Podcast appearances and mentions of Dillon Francis

The Platform Mix episode 570 features The Bay Area's very own, Audio1! A true OG in the DJ game, he's been perfecting his craft over the last three decades and has become widely recognized for being one of the best open format DJs around. He's played all over the US and as a producer his edits and remixes have been supported by artists like Diplo, Dillon Francis and DJs across the globe. You can catch him sharing his sets four times a week on Twitch, where he's become a partner as a streamer, and you can also hear him every Friday on the nationally syndicated show, Ghetto House Radio on Wild 949FM. Be sure to follow AUDIO1 on his socials to see all his upcoming gigs, subscribe to my Patreon to see full track lists from the mixes, take a look at my top tracks of the week and get a look into what I'm playing out in my sets. Now turn those speakers up and let's get into it with AUDIO1's latest right here, on The Platform. Audio1: https://www.instagram.com/djaudio1/ The Platform Podcast: https://www.youtube.com/@theplatformmix Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/djdexmke Artwork by Michael Byers-Dent: https://www.instagram.com/byersdent/

00:52 1 Tiësto, Poppy Baskcomb Drifting (Arodes Remix) SPINNIN' 05:03 2 Gil Glaze ft. KOOLKID Gold Sony Music CH 07:56 3 KREAM & RUBACK Se Que Quiere INTERSTELLAR 11:48 4 TOYZZ SexyBack SPINNIN' 14:45 5 Cat Dealers & Faiolli ft David LeSal Big Black TOMORROWLAND 17:00 6 Truth x Lies Beat Super Bumpin CREATE 19:03 7 Steve Aoki & Lucas & Steve Loco DIM MAK 21:48 8 Tame Impala Let It Happen (OMNOM Remix) FICTION 23:52 9 InntRaw Breathe MUSICAL FREEDOM 26:45 10 Mau P TESLA 2 INSOMNIAC 28:52 11 Benny Benassi Feel The Bass ULTRA 30:56:00 12 NXSTY Pale In Comparison (Don Diablo Edit) [ HEXAGON 32:11 13 Nathan Dawe x Shayan Over You HELIX 35:48 14 Crunkz Need You CRUNKZ 38:22 15 Fach & Chaco Work WYN 40:26 16 Samantha Loveridge Backtrack Blow Up (Max Styler Remix) WHEN STARS ALIGN 42:07 17 MORGANJ On My Mind (ft. fwn) CONFESSION 44:48 18 Dillon Francis, Marten Hørger - B2U 1001 47:03 19 Skytech, Vion Konger Everybody's Free (To Feel Good) SMASH THE HOUSE 50:03 20 Showtek, .EXA Slow Down Pt. 2 SPINNIN' 52:15 21 DVBBS & Abi Flynn Move A Little Closer ULTRA 54:22 22 KSHMR Wild Ride (Ryos Remix) SPINNIN' 57:33 23 Audien & Mike Williams feat. RYVM It's Okay ARMADA 59:18 24 Łaszewo 3am (DJ Intro Edit) LASZEWO 60:45 25 ZHU Faded (HNTR Remix) - 7A - 132 WHITE

01. Midnight Evolution - Moving Me (Extended) 02. Swanky Tunes, Backeer, Elline - Gandagana (Extended Mix) 03. TS13 - Banbhouri (Extended mix) 04. Сhumee - Freedom & Love 05. Andrey Exx - Wanna Give You 06. Chique, No Hopes - Ice (Extended Mix) 07. EarthLife - Dance With Us (Extended Mix) 08. Emiliano Demarco, Driver Of The Future - Android (Mario Eighta Re-Vision) 09. Joris Voorn - Tryptamine (Extended Mix) 10. Kevin de Vries, Frynn, Bigfett - Crashing Down feat. Frýnn (Original Mix) 11. Mau P - People Talk People Sing (Original Mix) 12. The Chemical Brothers - Do It Again (Massano Extended Remix) 13. Devault - Let Me Clear My Throat (Original Mix) 14. Armin van Buuren, JOA (US) - Heavy (Extended Mix) 15. Julian Jordan - Something To Believe In (Extended Mix) 16. Chris Avantgarde, icykof - What She Told Me (Chris Avantgarde Remix) 17. Groove Delight - Elektro (HIGHLITE Remix Extended) 18. Dillon Francis, MARTEN HØRGER - Cut The Midrange (Original Mix) 19. Audio Bullys, Chris Lorenzo, Max Styler - London's On Fire (Extended Mix) 20. Westend - Freaky Time (Original Mix) 21. Ruback, Vylow - GIRL (Original Mix) 22. KuKs - Get Ready (Extended Mix) 23. BRANDON (DE), Lackmus, Kxne - Just Walk In (Original Mix)

01. Midnight Evolution - Moving Me (Extended) 02. Swanky Tunes, Backeer, Elline - Gandagana (Extended Mix) 03. TS13 - Banbhouri (Extended mix) 04. Сhumee - Freedom & Love 05. Andrey Exx - Wanna Give You 06. Chique, No Hopes - Ice (Extended Mix) 07. EarthLife - Dance With Us (Extended Mix) 08. Emiliano Demarco, Driver Of The Future - Android (Mario Eighta Re-Vision) 09. Joris Voorn - Tryptamine (Extended Mix) 10. Kevin de Vries, Frynn, Bigfett - Crashing Down feat. Frýnn (Original Mix) 11. Mau P - People Talk People Sing (Original Mix) 12. The Chemical Brothers - Do It Again (Massano Extended Remix) 13. Devault - Let Me Clear My Throat (Original Mix) 14. Armin van Buuren, JOA (US) - Heavy (Extended Mix) 15. Julian Jordan - Something To Believe In (Extended Mix) 16. Chris Avantgarde, icykof - What She Told Me (Chris Avantgarde Remix) 17. Groove Delight - Elektro (HIGHLITE Remix Extended) 18. Dillon Francis, MARTEN HØRGER - Cut The Midrange (Original Mix) 19. Audio Bullys, Chris Lorenzo, Max Styler - London's On Fire (Extended Mix) 20. Westend - Freaky Time (Original Mix) 21. Ruback, Vylow - GIRL (Original Mix) 22. KuKs - Get Ready (Extended Mix) 23. BRANDON (DE), Lackmus, Kxne - Just Walk In (Original Mix)

01. The Chemical Brothers - Do It Again (Massano Remix) 02. FISHER & bbyclose - Blackberries 03. Robin Schulz x Steve Aoki x LAWRENT - Bloodtype 04. Devault - Let Me Clear My Throat 05. Max Dean, Luke Dean, Locky - Can't Decide (Westend Edit) 06. Jennifer Lopez & Pitbull - On The Floor (EXYT Remix) 07. GENESI, Meduza, Aya Anne, - Freak (Control Room Edit) 08. Dillon Francis & Marten Hørger - Cut The Midrange 09. Odd Mob x Tag Team - FEEL THIS SHIT x Whoomp! (There It Is) (Stevo Re-edit) 10. Paul Oakenfold & Jessica Sweetman - Bang Bang 11. BLACKPINK - Jump (Antoine Delvig Rework) 12. Boombox Cartel - Nbd (Phlegmatic Dogs Remix) (Marlon Rework) 13. FISHER x Flowdan - Boost Up (Mike Renza Remix) 14. OOTORO - GHETTOBREAK 15. Alesso, Tove Lo - Heroes (Bessey Remix) 16. Vion Konger, Skytech - Everybody's Free (To Feel Good) 17. Thomas Gold - Set Me Free 18. Calvin Harris, Clementine Douglas - Blessings (Airwolf Paradise Remix)

Simply Analog by Tin Box pres. Fre$h 01. Eminem ft. Rihanna - Love The Way You Lie 02. 2 Chainz ft. Wiz Khalifa- We Own It (Fast & Furious) 03. Iggy Azalea ft. Charli XCX - Fancy 04. Sage The Gemini ft. IAmSu - Gas Pedal 05. T Pain ft. B.O.B. - Up Down 06. Omarion ft. Chris Brown - Post To Be 07. Kid Ink ft. Usher - Body Language 08. will.i.am ft. Miley Cryus, French Montana - Feelin' Myself 09. Drake - Find Your Love 10. Kid Ink ft. Chris Brown - Show Me 11. Kid Ink ft. Chris Brown - Main Chick 12. Trey Songz - Na Na 13. Jeremih ft. YG - Don't Tell Em 14. will.i.am ft. Cody Wise - Birthday 15. Chris Brown ft. Tyga - Loyal 16. Fuse ODG - Million Pound Girl 17. Trey Songz ft. Nicki Minaj - Touchin, Lovin 18. Chris Brown ft. Tyga - Ayo 19. Drake ft. Lil Wayne & Tyga - The Motto 20. Kid Ink ft. Chris Brown - Hotel 21. Rihanna - Diamonds 22. Natalie La Rose ft. Jeremih - Somebody 23. Fergie - L.A. Love 24. Ariana Grande ft. Iggy Azalea - Problem 25. Major Lazer & DJ Snake ft. MØ - Lean On 26. Jason Derulo & DJ Snake - Talk Dirty 27. DJ Snake & Lil Jon - Turn Down For What 28. Dillon Francis & DJ Snake - Get Low 29. Lil Jon ft. Tyga - Bend Ova 30. Omi - Cheerleader 31. Major Lazer ft. Busy Signal - Watch Out For This 32. Lethal Bizzle ft. Diztortion - Fester Skank 33. DJ Fresh & Jay Fay ft. Ms Dynamite - Dibby Dibby Sound 34. Jay Z & Kanye West - Ni**as In Paris 35. Beyonce - 7/11 36. Baauer - Harlem Shake 37. Beyonce ft. Jay Z - Drunk In Love 38. Skepta ft. JME - That's Not Me 39. Stormzy - Know Me From 40. Meridan Dan & JME - German Whip' 41. Lethal Bizzle ft. JME & Tempa T - Rari Workout 42. Tinie Tempah ft. 2 Chainz - Trampoline 43. Flo Rida ft. Sage The Gemini & Lookas - GDFR MORE FRE$H MIXTAPES ▶️ bit.ly/RAfresh reactivateasia.com FIND US ON OUR SOCIALS! FACEBOOK

