing as I laid down—thought I was making your face out...

Thought I could be your predecessor, but really I'm just a word processor and don't possess any talent—granted, I've taken for granted and taken advantage of too much time

Undressed you with my eyes the first time I saw you spinnin—I'm just living life in my own skin, and I've never been “the chosen one”

Which is why I run away so fast...

When things are too good to be true,

I remember all my shades of blue

I thought maybe you knew about the two planets. I thought maybe that this was your blanket. I thought maybe that sweater was a letterman's jacket

To whatever team you're on—

But that super hot blonde with the best outfit on...

Seemed your type.

When I'm right, I'm right.

And when I'm wrong, I'm wrong.

And it's always Sunny in Philadelphia...

But it's always Sonny on iTunes

And always Skrillex on Spotify

Mr. Mojo didn't die,

He lives inside our hearts.

You started it.

I wanted it too badly.

Ray bands and your hands under my covers...

We could be lovers

In a perfect world.

Thank you for the music. I'm listening.

Anna

The prettiest girl in the world came to me and she said

“I wanna look like you.”

And I could not believe her,

Let my energy deceive her

Cause I, cause I

Wanted to look like her more.

She said “ohh, I want hair like that”

And I watched her stare, like that

Thing on my head was a

Bright shooting star; haily's comet

I'd not let myself believe it

Cause I wanted to look like her, more.

Anna, you perfect thing

Anna, the prettiest girl that I've ever seen

Anna, please don't—

Close those pretty brown eyes,

Your manna.

Anna, you're what's the matter with me

Can't you see?

I wanna look just like you.

Intense (Like Camping)

Moon shaped eyes

Shadowcast lies

She silently cries

As her memory dies

Erase it away

Just live for today

Don't cry

Just learn to lie better

You know you're better off

When you're off on your own

There's nobody there, you're just dreaming

It's not really cold, you're just sleeping—

It never happened, you're dying inside,

Keeping a secret, holding your pride back tonight second guessing your eyes—

It's no surprise

Slept until sunrise.

Just Know

Wherever you are in the world

Whatever you do with your life

Whoever you take as your wife

Know that I love you

I'm sending you wishes of love

Protections from heavens above

I am the owl and the dove

So just know that I love you

It's too much

It's too soon

Saw your face

Met my doom

I've been pacing in my room

Know that I

Know that I—

— cannot hear your name again

The world that I've been living in

Is filled with taunting, torturous

And ridiculing, I cant stand it,

I—

Stand it, I—

Never had to clutch a pillow

admire weeping willows;

Just know.

Tears will never ever tell your secrets

I told you it was sacred,

I would keep it;

Just know.

Can't reach out

Drowning in sorrow and self doubt

Would hate to

Be left on

The list of millions

Hoping they can have you

So I don't hope

I'm holding onto rope

Unwrap the heartstring

Hope it's long enough

To tie onto the chandelier

You've seen me so much this year

I'm hanging myself, hanging on

Hanging on

To you…

So just know that I love you.

In Hate [With Myself]

Fat is ugly

As I am

As I am

Black is ugly

As I am

As I am

Would I believe in myself

If I had beauty?

Would I believe in myself

If I was happy?

Would I believe in myself

Maybe, not likely

I just want to die in peace

At peace

With peace

Just as much as

I have

Love

To give

Forgive, me,

Love

For I am in

Hate with myself

Hate myself

I'm in hate with myself

Maybe too late for myself

Maybe too late for myself

Hate is ugly

As I am

As I am

Fear is ugly

As I am

As I am

Life is ugly

As I am

Thank You, You're Beautiful

I

Hate

The ugly

I see

When

I look in the mirror,

But

Thank you

Because you

Are beautiful.

I

Hate

The sound

Of

My voice

When I'm singing

Over the radio

But thank you

Because you are

Beautiful

Something inside me

Is fighting

The blinding

Light

I so wish I was whole

I'm the whole world

I'm told to stay positive

But I am positive

Someone wants me

Dead within the decade

Mother Earth

I am unpredictable

Superstitious

Unreliable

Be my witness

I'm not Rick

I'm toxic

I'm nauseous

And conscious

CAKE

Any food is food, to a man who's holding hunger;

Hunger's only boredom to the man who carries stress;

Freedom is the wish of every man who works for wishes—

Woman carries manhood in the pockets of her dress.

Smog Check

Back to blue skies

Under clouds of waste

That we can't see

But we created

All the world is somewhat jaded

So get faded—

wade in the wata;

Pollution is notta problem

When you got a lot of em

When you got a lot of em

Life is everlasting

Blur (Lifeless En Motion)

To be lifeless in motion;

A cascading glimpse

At the thought of emotion

Miss me by inches

No wish of devotion.

Sifting so silently;

Lifeless In motion.

Judgement Day

My body was a trial

Crazy, Stupid, Hungry, Tired

It hurts so bad

You're on the road

And I'm alone

I just stuff my fat face with

Anything that might

Make me feel loved

Everyone knows that I'm (crazy)

Every one knows that I'm (stupid)

Everyone knows that I'm (hungry)

But no one knows that I'm TIRED

Of living this lie

So I wish I would die

In my sleep

But I keep on repeating

This cycle

It's sweeping my mind

I find it hard to believe

If I meet you again

In your eyes and you'd smile

I smile for your voice and

Yes

I'll always love you

Shame on me

Everyone knows that I'm (crazy)

Every one knows that I'm (stupid)

Everyone knows that I'm (hungry)

But no one knows that I'm TIRED

But no one knows that I'm

But no one knows that I'm

But no one knows that I'm

On my last lifetime

Home Is Where The Art Is

I have panic attacks on the bus every morning—

Google maps throwing me off and often,

losing my mind trying to find where I'm going;

There's no place like roaming

There's no place like home

I have heart attacks leaving the conference room, coffee stand—

Hand-in-Hand with the grand that's

Bi-weekly directly deposited, hoping—

There's no place for coping

There's no place like home

I wander by walls wearing eyes, making footsteps

Unlikely I'm leading the blind, all behind me

I'm finding the line is too fine to determine

My side

Side-by-side mirror images,

Interesting concept:

“Conception at birth”

How abstract, subtracting

Distractions, passing concessions

& sundries covering all my expressions

Of joy

Enjoying

Chos in color

Home is where the art is.

Bouts of insomnia,

Battling bullet wounds;

Inspiration's a gift of disaster—

But soon, knives forks and spoons,

A lamp for my room, and a broom, too;

Home is where the art is.

I'm in the cocoon, for now—

Still learning how to be beautiful,

Creating a canvas on my back, seeing—

Everything, everyday.

On my way

On my way

On my way

to being

Home.

Fr33

Just the idea of being free

Makes me in love with me

Catch The Sun

When we all fall asleep

And the sun drifts away

Some people stay up

To Make up

Theworld of next day

There is no ‘tomorrow'

So follow yourself

Swallow it whole,

The World:

You are the whole

Thing.

Open your eyes--

All of them.

Brownies & Lemonade

I see lemonade everywhere

But where are the brownies

(Am I the brownie?)

On my honor, I--

Will do.

Nike shoes, maybe in a shade of blue

I'm myself, because of U

Saw through new eyes, today

Something I never saw, at all

And I fall in love

With love

With love--

With

Love

WIth

U

(Remember Me?)

Whose Moon Is It, Anyway?

All the bad vibes are alive on this moonlight night

At least this is my last, last life

BLU World

I have been lost in a world of blue,

wishing to share the world with you.

Watch it turn from blue—

to brown—

to blue

Drowned in the future

Doubt there's a future

Now is the future, they say

They're watching you throw it away.

HOWSLAW

Superstitions coming true

Tripped over a bag—

I just wanted a flag or a backpack

I went back for you

[For]

Fasting and praying for

Fasting and praying for

Fasting and praying for

Justice

Fasting and praying for

Fasting and praying for

Fasting and praying for

Life

Fasting and praying for

Fasting and praying for

Lost and Forgotten Spirits

Fasting and praying for

Fasting and praying for

You my love

I am truth, I am light

I am freedom in the night

I am watching demons fight

(In the night, they take flight)

There's a spirit in my

(Spirit in my)

head and I can

Hear it, In my bed

the recollection of

a voice I truly love

Fasting and praying and

fasting and praying and

fasting and praying and….

Forgive me.

Sunny Sunday

I sent some love your way

In my own world I can stay

Hidden, Kept secret

Give Victoria the secret,

You may wonder if she'll keep it

the devil gave her all the weapons

to be cloaked in all the beauty of

a body fit for lingerie

angels never go away

demons dance and play

and wait for you to make mistakes

Sheep adorned with lace

perfect body, perfect face

make Charisma avoid Karma

and put Pleasure in her place.

Find your place and keep it

Lock away your secrets

You may not believe it, but:

The only world is you

Sunny Sundays

Crashing waves to the west

And I wish you the best

I just wish you the best

A.D.D.E.R.A.L.L.

And they won't give me Adderall

Cause then I would rule the world

Then I could rule the world

‘Who does this girl think she is, caring?'

They won't give me things that would

help me to mend the world

Cause that would mean

theirs is ending

Fiends can't be friends

and reflections, expectations

of men in the eye of the beholding

blind, leading

wild, tides—moonlight

fight with the demons

he sent in the night,

You're right:

Stay in tonight.

And they won't give her adderall

because they know that she would fall

in love with herself

“Just kill yourself.”

She came back to haunt herself—

wanted off this planet,

poisonous planet

you poisoned humanity

(poisoning, poisoning)

Any Moore

I don't wanna be me, anymore

I just missed my chance to be free

because ugly is wearing your face out

Half of the time, I just space out

Cadet Kelly, hellishly envious

Losing respect, losing time—

I need more.