I want to scream at you But even standing at my shoulder length My eye at your chest. You'd be a million miles away Look what I make of you. I have no mistakes left and still The fate of it is that, You have my gratitude, your gracious And yet they eat away At all the things I have And maybe there'll be more of me For now the morbid days are just as caving in as Any other making that we make of it Don't thank me, Just outrank them. Banking on your every moment Effervescent, tragic endings Waiting on your every scent and center Don't disintegrate just yet And now we enter impact Stand for circumstances Do work faster Horror horror Do you know the motive of her Former engines? Motive, motive Steer the plot or rear the message m Fritter fritter Audiences get disinterested So effing quickly. Would you mild or would you mold Or would you wake to fold the eggs into the bacon, Bread, and then tomato— Would you fear her message? Would you quick forget you're on her planet? Surely safe to know But know but knots And no but not again You bought it with your faux and auctions Hallmark cards And feathers fauxes Don't you know The faucet's only running water Oh you're hard predictable And chlorinated Oh the poison Dripping at your ways And wilting at your guilt The James The reckon gestures Reckon, Avery Severed by the check Or just the ever ending Never get there Message to a friend To just keep going When she ends it It is just another death You'll get on with it In the end Never friends. Never. Good I hate you Could you maybe Find me ugly? That's your money in my Every reaching corner Every angling cent And harsh presentations of Skin that's aging and Wages which haven't Coverage to front the Expenses, Crash diets Go broken Ugly cause you're course Everything fits But still empty on the inside I live in shredded Shambles of service But there's no gratitude My breath is only your own And this bread is my headache I haven't a sermon Or diamond Or unworthy Sex appeal And really only Ever off when Only ever on You're still demolishing the board You're still diminishing the severs Yet you neglected Each and every Crevice of this Never ending friendship— But did I ever mention there is a glass slipper For each and every person ever Just to wish one? Did it ever occur to you The circumstances you are under r Live for it Or get lost There's really only porridge in her oven If the gas or turning off or over Don't turn over now The resin's covered in the Corvette. Only cause I had to Sense when is it Blood sense. Get laid Don't flinch Get paid Gold finch Get reckless I call spirits north for dinner South for lunch And up for porridge at breakfast I've passed on I've been awake You're mortal girl The one you're on is Really only such a small pond That I should think To cover up With dirt. Start over. —and Skrillex is just in the corner the whole time playing video games. Worst dream ever. But why's Seth Meyer's mad at me? I'm guessing he always was! He's people are just like that All conservative, conformed— Again, it's not your fault It's just uncomfortable! Again I only ever approached it wanting to know If the l broach l fits But even Lucille Ball won't come if I call her— Probably don't even got the right number Code of arms Or helm of awe, huh. Fuck, man. When's Tonight Show in hiatus Need you off the island, off In Prague And out my anus, Don't remind me I've been Jamie Lee Curtis Just recently enough That I miss it. Ugh. I know, I resent that. Find a line to draw Or fly a kite past I'm past my reckoning Just for tonight, The suffering ends Surely not enough to past the time Before my electrolytes fly in But tonight Just tonight I want to dine in my mind Or die alone Without trying to find the light— The neighbor simply seems to follow it. (At least I got her ought to not slam the door now, Police interventions, There really are cause for those.) What is a warfare! Buy me a checkmark! My question mark seems to go off a lot All for it God, You're remarkable I gift a heart or though I out all my crystals in the Rockerfeller plaza But still held on to an amethyst for Dillon Francis? There those eyes are again; I hate to hurt you North; But I'm no mother board Or mother ship Or Mother Earth Broke my focus long enough to call you up, But sure, I'm just short of even past conscious. Nothing's safe for us, you know. One one to call; No code of conduct– No safety in numbers, or color guard No home, and no love in our times For our kind– We're all here now And the wrong time Is all time. {Enter The Multiverse} Do you see me? I don't not see you. Well. Well. I thought there'd be more having to say. There's nothing to say. Not nothing… Nothing. Huh. —unless you say it. I've nothing to say. Then say nothing. The frog croaks, The oak leafs, The custard leaves its corridors The hark leaps The oath melts, The sworn have sworn To never mark. To no remose, To no remark; The carrier, and carry her— The fierce need, For Vegabonds, For every caper read Amen. All is spoken; And all in thought also in words All is listened And all has heard not in her form Stiff. You're horrified. You're horrifying. Sure, but— Brother— Broken— Nothing that I've never heard before Capable. Half-friend. Northerner. Cape cod. Hamptons. Fair straights. Ancient. Sacred. R I T U A L S LEGENDS: R I T U A L S OH GOD. No! NO! NO! It just keeps going! Thank you! Thank God. I thought it was over. You were invoked. I was implicated. Fun fact: Here's the thing. You were murdered. Ah, gains. Why the fuck do I never get to just choose when this happens? Cause you don't. This isn't fair! I watch 2 segments of— STEPHEN COLBERT enters. *shattered. Shithead. STEPHEN COLBERT enters shattered. —I was shattered when I heard about it. What's that? Never you mind. I didn't— I just— asked. He finds his way to the round table in the center of the dark room. He seems twisted; it's as if he's been blindsided. Capable. And still there's nowhere In here The city we share I can go To make the sound Eager to leave my soul As how I know you. Awkward! Just wait. You've been betrayed! I— know that already. Is this your card? {Enter The Multiverse} GET OFF THE TRAIN. — Lil bitz Fool. Why every time I see you, you look guilty. Why. You never look innocent at all. If something went down — I know it was you. Hide a lie; Can't hide a lie Can't tell a tell Can't roll the ball Can't bowl the strike Can't run at all Can't fool the hare Can't skin the cat Can't dance a bit Don't row the boat Can't play the role Don't know the tune Can't trim the tree Can't hold the bowl Can't kill the fowl Don't tell the tale. Hide a lie. Run a mile Taste the bile Fill the basket Now you're moron Now you're mortal That's immoral Jimmy Fallon —that's a turtle. Tell the lie. Hide the fold. Kill the curse; Sail the ark Fill the void Hate the gap Kill the king Tell the tale Tell a lie Hide the [The Festival Project ™] knife. In for life, or what? Info wars at most. Live to tell the tale? Learn to spike the punch Learn to punch the wall Lean up on the door Learn to most of all Shut the fuck up Keep your mouth shut I love New York Give the bad news Put a smile on Oh you gotta love it I get close to nothing once a month And then come back To pull the puffer out the dragon Goddammit what you want me for I learned another lesson Don't devour her All I wanted was Just a sour odor Give the last call I go heroin blind For heroine times And by the time it all gets darker I will have pulled the plug and written on the wall in Permanent marker. ugh. Fuck you. Fuck The Doors. Fuck your chorus. Fuck your archer. Fuck, you found I. I all for her, Shoot the wombat; —But the door shuts on its own Without it getting harder, now. Don't it? Donut. i don't— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I— Belt Buckle Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I don't— Belt buckle— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Okay. I— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I— Belt Buckle Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I don't— Belt buckle— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Can I contour? Not even one episode Or epicenter Even for a lonely I got the warning For your magnitude before So what you want It's just a test Pacific coast Or night crawler Nightmare or Nightfall You swore you won't I do desire not a lover But a hand to hold And father for my own So. Shove it up your Probably want a I don't need disaster warning What you wanted Limoncello Light waves And light gave a damn I have a dance I cave to for And there you are Just a horrible oar, Now I row the boat But you don't disaster Nor could you decide to divorce her Even if I ever worked At Art gallery Organizers God, you wore her sweater Just to make it all seem rather backwards If perchance I ran my hand just over All the soft Love in the world Are you not a dozen roses? To far my flames I gave you my heart Flower Done moving Don't moon Did you really pay the neighbor Just to hate me Haven't you heard On our earth There's turf war? So far, white doves But no lost wolves, Poor pigeons, following Of course you were hard wired I hate not once But all times the hurt Each time I struck Sure I want for California And Equinox saunas And then no more do I run the tub! But for now as I soak and the roach prowls, I get my motion under the water, Sure form and no more fire till the moon comes up who rose at dusk? Likely or lite brawl Sire, You care to hard work But you desire awful I was right in all forms Now I die here Your knife and all you are Feels right as blood pours out I want but only suffer Your call could only burden My tie to fall a lark Cries Out In To Her Arms you fall and I desire I desire I now Have a heart to cry I died, sir. You won. How awful. Just a nugget of truth, This window of lies, A mask so broken And yet in the cracks there, my mirror My shadow My hard times Out to work And off to war And what you wanted No, not outside Inside love But nevermind that Now the blood pours out and sweet, I thank to this relief and finally Rest, I. No longer shall I mourn your love to not And know the guilt is slain in you anew, my heart Dear shadow, youth becomes my blood And dear far cry, Dear boy you, Wait to know me in again another There came and withered and your force Now knows mine, Never end and tethered, There I wait, then Now I blood and dreaming, sleeping in Your pure, Decency. I have strike and so wait my end; And you, go on, Now without my voice. A harp. Welcome to Ecuador. What are you doing here? I grow bananas. Every once in awhile I have you over For a cocktail Or five. Every night I tighten my eyes on you, Thoughts. Every space in time Is just a collar Dog A bark. Every time you call I still come over Though you do not want, I opposite. You see, You are time. I see you now, God. I feel your heart, I Can involve My lips quaking Your worried me My fall, right? Why— I belong in your eye, Why, Heart my home, I, Never go. Never not. Bullet to a gun For to wish I'm not awake And to dream though seek, I call And to worry Wishes swimming Thunder rolls and Hard I fall So wait and weather Weather storm And feather. You know I'm locked, and fault Too consumed by news cameras Noise tied around my, Neck your beck and call My battered back And there is she All I am not And movement, You controller Red and virtuous Are thy neither my friend, Nor foe, Nor narrow and the neck, dripping The feet, and defeated I am in my shallow Your wish is my make her I make thy for glory She the golden trophy, Truth, you will not with, These, you will decanter Encounter; or I slay you in my motion I say your name and sheild thy slain And there you are, a force And here she comes, a brain My greying matter; Your Tuesday, Wednesday She fears me not One, two, four blue eyes I'm nothing now Six blondes, four heartaches I rung, you wanted I eat, you shatter I starve, you know me Then in the waste My waist till not your honor And so, I go And she And she And she And she Eighty five and one divine But all are yours And yours are mine So then. We have killed her. And there, she lay slain, And ye, we rejoice And yet, we became To seize, none has not To breathe, yet remains— The truth comes our time, As body decays. Fuck. I don't think that was it. Nevermind. *fixed it . {Enter The Multiverse} The Complex Collective © [The Festival Project ™] -Ū.