MaybEmpathy

Maybe it's a secret weapon

Maybe it's a blessing

Maybe it's a lesson

Maybe It's a curse

Maybe it's the way I'm supposed to learn, I'm guessing

Maybe's only make It worse, so

Take this day with a grain of salt,

A lemon slice

I promise you, I'll make it nice

This is my purpose here:

I

Was sent

To love you, so

Suffer your feelings unto

Me

(Empathy)

Maybe it's the sunrise

Maybe it's a surprise

Maybe it's my disguise

I don't know

Maybe it's some that place I should go

I love my ‘home'

But

I'm all alone, so

Take this day with a grain of salt,

A lemon slice

I promise you, I'll make it nice

This is my purpose here:

I

Was sent

To love you, so

Suffer your feelings unto

Me

(Empathy)

Maybe I'm just crazy

Maybe I'm your baby

Maybe I'll be saving planet earth

Maybe I'm just dying

I'm so sick of crying

But I won't stop trying, no

Maybe you're the greatest

Maybe I'm the latest

Maybe fill my plate with

Everything I hate

Maybe I'm too late, but

Maybe I've been waiting

Lately I've been dreaming

Of us

So just

Bare with me

Certainly

In love

With you

No maybes.

Take this day with a grain of salt,

A lemon slice

I promise you, I'll make it nice

This is my purpose here:

I

Was sent

To love you, so

Suffer your feelings unto

Me too

(Empathy)

Maybe it's my Purple Heart

Maybe this is just the start

Maybe we are just apart

For now

Maybe it's your pretty eyes

Maybe it's the moonlight nights

Maybe I'm just star struck

Right now

Right now

Right now

Maybes make everything better.

FAT

Eat-a

bowl -a

Granola

Better than a coca-cola

That's ebola

no hola

Get fatter than my areola

Bird's (The) Word

Wha-da-da-dup?

I mean, “surf's up!”

I mean Red Cup

I mean, ‘All The Way Up'

SIKE.

What in the fuck do I look

Like

Not like a balla not like

Mike;

Psyc evaltuation

Nation is evil

Doesn't want people

Equal--(equal)

Has less calories

But salaries at companies

can't cover these

Insurance fees and premiums

Spotify can read my mind,

As if it was a medium

Shirt size fluctuate

From XS to Medium

XS was super dumb

Maybe they remember us:

Two big ass bitches

In 3x mini Dresses

Dressed to impress the emporer:

‘Impalas Only!'

Gazelles for the lonely guys--

No surprise there:

Thunder Thighs weren't in season

The reason we couldn't get past red velvet lines

Cause we like red velvet cake

No mistakes made

‘Make way--comin thru!'

Best friend pushed us through

To see You (You, You, You (All I ask of you, sampled)

BOO-WHO

I think you're a ghost

I think i'm an owl

I love you the most

An alien hosted

Me

SupaCree

Supecedes--super seeds

Everything

Everything's everything

Bring Me backstage

In the age of backpage

I hit the backspace

Space cadet

No Regrets

Just regurts

Regurgitate

Yogurt--

Kiefer after reefer

Refferal this squirrel

To talk therapy, apparently

Body dysmorphia got to me

Honestly,

I just need surgery.

Everything's sugary

Food isn't real to me

Doesn't appeal to me

Banana peel to me

Slip-and-fall

Monkey-see-monkey-do-

Anything

chunky-too-funky

I can't wear anything

I heartraves puts out;

I'm not a circus ring

Sometimes I feel like Penelope

Elephante, Killa remembering

All the things

I would sing

I would ring bells

Drinking Sunny-D

Juice--

Chance had the answer

my favorite rapper,

Had to be, probably

Drake is an actor.

Study the past for

future prediction,

I never fit in

I never fit in

Tripp pants before,

But I can't afford them anyway.

Anyway,

What did you say,

In that song?

Man, it's been a long time

Since ‘09

07 was heaven--

Last time I was president

LDS resident

Someone was heaven sent

[sample: Christmas Present, The Rocket Summer]

Going on tour and shit

I'm starting to resent

Everything too recent

I'm on decline, descent

Disintegrated and separated

Soul from my Spirit.

Do you hear it?

It's me.

August 4th, 1985

Stop. Wait

Don't look back.

Just. Disappear;

You're not here, ghost

and I'm sorry, I love you

But thank you for making me

Open my

Open my

Eyes

(...)

White Lies

White Noise

White guys;

Pretty Boys

Superman--

No disguise

Secret Identity

Secretly

Secretly

Hidden in secrecy

I. Just.

Can't look back.

You. Reappeared.

Got my own fanny pack.

Don't mean to boast, but--

I kept your diplomacy

Thank you for making me

hate coke and ecstasy

Open my

Open my

Eye, please.

Fasting & Praying [working title]

Fasting and praying and

Fasting and praying and

Fasting and praying for

Me to

Finally be free

White Lies

White Noise

White guys;

Pretty Boys

Superman--

No disguise

Secret Identity

Secretly

Secretly

Hidden in secrecy

[Waltz Love]

Bless You/ Fuck You

Depends on the day

Achoo—sorry—

I hope you're okay.

Left on time,

but they—

Found a way

—for making me

Pay for it

Pay for it

Pay for my way to get paid

But

Half of their shit is delayed

(Bus-Bus/ Bus-Bus) [a waltz] (2/3) (Traiiin?)

But

Half of me probably made

Up

My mind

“I'm fine.”

I'm not.

But—

This life makes me want to give

Love

“What's up?”

I'm down, ‘whaddup'?

I need some friends

Fill up (J fry, am I—am I—am...)

My

Cup

No.

Love?

No.

The plug?

No.

Sorry for bugging you, but

“What?”

‘I'm up—what?'

“Wake up,

Love—“

Love?

…

And...I'm In…

Love with another ghost

(with another ghost)

I'm in love with

The world but

The world is

Running out of

(running out of)

Running out of

Love

Maybe i'm selfless—

If I have a death wish…

No;

I'm just an artist, i'm starving

Alarmingly me.

-SunnÏ Blū/Novä Raïnn/SupaCrēē

More

I don't wanna be me anymore

I can't live in this life, can't afford myself

I just don't want to

But i'm going to have to collect

All the pieces

This is too much, I can't be

such-and-such

or-so-and-so

and so I cry

I don't lie down, once i'm up, but

my coffee cup's been corrupted

I just don't feel it any

more

more

More?

I don't wanna be me, anymore

I'm so tired of her,

tired of hurting

tired, and worthless

what's a mistake worth?

Losing your earnings and earrings on dance floors.

“You're so gorgeous.”

No, not anymore.

More often then not,

I'm the pot calling the kettle black

Actors attract with charisma,

I can't, but—

I give love

Love—

Just take it,

I'll make

more

more

More.

823

Bait and switch

Magic happened

Hold me captive, captain

Hollering at Jolly Roger

I feel just like Mr. Rodgers

This is not my neighborhood

I'm good, when I'm good

But I haven't been good

In about eighty three days

It's been crazy, but

Daisy, I'm driving you—

miss me.

Misty eyes, every night

no surprise, there

an interesting pair, are we—

Are we?

Absolutely. I live in certainty

This is our universe

We are exactly as,

we're supposed

to be.

Are we?

Can't believe it's been eighty three.

Have you forgotten me?

Possibly, not likely

I think you just might be

scared?

afraid?

I think you're not ready

keeping your eye on me

watch the way you think

Black—and blue—and pink

Overthink, think, overthink

Eighty three

Work 8 to 3, release

Please, I need to leave an hour early

How can this be?

I looked in your eyes with anxiety

What could you want from me?

Why

Why do I love you so?

So, so much love—

Why?

Why do I love you so much, love?

This is a ‘look-but-don't-touch' love

A ‘never-you-mind' ‘such-and-such' love.

Why won't you tell me goodbye, love?

Pick up the phone just to try, love?

The tension is making me cry, love...

You know I just want to get high, love.

Why?

Why am I like this?

Why can't I fight this?

I wanted to try this, to see what it's like—

I don't like it. I don't like it at all

I'm beginning...beginning to fall,

Back in love, love—why?

This is above love.

Why, love—

Why do I love you so much?

MoonSun

And Ooh--

You don't need me, like I need you

Oh--

I know you miss me,

Like I miss you

but

Ohh--

You don't need me, like I need you

Oh--

THere's no tellin

Nothing that I wouldn't do for you

But you don't need me, like I need you

Elohim

You are so

Perfect

Sparkling eyes

Silouhette Smile

So Wonderful

Your voice could carry me miles

And I'd

Follow you

Follow you

Into the blue world

You are so

Beautiful

Practically perfect in every way

Pratically perfect, that's all I can say--

Practically perfect; and thank you for making my

Day

today

I wish you everything

I wish you peace

I wish you joy and love

I hope you keep it

Please don't remember me

I am only a ghost--but--

What you are to me

Is so sweet

Have this: keep t

Here, I hve this….

Secret.

(Whispered: I love you.)

You are so

You are so

You are so

You are so

Lovely, love

I'm not in love, but--

Love, I--

Love you

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Arturo's keyboard mini lab

MkII

Hurt me so good

Baby daddy

Make me wanna scream

Don't you know I love it

Roller coaster

Hands around my throat

You choke me.

Throw me off my boat

I'm drowning in your ocean

W

Love me love me

(Moans)

Living in grace,

In your glory

In the shadow of your talents

And the glamor of your essence,

Whatever that is.

I should just

Sell that bitch

She work hard

Slave so strong, baby

I should just

Sell that bitch

Have me a picnic

Take her to market

Honest

Slave work hard, baby

Slave work hard

She work hard,

For no money

#1s

(Lols)

one hell of a parable

An attack on my psyche

KILLYOURSELF.

*COUGH*

Find your way somewhere and

JUMP

For the fun of it

JUMP from the top of the rock

(If they let you in!)

JUMP from the

*COUGHS*

Oh,

Just kill yourself,

Jesus

I gotta go,

I gotta go again

What do you know

What do you know again?