Step into a high-voltage blend of sound where pounding house, raw edits, and unexpected genre flips keep you on your toes with Floyd on this episode of Lip Biter Sounds. The mix launches with deep melodic energy from Victor Ruiz and Mila Journée, setting a seductive after-dark tone. Things get moodier with Delon's “Extra Nocturno,” then instantly erupt into dancefloor euphoria with GUDFELLA's pulse-pounding “all i wanna do is dance.” Expect left turns that hit hard—like Fantom Freq's gritty Nirvana edit or Daft Punk's iconic “Technologic” reimagined by RIGO. Throw in a fiery remix of Tame Impala's “Let It Happen” and Ozzy Osbourne's (R.I.P) “Crazy Train” with a new rave twist, and you're deep in genre-blurring territory. From big-room tech with Boris Way and Proppa to underground bass from Matroda, Innellea, and Dillon Francis, this mix doesn't just move—it mutates. Whether you're into the hypnotic throb of Toolroom beats or the explosive energy of Odd Mob's remix of Sub Focus, this playlist is a full-spectrum ride. Let it bang, let it groove, let it surprise you. This is not just a podcast—it's a pressure-cooked set designed for dancefloor rebels and headphone explorers alike. ⚡️Like the Show? Click the [Repost] ↻ button so more people can hear it!

I want to scream at you But even standing at my shoulder length My eye at your chest. You'd be a million miles away Look what I make of you. I have no mistakes left and still The fate of it is that, You have my gratitude, your gracious And yet they eat away At all the things I have And maybe there'll be more of me For now the morbid days are just as caving in as Any other making that we make of it Don't thank me, Just outrank them. Banking on your every moment Effervescent, tragic endings Waiting on your every scent and center Don't disintegrate just yet And now we enter impact Stand for circumstances Do work faster Horror horror Do you know the motive of her Former engines? Motive, motive Steer the plot or rear the message m Fritter fritter Audiences get disinterested So effing quickly. Would you mild or would you mold Or would you wake to fold the eggs into the bacon, Bread, and then tomato— Would you fear her message? Would you quick forget you're on her planet? Surely safe to know But know but knots And no but not again You bought it with your faux and auctions Hallmark cards And feathers fauxes Don't you know The faucet's only running water Oh you're hard predictable And chlorinated Oh the poison Dripping at your ways And wilting at your guilt The James The reckon gestures Reckon, Avery Severed by the check Or just the ever ending Never get there Message to a friend To just keep going When she ends it It is just another death You'll get on with it In the end Never friends. Never. Good I hate you Could you maybe Find me ugly? That's your money in my Every reaching corner Every angling cent And harsh presentations of Skin that's aging and Wages which haven't Coverage to front the Expenses, Crash diets Go broken Ugly cause you're course Everything fits But still empty on the inside I live in shredded Shambles of service But there's no gratitude My breath is only your own And this bread is my headache I haven't a sermon Or diamond Or unworthy Sex appeal And really only Ever off when Only ever on You're still demolishing the board You're still diminishing the severs Yet you neglected Each and every Crevice of this Never ending friendship— But did I ever mention there is a glass slipper For each and every person ever Just to wish one? Did it ever occur to you The circumstances you are under Live for it Or get lost There's really only porridge in her oven If the gas or turning off or over Don't turn over now The resin's covered in the Corvette. Only cause I had to Sense when is it Blood sense. Get laid Don't flinch Get paid Gold finch Get reckless I call spirits north for dinner South for lunch And up for porridge at breakfast I've passed on I've been awake You're mortal girl The one you're on is Really only such a small pond That I should think To cover up With dirt. Start over. —and Skrillex is just in the corner the whole time playing video games. Worst dream ever. But why's Seth Meyer's mad at me? I'm guessing he always was! He's people are just like that All conservative, conformed— Again, it's not your fault It's just uncomfortable! Again I only ever approached it wanting to know If the l broach l fits But even Lucille Ball won't come if I call her— Probably don't even got the right number Code of arms Or helm of awe, huh. Fuck, man. When's Tonight Show in hiatus Need you off the island, off In Prague And out my anus, Don't remind me I've been Jamie Lee Curtis Just recently enough That I miss it. Ugh. I know, I resent that. Find a line to draw Or fly a kite past I'm past my reckoning Just for tonight, The suffering ends Surely not enough to past the time Before my electrolytes fly in But tonight Just tonight I want to dine in my mind Or die alone Without trying to find the light— The neighbor simply seems to follow it. (At least I got her ought to not slam the door now, Police interventions, There really are cause for those.) What is a warfare! Buy me a checkmark! My question mark seems to go off a lot All for it God, You're remarkable I gift a heart or though I out all my crystals in the Rockerfeller plaza But still held on to an amethyst for Dillon Francis? There those eyes are again; I hate to hurt you North; But I'm no mother board Or mother ship Or Mother Earth Broke my focus long enough to call you up, But sure, I'm just short of even past conscious. Nothing's safe for us, you know. One one to call; No code of conduct– No safety in numbers, or color guard No home, and no love in our times For our kind– We're all here now And the wrong time Is all time. {Enter The Multiverse} Do you see me? I don't not see you. Well. Well. I thought there'd be more having to say. There's nothing to say. Not nothing… Nothing. Huh. —unless you say it. I've nothing to say. Then say nothing. The frog croaks, The oak leafs, The custard leaves its corridors The hark leaps The oath melts, The sworn have sworn To never mark. To no remose, To no remark; The carrier, and carry her— The fierce need, For Vegabonds, For every caper read Amen. All is spoken; And all in thought also in words All is listened And all has heard not in her form Stiff. You're horrified. You're horrifying. Sure, but— Brother— Broken— Nothing that I've never heard before Capable. Half-friend. Northerner. Cape cod. Hamptons. Fair straights. Ancient. Sacred. R I T U A L S LEGENDS: R I T U A L S OH GOD. No! NO! NO! It just keeps going! Thank you! Thank God. I thought it was over. You were invoked. I was implicated. Fun fact: Here's the thing. You were murdered. Ah, gains. Why the fuck do I never get to just choose when this happens? Cause you don't. This isn't fair! I watch 2 segments of— STEPHEN COLBERT enters. *shattered. Shithead. STEPHEN COLBERT enters shattered. —I was shattered when I heard about it. What's that? Never you mind. I didn't— I just— asked. He finds his way to the round table in the center of the dark room. He seems twisted; it's as if he's been blindsided. Capable. And still there's nowhere In here The city we share I can go To make the sound Eager to leave my soul As how I know you. Awkward! Just wait. You've been betrayed! I— know that already. Is this your card? {Enter The Multiverse} GET OFF THE TRAIN. — Lil bitz Fool. Why every time I see you, you look guilty. Why. You never look innocent at all. If something went down — I know it was you. Hide a lie; Can't hide a lie Can't tell a tell Can't roll the ball Can't bowl the strike Can't run at all Can't fool the hare Can't skin the cat Can't dance a bit Don't row the boat Can't play the role Don't know the tune Can't trim the tree Can't hold the bowl Can't kill the fowl Don't tell the tale. Hide a lie. Run a mile Taste the bile Fill the basket Now you're moron Now you're mortal That's immoral Jimmy Fallon —that's a turtle. Tell the lie. Hide the fold. Kill the curse; Sail the ark Fill the void Hate the gap Kill the king Tell the tale Tell a lie Hide the [The Festival Project ™] knife. In for life, or what? Info wars at most. Live to tell the tale? Learn to spike the punch Learn to punch the wall Lean up on the door Learn to most of all Shut the fuck up Keep your mouth shut I love New York Give the bad news Put a smile on Oh you gotta love it I get close to nothing once a month And then come back To pull the puffer out the dragon Goddammit what you want me for I learned another lesson Don't devour her All I wanted was Just a sour odor Give the last call I go heroin blind For heroine times And by the time it all gets darker I will have pulled the plug and written on the wall in Permanent marker. ugh. Fuck you. Fuck The Doors. Fuck your chorus. Fuck your archer. Fuck, you found I. I all for her, Shoot the wombat; —But the door shuts on its own Without it getting harder, now. Don't it? Donut. i don't— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I— Belt Buckle Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I don't— Belt buckle— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Okay. I— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I— Belt Buckle Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I don't— Belt buckle— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Can I contour? Not even one episode Or epicenter Even for a lonely I got the warning For your magnitude before So what you want It's just a test Pacific coast Or night crawler Nightmare or Nightfall You swore you won't I do desire not a lover But a hand to hold And father for my own So. Shove it up your Probably want a I don't need disaster warning What you wanted Limoncello Light waves And light gave a damn I have a dance I cave to for And there you are Just a horrible oar, Now I row the boat But you don't disaster Nor could you decide to divorce her Even if I ever worked At Art gallery Organizers God, you wore her sweater Just to make it all seem rather backwards If perchance I ran my hand just over All the soft Love in the world Are you not a dozen roses? To far my flames I gave you my heart Flower Done moving Don't moon Did you really pay the neighbor Just to hate me Haven't you heard On our earth There's turf war? So far, white doves But no lost wolves, Poor pigeons, following Of course you were hard wired I hate not once But all times the hurt Each time I struck Sure I want for California And Equinox saunas And then no more do I run the tub! But for now as I soak and the roach prowls, I get my motion under the water, Sure form and no more fire till the moon comes up who rose at dusk? Likely or lite brawl Sire, You care to hard work But you desire awful I was right in all forms Now I die here Your knife and all you are Feels right as blood pours out I want but only suffer Your call could only burden My tie to fall a lark Cries Out In To Her Arms you fall and I desire I desire I now Have a heart to cry I died, sir. You won. How awful. Just a nugget of truth, This window of lies, A mask so broken And yet in the cracks there, my mirror My shadow My hard times Out to work And off to war And what you wanted No, not outside Inside love But nevermind that Now the blood pours out and sweet, I thank to this relief and finally Rest, I. No longer shall I mourn your love to not And know the guilt is slain in you anew, my heart Dear shadow, youth becomes my blood And dear far cry, Dear boy you, Wait to know me in again another There came and withered and your force Now knows mine, Never end and tethered, There I wait, then Now I blood and dreaming, sleeping in Your pure, Decency. I have strike and so wait my end; And you, go on, Now without my voice. A harp. Welcome to Ecuador. What are you doing here? I grow bananas. Every once in awhile I have you over For a cocktail Or five. Every night I tighten my eyes on you, Thoughts. Every space in time Is just a collar Dog A bark. Every time you call I still come over Though you do not want, I opposite. You see, You are time. I see you now, God. I feel your heart, I Can involve My lips quaking Your worried me My fall, right? Why— I belong in your eye, Why, Heart my home, I, Never go. Never not. Bullet to a gun For to wish I'm not awake And to dream though seek, I call And to worry Wishes swimming Thunder rolls and Hard I fall So wait and weather Weather storm And feather. You know I'm locked, and fault Too consumed by news cameras Noise tied around my, Neck your beck and call My battered back And there is she All I am not And movement, You controller Red and virtuous Are thy neither my friend, Nor foe, Nor narrow and the neck, dripping The feet, and defeated I am in my shallow Your wish is my make her I make thy for glory She the golden trophy, Truth, you will not with, These, you will decanter Encounter; or I slay you in my motion I say your name and sheild thy slain And there you are, a force And here she comes, a brain My greying matter; Your Tuesday, Wednesday She fears me not One, two, four blue eyes I'm nothing now Six blondes, four heartaches I rung, you wanted I eat, you shatter I starve, you know me Then in the waste My waist till not your honor And so, I go And she And she And she And she Eighty five and one divine But all are yours And yours are mine So then. We have killed her. And there, she lay slain, And ye, we rejoice And yet, we became To seize, none has not To breathe, yet remains— The truth comes our time, As body decays. Fuck. I don't think that was it. Nevermind. *fixed it . {Enter The Multiverse} The Complex Collective © [The Festival Project ™] -Ū.

I want to scream at you But even standing at my shoulder length My eye at your chest. You'd be a million miles away Look what I make of you. I have no mistakes left and still The fate of it is that, You have my gratitude, your gracious And yet they eat away At all the things I have And maybe there'll be more of me For now the morbid days are just as caving in as Any other making that we make of it Don't thank me, Just outrank them. Banking on your every moment Effervescent, tragic endings Waiting on your every scent and center Don't disintegrate just yet And now we enter impact Stand for circumstances Do work faster Horror horror Do you know the motive of her Former engines? Motive, motive Steer the plot or rear the message m Fritter fritter Audiences get disinterested So effing quickly. Would you mild or would you mold Or would you wake to fold the eggs into the bacon, Bread, and then tomato— Would you fear her message? Would you quick forget you're on her planet? Surely safe to know But know but knots And no but not again You bought it with your faux and auctions Hallmark cards And feathers fauxes Don't you know The faucet's only running water Oh you're hard predictable And chlorinated Oh the poison Dripping at your ways And wilting at your guilt The James The reckon gestures Reckon, Avery Severed by the check Or just the ever ending Never get there Message to a friend To just keep going When she ends it It is just another death You'll get on with it In the end Never friends. Never. Good I hate you Could you maybe Find me ugly? That's your money in my Every reaching corner Every angling cent And harsh presentations of Skin that's aging and Wages which haven't Coverage to front the Expenses, Crash diets Go broken Ugly cause you're course Everything fits But still empty on the inside I live in shredded Shambles of service But there's no gratitude My breath is only your own And this bread is my headache I haven't a sermon Or diamond Or unworthy Sex appeal And really only Ever off when Only ever on You're still demolishing the board You're still diminishing the severs Yet you neglected Each and every Crevice of this Never ending friendship— But did I ever mention there is a glass slipper For each and every person ever Just to wish one? Did it ever occur to you The circumstances you are under r Live for it Or get lost There's really only porridge in her oven If the gas or turning off or over Don't turn over now The resin's covered in the Corvette. Only cause I had to Sense when is it Blood sense. Get laid Don't flinch Get paid Gold finch Get reckless I call spirits north for dinner South for lunch And up for porridge at breakfast I've passed on I've been awake You're mortal girl The one you're on is Really only such a small pond That I should think To cover up With dirt. Start over. —and Skrillex is just in the corner the whole time playing video games. Worst dream ever. But why's Seth Meyer's mad at me? I'm guessing he always was! He's people are just like that All conservative, conformed— Again, it's not your fault It's just uncomfortable! Again I only ever approached it wanting to know If the l broach l fits But even Lucille Ball won't come if I call her— Probably don't even got the right number Code of arms Or helm of awe, huh. Fuck, man. When's Tonight Show in hiatus Need you off the island, off In Prague And out my anus, Don't remind me I've been Jamie Lee Curtis Just recently enough That I miss it. Ugh. I know, I resent that. Find a line to draw Or fly a kite past I'm past my reckoning Just for tonight, The suffering ends Surely not enough to past the time Before my electrolytes fly in But tonight Just tonight I want to dine in my mind Or die alone Without trying to find the light— The neighbor simply seems to follow it. (At least I got her ought to not slam the door now, Police interventions, There really are cause for those.) What is a warfare! Buy me a checkmark! My question mark seems to go off a lot All for it God, You're remarkable I gift a heart or though I out all my crystals in the Rockerfeller plaza But still held on to an amethyst for Dillon Francis? There those eyes are again; I hate to hurt you North; But I'm no mother board Or mother ship Or Mother Earth Broke my focus long enough to call you up, But sure, I'm just short of even past conscious. Nothing's safe for us, you know. One one to call; No code of conduct– No safety in numbers, or color guard No home, and no love in our times For our kind– We're all here now And the wrong time Is all time. {Enter The Multiverse} Do you see me? I don't not see you. Well. Well. I thought there'd be more having to say. There's nothing to say. Not nothing… Nothing. Huh. —unless you say it. I've nothing to say. Then say nothing. The frog croaks, The oak leafs, The custard leaves its corridors The hark leaps The oath melts, The sworn have sworn To never mark. To no remose, To no remark; The carrier, and carry her— The fierce need, For Vegabonds, For every caper read Amen. All is spoken; And all in thought also in words All is listened And all has heard not in her form Stiff. You're horrified. You're horrifying. Sure, but— Brother— Broken— Nothing that I've never heard before Capable. Half-friend. Northerner. Cape cod. Hamptons. Fair straights. Ancient. Sacred. R I T U A L S LEGENDS: R I T U A L S OH GOD. No! NO! NO! It just keeps going! Thank you! Thank God. I thought it was over. You were invoked. I was implicated. Fun fact: Here's the thing. You were murdered. Ah, gains. Why the fuck do I never get to just choose when this happens? Cause you don't. This isn't fair! I watch 2 segments of— STEPHEN COLBERT enters. *shattered. Shithead. STEPHEN COLBERT enters shattered. —I was shattered when I heard about it. What's that? Never you mind. I didn't— I just— asked. He finds his way to the round table in the center of the dark room. He seems twisted; it's as if he's been blindsided. Capable. And still there's nowhere In here The city we share I can go To make the sound Eager to leave my soul As how I know you. Awkward! Just wait. You've been betrayed! I— know that already. Is this your card? {Enter The Multiverse} GET OFF THE TRAIN. — Lil bitz Fool. Why every time I see you, you look guilty. Why. You never look innocent at all. If something went down — I know it was you. Hide a lie; Can't hide a lie Can't tell a tell Can't roll the ball Can't bowl the strike Can't run at all Can't fool the hare Can't skin the cat Can't dance a bit Don't row the boat Can't play the role Don't know the tune Can't trim the tree Can't hold the bowl Can't kill the fowl Don't tell the tale. Hide a lie. Run a mile Taste the bile Fill the basket Now you're moron Now you're mortal That's immoral Jimmy Fallon —that's a turtle. Tell the lie. Hide the fold. Kill the curse; Sail the ark Fill the void Hate the gap Kill the king Tell the tale Tell a lie Hide the [The Festival Project ™] knife. In for life, or what? Info wars at most. Live to tell the tale? Learn to spike the punch Learn to punch the wall Lean up on the door Learn to most of all Shut the fuck up Keep your mouth shut I love New York Give the bad news Put a smile on Oh you gotta love it I get close to nothing once a month And then come back To pull the puffer out the dragon Goddammit what you want me for I learned another lesson Don't devour her All I wanted was Just a sour odor Give the last call I go heroin blind For heroine times And by the time it all gets darker I will have pulled the plug and written on the wall in Permanent marker. ugh. Fuck you. Fuck The Doors. Fuck your chorus. Fuck your archer. Fuck, you found I. I all for her, Shoot the wombat; —But the door shuts on its own Without it getting harder, now. Don't it? Donut. i don't— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I— Belt Buckle Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I don't— Belt buckle— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Okay. I— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I— Belt Buckle Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I don't— Belt buckle— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Can I contour? Not even one episode Or epicenter Even for a lonely I got the warning For your magnitude before So what you want It's just a test Pacific coast Or night crawler Nightmare or Nightfall You swore you won't I do desire not a lover But a hand to hold And father for my own So. Shove it up your Probably want a I don't need disaster warning What you wanted Limoncello Light waves And light gave a damn I have a dance I cave to for And there you are Just a horrible oar, Now I row the boat But you don't disaster Nor could you decide to divorce her Even if I ever worked At Art gallery Organizers God, you wore her sweater Just to make it all seem rather backwards If perchance I ran my hand just over All the soft Love in the world Are you not a dozen roses? To far my flames I gave you my heart Flower Done moving Don't moon Did you really pay the neighbor Just to hate me Haven't you heard On our earth There's turf war? So far, white doves But no lost wolves, Poor pigeons, following Of course you were hard wired I hate not once But all times the hurt Each time I struck Sure I want for California And Equinox saunas And then no more do I run the tub! But for now as I soak and the roach prowls, I get my motion under the water, Sure form and no more fire till the moon comes up who rose at dusk? Likely or lite brawl Sire, You care to hard work But you desire awful I was right in all forms Now I die here Your knife and all you are Feels right as blood pours out I want but only suffer Your call could only burden My tie to fall a lark Cries Out In To Her Arms you fall and I desire I desire I now Have a heart to cry I died, sir. You won. How awful. Just a nugget of truth, This window of lies, A mask so broken And yet in the cracks there, my mirror My shadow My hard times Out to work And off to war And what you wanted No, not outside Inside love But nevermind that Now the blood pours out and sweet, I thank to this relief and finally Rest, I. No longer shall I mourn your love to not And know the guilt is slain in you anew, my heart Dear shadow, youth becomes my blood And dear far cry, Dear boy you, Wait to know me in again another There came and withered and your force Now knows mine, Never end and tethered, There I wait, then Now I blood and dreaming, sleeping in Your pure, Decency. I have strike and so wait my end; And you, go on, Now without my voice. A harp. Welcome to Ecuador. What are you doing here? I grow bananas. Every once in awhile I have you over For a cocktail Or five. Every night I tighten my eyes on you, Thoughts. Every space in time Is just a collar Dog A bark. Every time you call I still come over Though you do not want, I opposite. You see, You are time. I see you now, God. I feel your heart, I Can involve My lips quaking Your worried me My fall, right? Why— I belong in your eye, Why, Heart my home, I, Never go. Never not. Bullet to a gun For to wish I'm not awake And to dream though seek, I call And to worry Wishes swimming Thunder rolls and Hard I fall So wait and weather Weather storm And feather. You know I'm locked, and fault Too consumed by news cameras Noise tied around my, Neck your beck and call My battered back And there is she All I am not And movement, You controller Red and virtuous Are thy neither my friend, Nor foe, Nor narrow and the neck, dripping The feet, and defeated I am in my shallow Your wish is my make her I make thy for glory She the golden trophy, Truth, you will not with, These, you will decanter Encounter; or I slay you in my motion I say your name and sheild thy slain And there you are, a force And here she comes, a brain My greying matter; Your Tuesday, Wednesday She fears me not One, two, four blue eyes I'm nothing now Six blondes, four heartaches I rung, you wanted I eat, you shatter I starve, you know me Then in the waste My waist till not your honor And so, I go And she And she And she And she Eighty five and one divine But all are yours And yours are mine So then. We have killed her. And there, she lay slain, And ye, we rejoice And yet, we became To seize, none has not To breathe, yet remains— The truth comes our time, As body decays. Fuck. I don't think that was it. Nevermind. *fixed it . {Enter The Multiverse} The Complex Collective © [The Festival Project ™] -Ū.