Right when you show up

I wanna throw up

Or show you the—

Drums

COUGH

Or just kill yourself

Jump right in front of the train,

I dare ya

Come along way from the Uptown A,

No!

we're going down

We're going going down and about

Sabatoge on my body

Attack of the zombies

The gangstakers cough

But I wonder who pays them

On government money?

But no m debt forgiveness

If freedom is slavery

What do you call this?

I warned you,

Stay out of the politics—

Focus on music

You'd said you'd take care of all of it

Then left me stranded.

I like being strangled

I like being robbed

I like falling off of my skateboard

[UMPH]

I left blood there

It's all strays and ashtrays

Where he stays,

But it's okay

Cause these days,

It's all crazy

Eyes glazed,

And all lazy

It's awful:

I'm all fucked up,

This alt-right movement

New wave racists

Consuming me,

Blue eyes and hatred.

They say I'm all wrong

Just for being born,

But I think we're all one

Even if they don't

Plus,

I'm not dark on purpose.

Now you renrmver me?

I remembered you the first time!

Not very well-

Passion Play

I don't feel so good

I think I'm off my rock,

I got a lot to talk about

But not a lot of knowledge

You know that

Everyone, even God suffers

I got a lot of words and worries

All I want is a surfboard

Carve my name out of all of em

Arboles

I'm lost

I could post all this

Or get my nails polished

So much for martyrs

And mothers in morning for ever

I cry every dawn until morning

Fir all the love lost

Add it's all up, that's always

And these days, in haides

I'm a lady in shades from LA

And nobody loves me

Not even my baby

I'm so blazed,

I'm taking it straight to my vein,

On the train in front of all these strangers

*gasp*

Are you okay?

*gasp*

A haphazard orgasm

As my organs shut down

Out of automatic on autopilot

Or a test, maybe

Of

The Uptown A

Gangstaklers in all white

It's alright

I might be uptight

Or up BBC all night writing, in spite of my

*coughs*

Ravenous appetite

Fuck, what's an EXtra small for

If they make extra extra small

And all I want is a hug from

1, two, three—

coughs

All of em!

I just want someone to love me

That doesn't think less of the

Blacks and the browns that aren't

Barbies, and adonises

The rest of us are ugly

So what?

Just discard us in the Bronx and far rockaways,

(Jamaica! Ugh!)

“What the fuck did you just say to me?! “

Bother brawl on the bus

Another. Recording for my opera

Or symphonies, turn coughs in the harmonies

Hopping up hoping the cops aren't watching me

Ok, okay—

The train seems to be coming

As quickly as I need

But I still need bravery

Hey, it's the brain dead nobody

Said somebody—

I turned 5 dollars to 20

And 20 to a million

By wishing on

Anything other than.

Whatever Horace me this body

Cause nobody loves me

I'm almost invisible

Brimming with envy

And needing attention

And money to turn into

Energy

He said

“I didn't mean to hurt you—

Or hate you”

She said,

“I didn't mean to have coffee

At half past 11 pm—

But here we are again—

Here we are again

It's gets harder and harder to love again

This is the ark of our story

What is that

*sniffs* what is what

What is that

*sniffs*

That face.

Just *snifs.* my face.

Are you crying?

{crying) mm—mm. *sniffs*

Don't fucking cry— if you fucking cry—I'll fucking kill you.

(Very ugly cry)

Don't ugly cry!

(Even uglier cry)

Ugh!

*shoots with pistol*

*dies instantly*

Fuck!

—He'll be back.

[Dillon Francis just had that look on his face.]

Like

(But worse.)

Starr Michael Roberts - May all his curses and his karma be returned to him; may he suffer now all the damage he has done unto others tenfold; return immediately every demon and all dieties against him in karma and chaos; let Starr Michael Roberts wither and diminish under his own doing. Let his wifebeating father Michael John Roberts be cursed forever for beating his wife to suicide. Let this generational cycle of abuse be broken and it's effects not passed on though time. Let this counter curse protect all affected and break the cycle of abuse and harm.

So mote it be.

Amen.

Starr Michael Roberts is a fat alcoholic pedophile wifebeater. May all his curses and his karma be returned to him; may he suffer now all the damage he has done unto others tenfold; return immidiately every demon and all dieties against him in karma and chaos; let Starr Michael Roberts wither and diminish under his own doing. Let his wifebeating father Michael John Roberts be cursed forever. Let this counter curse protect all affected and break the cycle of abuse and harm.

So mote it be.

Amen.