Welcome back to Rinse And Repeat Radio! On this week's guest mix we have Melohyype out of Tucson, AZHe took over the first half of the episode with a guest mix including a bunch of his favorite records, remixes, edits, & more.Episode 270 turn it up! **Tracklisting**** Melohyype Guest Mix **1.) Bleu Clair Ft Rhiannon Roze - Gold2.) Bingo Players & Zookeeper - Do What You Like3.) Empire The Sun X Acraze - Walking On A Dream (Cazes 'Heard It Like This' Edit)4.) Tinashe X Nervo - No Broke Boys (Pigen Edit)5.) Lola Young X Cassimm - Messy ( Dj Scene 'Valerie Edit)6.) Tchami & Ootoro - Late Night Secrets7.) Junior Senior - Move Your Feet (Bvrnout Remix)8.) Good Times Ahead  - Sandstorm9.) San Pancho X Nicki Manija - Baby Got Back (Squared Edit) 10.) Fisher & Bbyclose - Blackberries11.) Kid Cudi X Gorillaz, Dom Dolla  - Day N Night (Rick Wonder 'New Gold Edit') 12.) Bad Bunny  - Nuevayol (Yaniss Remix)13.) Cloonee & Andruss - Pegao14.) Drake - What Did I Miss ( Hills Remix)15.) Sidepiece - Lick 16.) David Guetta Ft Kid Cudi - Memories (Ovano & Beatz Freq Remix)** Cazes Mix **17.) Fred again, Skepta & Plaqueboymax - Victory Lap (Dave Summer Remix)18.) BIJOU & Westside Gunn x Migos x Rob Stone - Bad & Boujee (Cazes 'Porsche 911 Edit)19.) Dillon Francis & Marten Hørger- B2U20.) Cirez D - On Off (Henry Himself Remix)21.) Luke Alexander - Hold It Down 22.) Tame Impala - Let It Happen (Omnom Remix)23.) DJ Snake & J Balvin - Noventa (Tony Romera Remix)Upcoming Dates8/1 - Barstool - Nashville, TN8/2 - Memoire - Boston, MA8/9 - Strawberry Moon - Miami Beach, FL8/9 - LIV - Miami Beach, FLSupport the show

House music at its best! Let Dave Baker take you on a journey of discovery and aural pleasure as he brings you the hottest and freshest funky, deep and tech house releases every week. This week's tracklisting reads like a who's who of electronic music with a ton of A-listers filling the lineup and more that couldn't be squeezed in (sorry Mark Knight!). We've got the complete night out in 60 minutes with uplifting grooves from Jonas Blue, Jeremy Bass and Low Steppa before getting more mainstream with FISHER, Sonny Fodera and Gorgon City. In the second half we get down and dirty with Dillon Francis & Marten Hørger, Matroda and Alok bringing the beefy beats. If you love this mix please take a minute out of your day to comment against the episode 275 instagram post here: www.instagram.com/hothousehours/ Share the Soundcloud direct link with friends: https://soundcloud.com/hothousehours/episode275 Tracks released on July 18 unless shown. 1. Edge of Desire (Extended Mix) - Jonas Blue, Malive [Defected]