The coughing had stopped for awhile but had suddenly returned, as if I had done something wrong—but it only seemed that the more I paid attention to myself and my health, improving my life and my habits, this energy followed, as if trying to keep or return me to the Hell from which I had been born, raised, and married into— only to overcome by luck if anything, albeit strength and wit; the cycle of abuse was still the ever present cycle—and the more I read about the psychological mindset of a psychopath, the more I had come to realize my own pitiful narssism, as if it had become a contagious burden— which I had tried to thrwart at every angle, of course—but as it appeared, most of being a typical person was conversing, about if not mindless things like the weather, then about oneself—and especially since I had done my very best to be soully a musician, I had been in the habit of upselling myself, which for the most part I hated anyway; However, some achievements and talents I really did take such pride in that sometimes I felt that there were only so many things that I could say, that I was often repeating myself, or even worse—speaking from some kind of scripted dialogue, which didn't seem much but a stones throw away from the surreal and bizzare unreality that I had been in; things each day seemed more and more like a movie, the night before culminating in an entire plethora of new discoveries—both about myself, and my apparent self-made external world.

I knew that my return to Equinox would in some way be a catch—the recently-increased initiation fee which I accredited to the prolonged disability from joining, however worth the wait had doubled— jumping from something like $250, to $500 in what seemed overnight, though it had been already almost eight months since I had rejoined—and nearly seven in New York alone, though the time had flown despite its absolutely dreadful happenings, not yet having any fun at all in the city besides very brief moments of euphoria—no, instead I had been shown a first-hand look at the broken system, the broken economy, and the broken people of the world first-handedly, fighting tooth-and-nail to stay well—which had been an incredible fight in itself, in addition to the growing number of actual physical fights and altercations I myself never thought would become of my growing years—but New Yorkers, it seemed—especially and particularly the poor and black ones—liked to fight, and I was learning well to protect myself and defend, both in wit and might. But, especially as of lately, I had grown tired, depressed—and especially very hungry, my food supply dwindled to that of simply whatever I could get my hands on from the local food pantries, and I was learning very well that ‘poor people food' and ‘fat people food' were more commonly than not the same things. The grocery stores in the area were allowed to mark up everything in order to compete with each other in greed, in the poverty-stricken neighborhood of Ozone Park, which lived up to its name exceedingly, filled with trash, and heavy with the exhaust of every imaginable industrial machine imaginable, from automobiles to airplanes and beyond—it was an overall disgusting place to be, and with the coming times the reality had set in that I was just as likely broken as those around me in some way—but in understanding how, I would often also want and need to understand why—an answer only God would give me.

Just a couple days before, I had woken up seemingly into a fairytale—

I had been again in the habit for some reason of checking my email, and upon refreshing my GMail had a slew of messages from Equinox, who I had chosen specifically just the day before not to block or place into spam—and though with the passing months of March, April, May, June and almost all of July begrudgingly giving way to the need to work out, trying most every-other gym within reach and at times trekking a tolling 2.5 hours one-way to the most affordable and/or acceptable gym, hating every moment of it as with time passed, I came to understand that a vast majority of people living in the ‘under-realms' of society were less likely to use trash cans even indoors— beginning with a mall-bound gym in the Bronx, which at the very least had a sauna, I couldn't dare to pay the monthly cost, knowing that I would sooner-than-later be transferred to a shelter even further than the gym I had chosen—x-sport fitness—and had grown to a boiling hate, observing the petty mis-management, being told one thing and then another—but above all, the dirty, trashy facilities—the number one factor which disinterested me from paying for any of the gyms I had joined in my time in New York, besides blink—which I had mostly detested due to it seeming more like a high school play room than an actual gym, and of course, it's lack of adequate sauna facilities or even hot showers.

It was during my return to ka futness however that I realized my life had changed fiercer, that I was being watched, tested, and tempted—and though I knew something remarkably greater was at play, my own character had been numerously thrown into question—which I understood, but was still however irritated by, never knowing why someone such as I would be held to such high standards at all, and although knowing that a notable amount of my writing and other works of art had been published and had been become some sort of a public interest, I didn't understand why it mattered so much to the rich and privileged elites who had everything without any of the trauma or having to work too inadequately hard for it that I was so squeaky clean—and for the most part, I was, besides the couple of inherited traits and nasty habits I had adopted under duress of trauma, abuse, and neglect—let alone poverty itself—and I found it baffling that in a society where the white elite had bought up all of the food and property in the world and were selling it back at acceleratingly increased prices for profit to the lower masses, that stealing vegan protein from Whole Foods market could or would be looked down upon—and had just few months earlier been ‘thwarted' in an attempt to gain proper enough nutrition to function, as the homeless system did not provide water at all, or vegan food, leaving me to eat for the most part, only bananas for weeks on end—and of course, once allocated the funds to eat, being limited to such predatory pricing that two avacados might cost $6, or just one mango $3– not of course that I could keep much food for long; the shelter did. It provide a refrigerator or kitchen, and as I hadn't yet been able to afford a cooler, having decided to catch up on my bills with the income I was receiving as a DJ, rather than spend it on any of my other needs—food, clothes, and of course, my hair, which had embarrassingly at this point grown into matter dreads I would more than likely have to cut off—and at least, of course— if I was going to cut my hair I would have to be really skinny—because I was already too black and too fat to be pretty at all, really, by societal standards—but chopping my hair off would be the end of my existence, perhaps a much-needed end, as my existence so far hasn't been admirable, besides a few redeeming factors and qualities I had that even I liked—and, I did at least like myself enough on the inside to try to keep the outside decent, at least clothed.

‘That's it. I'm not going back to the gym until I can afford Equinox.”

I had certainly mentioned this jokingly on my podcast, whose audience I was still largely unaware of, but didn't care— I was still continually being coughed at, bullied, and harassed by means of what seemed psychological terror and torture—and by now I knew the more I felt or thought that it could be black magic inflicted by my fat, stupid, lazy estranged ex-husband, the easier it would be to allude my suicide to “mental illness”, rather than the plan truth; someone had been torturing me for years, at this point, and any of my actions or the circumstances surrounding them were actually justified, not just indignantly but brutally and honestly so—I had been robbed, starved, stalked, and even lead-on by things and people that I loved,

Check the hat and glasses;

Yeap,

That's a bampheramph laughin at you

Not with you

Highly unusual and peculiar, sure

Dad hats: the lowest level of bampheramph—

These bamphers show you what not to do, how not to act, and just how not to be in general

After bampheramph camp, the graduates are ranked by performance —typically— “bad” “very bad” or “what the fuck”, and very rarely even “what the fuck, dude” or “I don't even know”, the average graduate being given the “Classicl bampheramph” status, and typically wear “dorky sun hats” regardless of location, placement, or time of year

Reserve bamphers may wear backwards snap backs after once having served as captain; other reserve bampheramphs may present SnapBack forwards or even sideways, before having served as captain or during service as captain, if any other hat is not needed or called for

The motherfuckers, a special branch of bampheramphs dedicated specifically to

DJs

The 7 aliases

7 alieses

5 Guys

Two Dudes

Codename.Blū.

c o l o r s.

Happy Accidents

Dillon Francis is atop the roof at the Wynn/Encore, preparing to meet his untimely death.

Dillon Hart Francis! You come down from there this instant!

He looks below to the Las Vegas strip, a bustling blur of lights and traffic.

DILLON!

Chak Chel

Let him jump.

Chak Chel!

What! Let ‘em.

Chak Chel, come on!

The Little Motherfuckers are—

Well—

A group of young children are causing a ruckus on their bicycles. None of them are wearing helmets—of course—eventually to become motherfuckers

Smells like fire to the west

Yes, I still have eyes for you

I guess there's still some time between us

Guess I still have ties to you

Do my eyes deceive me or

Is this make believe

Believe me

All I see is you, sometimes

Even— especially in my dreams

I keep your secrets,

I feel scared when your hands touch my hands

But feel good when my lips touch your lips

I feel sad when your heart touch my heart—

I feel love with your hands on my hips,

I'll be getting it all done and over with, for the most part

Give me a call,

When you're all done, at the mortuary

I'm so sorry

I'd bend over backwards, for you

Even eat meat, if you told me too

Or cheese, Jesus

You'd better believe it

Mission impossible

Even stevens

The rest of the things

As seen on TV

The rest of the evening.

My ex fucked me up so bad

I might never be right again

He used to say l”I'm a champion”

He was a loser—

He punched me in the face so hard, I actually apologized for it.

He decked me out.

Not once—

But like 5 times.

In a ROW.

Teeth went through my lip and everything

Came out on the other side,

I was like

“Oh, awesome I was thinking about getting a piercing—

Now I don't have to!

Saved me $30 and the cost of saline!

Phew.

Fucked me up.

To this day if I see you in champion sportswear, I am immediately convinced you're an idiot.

No take backs.

If I see you in champion sportswear,

I just automatically assume you're stupid

Not sorry.

Oh well.

If I see you wearing champion sportswear,

I just assume you're a lazy, retarded idiot.

*shrugs* not my fault.

I wear Nike.

—but it I see you in white Nikes that are supposed to be white, but they're all dirty and gross and caked in whatever—

I'm just gonna assume you're a fat dirty asshole that's gonna punch me in the face,

And walk away.

Clean your shoes!

Lol I'm so fucked up

lil biiiiiiiittzzzzz.

YOU GAVE DILLON FRANCIS YOUR NAME?!

no!

Well thank god

I gave Dillon Francis your name.

ARE YOU CRAZY

No. But he is!

Exactly!

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Starr Michael Roberts

b.04.06.1989

i return to you this these dreadful curses and karmic energy; I relinquish these Hellish demons and suffering to be set free to love, to live, and to create without your essence throughout all time, in death and in the walk of life. Your curses and energy are returned directly and immediately to you. May you be bound from doing harm to yourself or others to the end of days and beyond all time.

with love and light

for ye shall never know my names

“Always be on time—especially in New York.”

The words rang around in my head like a lesson— a lesson I had learned in high school, coming from theatre.