Jordan sits down with Bailey Kobe, also known in Web3 circles as Minty Fresh Vibes, to explore a journey that bridges narrative cinema and GenAI creativity. Bailey's film God Is an Astronaut, based on the Oprah Book of the Month novel, is a standout example of independent filmmaking meeting elevated tech.In this conversation, we dive deep into the power of Film3, Web3-native storytelling, and how GenAI can enhance the entire filmmaking process from ideation to execution. Bailey shares his creative process, his work in advertising, and how he secured the rights to direct God Is an Astronaut.This is a conversation rich with vision, craft, and what it means to build the future of Film3 with GenAI as a creative partner.Brought to you by ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠The Squad⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ and ⁠Film3™⁠-------------------------------⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠JORDAN BAYNE OFFICIAL WEBSITE⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠TWITTER⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠INSTAGRAM⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠LINKEDIN⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠SUBSTACK⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠------------------------------The Film3 OG and the Next Wave of Cinema Podcast is hosted by award-winning filmmaker and Film3™ originator Jordan Bayne. Through intimate conversations with visionary artists, creators, and technologists, the podcast explores how Film3™, a creator-first entertainment brand, is redefining the future of storytelling. Alongside The Squad, Jordan leads the charge to transform how stories are owned, made, and distributed in a new cinematic economy.------------------------------RESOURCE LINKS:⁠Film3™⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠THE SQUAD OFFICIAL WEBSITE⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠THE SQUAD TWITTER⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠THE SQUAD DISCORD⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠THE SQUAD INSTAGRAM⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠THE SQUAD YOUTUBE⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠------------------------------BIOAsian-American Writer/Director Bailey Kobe got lucky, and his first music videos became #1 music videos in France. Partnering with French producer Frédéric Imbert, a classmate at USC's renowned Peter Stark Cinema Program, to create (www.DoubleEntenteFilms.com), an innovative boutique production company with offices in Paris and Los Angeles, that, instead of chasing production around he world, works to bring international production to Los Angeles and New York. Clients have included: Louis Vuitton, Dior, Kenzo, Marc Jacobs, Saint Laurent (YSL), Moët & Chandon, L'Oreal, Lancôme, BMW, Mercedes, Lincoln, Mini Cooper, Amazon, Microsoft, Google, and many more.As a growing Writer/Director, Bailey's unique blend of EMOTION and COMEDY, has not only earned him earned him several Best Director, his casts Best Actor, Best Ensemble, and the films Best Feature awards. His work has been featured in Vimeo Staff Picks, Nowness, Funny or Die, VUDU Top Indie Pick, HULU Critic Pick and Most-Popular, and an iTUNES front-page.He has collaborated with an equally eclectic group of celebrities such as: Oscar winners Isabella Rossellini and Lupita Nyong'o, comedian Aubrey Plaza, leading man Orlando Bloom, fine artist Mona Kuhn, indie rock's Father John Misty, Victoria's Secret Angel Taylor Hill, TV's Ben Savage, French icons Johnny Hallyday and Marc Lavoine, Asian mega-star Kris Wu, Mega DJ's Laid Back Luke, Martin Solveig and Dillon Francis, Grammy nominated Big Sean, hip-hop superstar Travis Scott, silver-screen star Zendaya, streamer phenom Lilly Collins, the irrepressibly cool Zoe Kravitz and a handful of controversial figures including Kanye West.Beyond his love of his community, he has a literature grounding and a UCB improv background that breathes levity and naturalness, a focus on performers and collaboration. And his multi-cultural background allows his point of view to effortlessly include voices not yet heard in media.⁠⁠Minty Fresh Vibes Twitter⁠Bailey Kobe WebsiteGod Is An Astronaut Website⁠Click SUBSCRIBE so you never miss an episode.

01. Matroda - House x Pressure 02. Dillon Francis & Marten Horger - B2U 03. FISHER & bbyclose - Blackberries 04. HILLS - WTF 05. Cassian - SOS 06. Brammos - Back Once Again 07. Bingo Players & Grevvy - Back It Up 08. Wuki & Lee Foss - IDFWU 09. Chris Lake & Yael Watchman - On & On 10. ESSE - Work It 11. NXSTY - Pale In Comparison (Don Diablo Edit) 12. FOOTWURK & Ryan Nichols - Closer 13. Chapter & Verse feat. Nevve - Cookin 14. Bruno Bona, Esteban Angel - Sexy Back 15. Luke Miller - Make It Hot 16. NIIKO X SWAE - Disco Inferno 17. Travis Scott x Drake - Sicko Mode (Proppa Treatment)

01. Yves V - V.I.P. (Extended Mix) 02. Alok & Bjones - Left To Right (Extended Mix) 03. Pickle - Tipsy (Extended Mix) 04. Yves V, De Nuit - All That Mattered (Love You Down) (Extended Mix) 05. Swedish House Mafia - Wait So Long (REMIND Remix) (Extended Mix) 06. Armin van Buuren & JOA - Heavy (Extended Mix) 07. Yves V – Strike A Pose (feat. Barefoot) (Extended Mix) 08. ADD9, Amit Shauli - Alive (Extended Mix) 09. Dillon Francis & Marten Horger - B2U (Extended Mix) 10. Chapter & Verse - Cookin (feat. Nevve) (Extended Mix) 11. Steff da Campo x Loona - La Luna (Extended Mix) 12. George Alexander - Easy On Me (Extended Mix) 13. PLS&TY - Take A Chance (Extended Mix) 14. Bag Raiders - Hold Me (Extended Mix) CLASSIC OF THE WEEK 15. Deep Dish - Flashdance (Original Club Mix)

DJ Глюк - Techno Dance 2025 2 @ DJ Глюк 1. Deeper Purpose - Operate (Extended Mix) 2. Dave Toretto - Uh Vei Vei (Extended Mix) 3. BRANDON (DE), Lackmus & Kxne - Just Walk In (Original Mix) 4. Modestys - Dont Stop (Original Mix) 5. K69 - Gotta Let Go (Original Mix) 6. Erland Galjaard - Play Right (Original Mix) 7. Leo Berr – I Want Your Love (Extended Mix) 8. Band&dos - Dancefloor (Original Mix) 9. Miami Boys - Turn It On (JL & Afterman Mix) 10. Proppa, Rich DietZ, Smith & Sorren - Work (Extended Mix) 11. Dillon Francis, Marten Hørger - B2U (Extended Mix) 12. Dixie, Messy Jessie - Losing All Control (Extended Mix) 13. Azooland, KDH & Wrex - Hello (Extended) 14. TOYZZ - SexyBack (Extended Mix) 15. Sentinel Groove, Barry Du Nord - Ready or Not (Original Mix)

1. Rivo & Jaquet - Mess Around (Baby Baby) 2. Switch Disco & Tones & I - Hideaway (Sistek Remix) 3. EDX - Moyo 4. KHAG3 - Holding Me Down 5. Helvetic Nerds - Persistence 6. Leandro Da Silva - Magalenha 7. Chapter & Verse feat. Nevve - Cookin 8. Pickle - Tipsy 9. Tame Impala - Let It Happen (OMNOM Remix) 10. EMSKI, Shamblez - Bad Intentions 11. MARTA - World Of The Rave 12. bradeazy - Need Your Body 13. Rebūke - Erase (feat. Greta Bech) 14. Dekova - Telephone Talk 15. Dillon Francis, Marten Hørger - B2U 16. MORGANJ - On My Mind (ft. fwn) 17. Matt Faulk - Dream Of You 18. OOTORO - GHETTOBREAK 19. Tujamo, DJs From Mars & ALEX LNDN - Everyone Listens To Techno 20. Oliver Heldens, Poppy Baskcomb - Heart Cry

Welcome to the world of Hexagonia 01. [HEXAGON] NXSTY - Pale In Comparison (Don Diablo Edit)02. Andy Joyce - Lose My Mind 03. Costa UK - Jealous Girl 04. Bag Raiders - Hold Me 05. Lance Savali - TN's 06. Gorgon City - Loveless 07. FISHER x bbyclose - Blackberries 08. Lowbrain - StillLoveU09. [HΞXHIBITION] A V E - Hardcore 10. Christian Löffler - Free ft. Shallou11. Alex Breitling, Jyll - Light Year12. Bob Marley & The Wailers – Could You Be Loved (with LP Giobbi)13. Faithless - Fugative On The Dance Floor14. ESSE - Work It 15. Zonderling - Zien 16. Avilo x Franco BA - Free Your Body17. [THROWBACK TRACK] Don Diablo - Invisible18. [DEMODAY TRACK] Don Diablo x Nelly Furtado - Doing Nothin (Invisible Remix)19. Dave Toretto - Uh Vei Vei 20. Gold Lemonade - Good Time 21. Dillon Francis, Marten Hørger - Cut The Midrange22. Cloverdale - 100k Watts23. Arya - ON ME24. Cartoon, VALLO, KAZHI - Euphoria ft. Blooom REBRN & Oliver Marshak Hexagon Guest Mix25. REBRN & Oliver Marshak - Smash The Disco26. Oliver Marshak & Cafius - The Beat 27. REBRN - Fly 28. REBRN - Go29. REBRN & Oppaacha - Axe 30. [CHILL TIME] 1984 Overrun - Expired Memories

Make it Louder! Episode 564 of Make Some Music radio show with your host - Ruslan Radriges ♪ New track "I Want To Hold You Tonight" with Huvagen ► interplay.ffm.to/itp398 ♪ Discover this episode: ► band.link/msm564 Also new music by Ruslan Radriges in playlist. Subscribe: ► soundcloud.com/ruslanradriges/sets/rrmusic Follow Ruslan Radriges: ♦Instagram ► instagram.com/ruslanradriges ♦Spotify ► spoti.fi/2pRImzg ♦Facebook ► facebook.com/RuslanRadriges ♦YouTube ► youtube.com/c/DjProduserRuslanRadriges ♦VK ► vk.com/ruslanradriges ♦Apple ► music.apple.com/ru/artist/ruslan-radriges/541431482 ♦SoundCloud: ► @ruslanradriges ♦Yandex ► music.yandex.ru/artist/3961521 ♦iTunes: > https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/ruslan-radriges/id1480936940 #RuslanRadriges #MSM564 TRACKLIST: Ruslan Radriges - Intro 01. Hessian x Lar x Keepa - One Last Touch [Colorize] 02. Aurosonic & Aniolku - Fade Away [Aurosonic] [PERFECT TUNE] 03. Swedish House Mafia - Wait So Long (REMIND Remix) [Aeterna] 04. Synaptic Space & Anton Pallmer - Heartbeat [2Rock B Side] 05. Anton By x U-Jeen x Vera Novak - Poker Face [Interplay] 06. Ruslan Radriges & Huvagen - I Want To Hold You Tonight [Interplay] 07. Coast 2 Coast ft. Discovery - Home (Helslowed Remix) [Armada Captivating] [SOME LATELY FAVORITE] 08. Vipiem DJ - Every Word You Say [Revealed] 09. Dillon Francis & Marten Horger - B2U [1001] 10. Dyro & Dannic - Make You Dance [Revealed] 11. Sebastian Ingrosso ft. Celine Dion - A New Day [Superhuman] 12. Oliver Heldens x Poppy Baskcomb - Heart Cry [Heldeep] 13. MK ft. Chrystal - Dior [CRUDE Remix] [MOMENT OF THE PAST] 14. Ruslan Radriges & Tycoos - Full Of Stars 15. A.R.D.I. - You With Me [AVA] 16. Alexander Komarov - Olympus [Interplay] 17. Mark Sixma - Turn It Up [Revealed] 18. Robbie Mendez & 2ACES - Flashback [Revealed] Ruslan Radriges - Outro