“If you're not 15 minutes early, you're late.” I regurgitated--something I honestly had stood by in all my years with it— my high school theatre teacher, Andy, probably my favorite teacher ever, if not a close second to my middle school English teacher, Mrs. Davis, or even a tie for first, since they came from different eras in my school years. Of course, my next favorite, Mr. Tucker, my middle school music teacher—a multi- instrumentalist and expert—some of the only happy blue eyes I had ever known— who had seen something musically gifted in me, and would at random pull me aside and stuck a new instrument in my hands, instructing me to play. I had enamored him with drums, playing out a copycat pattern by ear after watching it once, and seemed to continue to amaze him as I quickly repeated tunes or improvised on the guitar, bass, and clarinet—and though I had wanted to play in the drum line—with the cool kids who often bullied me, hoping desperate somehow to mix—he insisted that I take band, first playing saxophone, and then switching to trumpet, for my adaptability and ear for harmonies—I wanted of course to play first trumpet, but was assigned to the contrasting harmonies of second trumpet— also eventually joining the drum line, where of course I was still bullied and competed for the best-fitting harness, which would keep my Quads at waist level instead of around my hips—my body, then, now looking back, that of a stout young woman—I was maybe 5'2, with double -G breasts and no bavksidevworth mentioning-I was more wide than round at the rear with thugs, but no hips to accentuate—and though my body was strange for that of a middle school girl, leaving me miserable and disproportionate, compared to the white, frail and thin Mormon girls—and the long haired, pretty faced latinas— the only blac at school besides a couple of Mormon kids—who has a white mother, who had been abandoned by their obviously very black father at or near birth, as they were a couple grades apart—and besides actually knowing it, you wouldn't have known they were white at all. The girl, who was in my grade, might have been about 6ft tall by middle school, and her hair always disheveled and unkempt— which didn't seem to bother her white, Mormon friends—the popular girls who made my life miserable enough, and though she herself was for the most part neutral, her high status in the pecking order had been long established. The town was split into two by both class, which equated to race and religion—a Mormon establishment, the deeply rooted white and wealthy, conservative Mormons had huge houses on one side of the freeway—the lower-class, casino working Mexican immigrants and their l first generation children on the other side of the freeway; this was the place I had learned to hate myself the most, a foundation first implemented at home, and then fortified at school— where my skin was too dark, my hair was strange, though always well done— and my ill-fitting clothes, mostly boys clothes, as my mother had become impatient with attempting to find “cute” or pretty clothes, and the American obesity epidemic had not yet grown to the norm; plus sized clothes were expensive and hard to find—and so without being said, middle school was harder than it had to be for several reasons—but it was also the first place I had been called or considered a “genius”, at least musically. I had always excelled in academics, at least until middle school, where my life became dark and I first realized that my body was strange and unwanted.

Fast forward to now, a 30-year-old loser sitting in the Manhattan glass office of a Sales professional and her counterpart, whose distaste in my apparel I could feel just sitting there— I quivered and became nervous, trying to hide my unmanicured nails between my crossed legs, however revealing instantaneously how vital they were to using body language, speaking with my hands and inwardly screaming “I'm poor, just look past this and hire me!”

But it wasn't just my apparat that had more than likely cost me the job—though somewhere inside I still desperately hoped that they would see past my downfalls— I was desperate to stay at Equinox, and only had 20 days left in my reinstatement before the dues would set in—and the “free” month that I had been granted and had allowed me to access the club once more had not at all be “free” The elites had flaunted their ability to control everything remotely, through the use of cellular phones and satellites— which had spun me into a suicidal spiral at best for the last week, at least pushing through to get as much of a daily workout as possible— I had spent every possible waking moment at the club, writing, unloading the angst I had gathered in the brutality of homelessness, poverty, and blackness, summoning some way to land a DJ gig looking as classless ans haggard as I did.

But they wouldn't look past my lateness— a whopping 37 minutes, and I blamed myself entirely, as I should have known that with both phones on and out of airplane mode in order to marinate, that I would be the center of a targeted attack.

“Stay in the hood, nigger!!!l”

The bus usually ran on time at the time of day when my meeting was, but of course didn't even show up at its scheduled time, and all though google had read that it had left on time, the family standing at the stop said that they had been there for at least 10 minutes, with no bus in sight. I had been up much earlier than usual, especially after a strange dream in which my ex husband taunted me; I hated seeing his face, hearing his voice, and being reminded of all the havoc he had caused on my psyche and sanity— I had spent the morning off, and in search of a case worker who could print me extra copies of my resume, which I had been asked to bring, but of course ignored by the time I actually arrived at the meeting— I ran downstairs to the locker rooms to use the bathroom, stashing my tattered backpack and decaying gym bag in a locker downstairs, along with my skateboard, before heading back upstairs and into the waiting area, which I was only in for a moment before a beautiful Asian woman greeted me, with immediate disappointment in her voice and a look of overall disapproval in her eyes.“Hi, CC…”, she said, almost pitifully. I stood up to greet her, shaking her hand “You're so late…”

“Hi, Allison, I mirrored with self-doubt and disappointment—“I am so sorry” and I could feel it already that I was doomed.

But I had always been doomed. Since leaving my now estranged ex, it had seemed that the curse he specificallytold me he had set onto my life was true