01. Walker & Royce x Kyle Watson - Double Dutch02. Sam Feldt, Justin Jesso, Parson James - Lonely Tonight (Future Tropical Mix)03. AFROJACK, Martin Garrix, David Guetta, Amél - Our Time [TRACK OF THE WEEK]04. Argy, MEDUZA feat. Polly-Anna - Melodia05. Emmit Fenn - I Won't Let You Down (Linska Remix)06. NUZB & MALARKEY - Waiting For Ya07. Roxe feat. No1ah Papi - On The Corner [CYB3RSTAR]08. Calvin Harris, Clementine Douglas - Blessings (KETTAMA Remix)09. R3HAB - Tsunami10. Steve Aoki & Chapter & Verse feat. MERYLL - Easy11. ARTBAT - Galaxy12. TOYZZ - SexyBack13. Dillon Francis, Marten Hørger - B2U14. Sikdope - Small Talk15. DVBBS & Abi Flynn - Move A Little Closer16. Chris Lake, Bonobo feat. Alexis Roberts - Falling17. Alex Warren - Ordinary (David Puentez Remix)18. Jay Hardway - Pictures19. Korolova, Artem Pivovarov feat. Usyk - Fight for Life

01. Dimitri Vegas, David Guetta, Loreen - Pum Pum 02. Prospa, Josh Baker, Rahh - You Don't Own Me 03. Dvbbs, Abi Flynn - Move A Little Closer 04. Arty - The Edge 05. Nicole Moudaber, Castion - Get Back 06. Dillon Francis, Marten Horger - B2U 07. Byor - Crashout 08. Mike Posner, Steve Aoki - I Took a Pill in Ibiza 09. Kream, Ruback - Se Que Quiere 10. Julian Jordan - Champion 11. Nicky Romero, Barmuda - Fade Away 12. Groove Delight - Elektro 13. Chris Lake - Psycho 14. Don Diablo, Tseba - The Devil Works Hard 15. Julian Jordan - Don't Stop 16. Belters Only - I Love You 17. Above & Beyond, Richard Bedford - 'Til I'm Home 18. Chris Lake, Vera Blue - Chemistry 19. Tinlicker, The Boxer Rebellion - Diamonds (Further Than I Ever Was) 20. Lost Frequencies, The Temper Trap - Sweet Disposition 21. Camelphat, Vomee - Needed You 22. Camisra, James Hype - Let Me Show You 23. Rompasso, Chester Young - Focus 24. Low Steppa - Sin Pero 25. Local, Example - Head's Gone 26. Alok, Agents Of Time - Fever 27. Swanky Tunes, Shapov - Rolling Deep 28. Joel Corry, Jennifer Lopez - Get Right 29. Esse - Work It 30. Hatiras - Hypnotized 31. G-pol, Getcosy, Kiida - OBNAL (VIP Mix) 32. Fisher, Bbyclose - Blackberries 33. Martin Garrix, Citadelle - Peace Of Mind 34. Afrojack, Martin Garrix, David Guetta, Amel - Our Time 35. Control Room, Dashi - What's Your Motive 36. Oliver Heldens, Poppy Baskcomb - Heart Cry

The Collective Complex Foundation Art Series Mixes 001. CARL COX curses BLŨ out in an extreme show of brilliantly vile COCKNEY FASHION. CARL COX [unintelligible cockney] BLŪ I have no idea what you just said, or why you're yelling at me! CARL COX (Sarcastically) Well how's this—? “Ello, poppet!” In THE DJ storyline )which is technically storyline a, we've just discovered DJ DILLON FRANCIS used BLU — (originally CC) as a sort of horcrux for his darkest magical intentions. Now the DJS are in a rush to extract this device before time runs out. Wtf did Dillon Francis do? YO HE LITERALLY MADE HER INTO A POPPIT. What the fuck is a poppit. It's like a little fuckin— thing— witches use to store magical energy and when the spell is over you're supposed to destroy them— but he DIDNT and it came to life and it merged with CC! Yooooooo! Who is now blu Tha Gürū, because Chak Chel dissappeared— or sort of dissappeared— to aide in the magical assasination of Let me guess— No don't guess, you could ruin it. What. Don't literally ruin it. The show exists in a multiversial construct which means anything you say, or think, or guess could unintentionally alter the plot, and skew it into an array of infinitely possible dimensions! Oh no! But I already thought! Shh! No you didn't! Just replace those thoughts— with better ones z— I don't have any better thoughts! Well, make some up. Uh— ok! Shh, it's coming back on this is where it gets intense. I thought you've never seen this before I know! But I know it gets intense! Well, how do you know that?! BECAUSE I KNOW THAT ALREADY. {Enter The Multiverse} ENTER THE MULTIVERSE is getting intense. BLŪ WHAT. NO ITS NOT! I can't take it I just can't take it I just can't take it no more I just can't n THE SKY IS FALLING! WHY?' I don't know. Seems pretty intense though, doesn't it. FUCK YOUUUUUU DEADMAU55555555! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!! I am DEADMAU— *powers down* Ah, fuck. KATT WILLIAMS is coaching the NBC GAMES. KATT WILLIAMS Alright, b-ball time! Shirts! Versus skins! you can be skins, Jimmy Fallon. *winks* Ew. She's so fucking gross. I don't get it. Uh— what? No I can't. I'm wearing a suit. I'm sure it's fused to my skin, or something. (This is actually the VICE AGENT version of the dude, who is wired head to toe. If he takes his shirt off, it will blow his cover.) SKINS. Fuck. L E G E N D S HE DUPED YOU! I BELIEVE THAT! He's good at everything! Especially things like that! WE'LL KILL HIM! NO ONE CAN KILL HIM. HE IS IMMORTAL. –doesn't mean we can't try. *dramatic music* [beat] WHAT?! I SAID– I CAN'T HEAR YOU, THERE'S A HELLICOPTER LEVITATING DIRECTLY OVER US! I KNOW! THAT'S WHY I WAS YELLING TOO, IT'S JUST– [Suddenly they realize, it is the he of who they speak hovering in the helicopter.] *GASP* DOn'T. {it's too late. He unloads a clip from an automatic rifle] THOSE ARE BANNED IN EUROPE. YOU COULD HAVE FOOLED ME! I KNOW I COULD HAVE! BECAUSE YOU ARE QUITE OBVIOUSLY EASILY FOOLED! ENOUGH. The helicopter scoops down and unrolls a ladder. W–wait! ARE YOU GETTING IN THE HELLICOPTER WITH HIM?! (dramatically) It appears so. WHAT. YES! YES I AM GETTING INTO THE HELLICOPTER. ARE YOU GONNA SHOOT AT ME *confused* *shurgs* (he gives up) ..of course not. Well then, I believe it is YOU that has been duped. WHAT!??!? GOOD DAY, SIR. They really nominated Stephen Colbert for an Emmy, and then fired him the next day. What on Earth. What did you do at the party, bro? Be honest! They literally we're like, Wednesday: You're nominated for an Emmy award! Thursday: You're cancelled! Cancelled, bro. How do you cancel the late show? That was David Letterman. The whole point of a show like that is so it goes on forever! Nope, cancelled! Daaaamn. You better win that Emmy now, bruh. {Enter The Multiverse} Copyright The Collective Complex © [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] © 2025 All Rights Reserved -Ū. HOW THE FUCK DID WAYNE BRADY GET IN HERE! I dont know how Wayne Brady got in here! Keep an eye on him. I heard he's polyscientific in his sexual proclivities. Oh. Okay then.

CARL COX curses BLŨ out in an extreme show of brilliantly vile COCKNEY FASHION. CARL COX [unintelligible cockney] BLŪ I have no idea what you just said, or why you're yelling at me! CARL COX (Sarcastically) Well how's this—? “Ello, poppet!” In THE DJ storyline )which is technically storyline a, we've just discovered DJ DILLON FRANCIS used BLU — (originally CC) as a sort of horcrux for his darkest magical intentions. Now the DJS are in a rush to extract this device before time runs out. Wtf did Dillon Francis do? YO HE LITERALLY MADE HER INTO A POPPIT. What the fuck is a poppit. It's like a little fuckin— thing— witches use to store magical energy and when the spell is over you're supposed to destroy them— but he DIDNT and it came to life and it merged with CC! Yooooooo! Who is now blu Tha Gürū, because Chak Chel dissappeared— or sort of dissappeared— to aide in the magical assasination of Let me guess— No don't guess, you could ruin it. What. Don't literally ruin it. The show exists in a multiversial construct which means anything you say, or think, or guess could unintentionally alter the plot, and skew it into an array of infinitely possible dimensions! Oh no! But I already thought! Shh! No you didn't! Just replace those thoughts— with better ones z— I don't have any better thoughts! Well, make some up. Uh— ok! Shh, it's coming back on this is where it gets intense. I thought you've never seen this before I know! But I know it gets intense! Well, how do you know that?! BECAUSE I KNOW THAT ALREADY. {Enter The Multiverse} ENTER THE MULTIVERSE is getting intense. BLŪ WHAT. NO ITS NOT! I can't take it I just can't take it I just can't take it no more I just can't n THE SKY IS FALLING! WHY?' I don't know. Seems pretty intense though, doesn't it. FUCK YOUUUUUU DEADMAU55555555! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!! I am DEADMAU— *powers down* Ah, fuck. KATT WILLIAMS is coaching the NBC GAMES. KATT WILLIAMS Alright, b-ball time! Shirts! Versus skins! you can be skins, Jimmy Fallon. *winks* Ew. She's so fucking gross. I don't get it. Uh— what? No I can't. I'm wearing a suit. I'm sure it's fused to my skin, or something. (This is actually the VICE AGENT version of the dude, who is wired head to toe. If he takes his shirt off, it will blow his cover.) SKINS. Fuck. L E G E N D S HE DUPED YOU! I BELIEVE THAT! He's good at everything! Especially things like that! WE'LL KILL HIM! NO ONE CAN KILL HIM. HE IS IMMORTAL. –doesn't mean we can't try. *dramatic music* [beat] WHAT?! I SAID– I CAN'T HEAR YOU, THERE'S A HELLICOPTER LEVITATING DIRECTLY OVER US! I KNOW! THAT'S WHY I WAS YELLING TOO, IT'S JUST– [Suddenly they realize, it is the he of who they speak hovering in the helicopter.] *GASP* DOn'T. {it's too late. He unloads a clip from an automatic rifle] THOSE ARE BANNED IN EUROPE. YOU COULD HAVE FOOLED ME! I KNOW I COULD HAVE! BECAUSE YOU ARE QUITE OBVIOUSLY EASILY FOOLED! ENOUGH. The helicopter scoops down and unrolls a ladder. W–wait! ARE YOU GETTING IN THE HELLICOPTER WITH HIM?! (dramatically) It appears so. WHAT. YES! YES I AM GETTING INTO THE HELLICOPTER. ARE YOU GONNA SHOOT AT ME *confused* *shurgs* (he gives up) ..of course not. Well then, I believe it is YOU that has been duped. WHAT!??!? GOOD DAY, SIR. Lil Bitz They really nominated Stephen Colbert for an Emmy, and then fired him the next day. What on Earth. What did you do at the party, bro? Be honest! They literally we're like, Wednesday: You're nominated for an Emmy award! Thursday: You're cancelled! Cancelled, bro. How do you cancel the late show? That was David Letterman. The whole point of a show like that is so it goes on forever! Nope, cancelled! Daaaamn. You better win that Emmy now, bruh. {Enter The Multiverse} HOW THE FUCK DID WAYNE BRADY GET IN HERE! I dont know how Wayne Brady got in here! Keep an eye on him. I heard he's polyscientific in his sexual proclivities. Oh. Okay then. L E G E N D S CARL COX curses BLŨ out in an extreme show of brilliantly vile COCKNEY FASHION. CARL COX [unintelligible cockney] BLŪ I have no idea what you just said, or why you're yelling at me! CARL COX (Sarcastically) Well how's this—? “Ello, poppet!” In THE DJ storyline )which is technically storyline a, we've just discovered DJ DILLON FRANCIS used BLU — (originally CC) as a sort of horcrux for his darkest magical intentions. Now the DJS are in a rush to extract this device before time runs out. Wtf did Dillon Francis do? YO HE LITERALLY MADE HER INTO A POPPIT. What the fuck is a poppit. It's like a little fuckin— thing— witches use to store magical energy and when the spell is over you're supposed to destroy them— but he DIDNT and it came to life and it merged with CC! Yooooooo! Who is now Blū Tha Gürū, because Chak Chel disappeared— or sort of disappeared— to aide in the magical assasination of Let me guess— No don't guess, you could ruin it. What. Don't literally ruin it. The show exists in a multiversial construct which means anything you say, or think, or guess could unintentionally alter the plot, and skew it into an array of infinitely possible dimensions! Oh no! But I already thought! Shh! No you didn't! Just replace those thoughts— with better ones z— I don't have any better thoughts! Well, make some up! Uh— ok! Shh, it's coming back on: this is where it gets intense. I thought you've never seen this before I know! But I know it gets intense! Well, how do you know that?! BECAUSE I KNOW THAT ALREADY. {Enter The Multiverse} ENTER THE MULTIVERSE is getting intense. BLŪ WHAT. NO ITS NOT! I can't take it I just can't take it I just can't take it no more I just can't n THE SKY IS FALLING! WHY?' I don't know. Seems pretty intense though, doesn't it. FUCK YOUUUUUU DEADMAU55555555! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!! I am DEADMAU— *powers down* Ah, fuck. {Enter The Multiverse} ICONS KATT WILLIAMS is coaching the NBC GAMES. KATT WILLIAMS Alright, b-ball time! Shirts! Versus skins! …you can be skins, Jimmy Fallon. *winks* Ew. She's so fucking gross. I don't get it. Uh— what? No I can't. I'm wearing a suit. I'm sure it's fused to my skin, or something. (This is actually the VICE AGENT version of the dude, who is wired head to toe. If he takes his shirt off, it will blow his cover.) SKINS. Fuck. L E G E N D S HE DUPED YOU! I BELIEVE THAT! He's good at everything! Especially things like that! WE'LL KILL HIM! NO ONE CAN KILL HIM. HE IS IMMORTAL. –doesn't mean we can't try. *dramatic music* [beat] WHAT?! I SAID– I CAN'T HEAR YOU, THERE'S A HELLICOPTER LEVITATING DIRECTLY OVER US! I KNOW! THAT'S WHY I WAS YELLING TOO, IT'S JUST– [Suddenly they realize, it is the he of who they speak hovering in the helicopter.] *GASP* DOn'T. {it's too late. He unloads a clip from an automatic rifle] THOSE ARE BANNED IN EUROPE. YOU COULD HAVE FOOLED ME! I KNOW I COULD HAVE! BECAUSE YOU ARE QUITE OBVIOUSLY EASILY FOOLED! ENOUGH. The helicopter scoops down and unrolls a ladder. W–wait! ARE YOU GETTING IN THE HELLICOPTER WITH HIM?! (dramatically) It appears so. WHAT. YES! YES I AM GETTING INTO THE HELLICOPTER. ARE YOU GONNA SHOOT AT ME? *confused* *shurgs* (he gives up) ..of course not. Well then, I believe it is YOU that has been duped. WHAT!??!? GOOD DAY, SIR. Lil Bitz They really nominated Stephen Colbert for an Emmy, and then fired him the next day. What on Earth. What did you do at the party, bro? Be honest! They literally we're like, Wednesday: You're nominated for an Emmy award! Thursday: You're cancelled! Cancelled, bro. How do you cancel the late show? That was David Letterman. The whole point of a show like that is so it goes on forever! Nope, cancelled! Daaaamn. You better win that Emmy now, bruh. {Enter The Multiverse} Look at the pale ass people who can afford this place— I'm probably not even allowed there With much dishonor and bad distaste- You'd better stop coming around there If I spend my time out buying your price Mercy to the highest bidder You can call me anything you'd like But just don't call me a quitter If it's talk you want, I've got all the words For a stake, I'll buy you dinner In my house of hands, I've got all nine cards Hey Mary, your husband's a sinner I play all nine holes I lived all nine lives I spend all night In the The Panorama Room Smoke a parliament, parliament I just haven't the heart (The heart) To tell her You were part of it (Part of it) But I just sat down To write my love a letter When you know it's over (You know it's over) But you know you can't Forget her When you know it's over (You know it's over) But you also know That you just can't Forgive her And I just sat down And I just sat down And I just sat down To write my love a letter I write all my best lines In The Panorama Room And I'm back on prime time tonight But it's just lights out If I get back now I just might be up by noon But if I pass out In the town car I went that far As to turn back out For an hour, or a barback Oh wow, I — Look at the time Have a long night out I just lost my life At The Panorama Room It wasn't exactly the phantom But it just might have been Patrick And just like that, I need a back rub And a ballroom gown And an hour of heart talk But I just don't want all that, God I just gotta keep talking Outback from one But what's after all out? I'm no longer lost, I just wanna know How far till the next exit? When's wind a kite to fall back on? How many faxes till it makes sense? Cause it ain't been ten days yet, But I faked maybe seven or eight It is dangerous! A high stakes game, nothing makes sense Till just the end, then it hates to— Just rolls over, the next day raises And all you know is a tunnel And the smoke rising up from the long tail And really no hope goes there at all, But the words to a song And then they cut the lights off It is over; You don't know her, You can't love her— You can't move here, And there's no home sprung out of Hollywood; It was all a hoax, It was all just marxists, And now you really all are on your last dollar to spend, because in the end, truth is currency and we inTelevision really ain't in the business of truth in media; The honesty is honestly just as lost as you and I all are and yet— as proposed, We really are not as one, but so separate that it's possible, your stardust, and my horcruxes Are not that foreign to one another in terms of matter, but fall on us as gospels of one world to a whole other. You know that? It really has been a long drunk drive up the 101 in this classic car with the bucket seats and honest, I'm dying in the intertwined and reading these radio waves just as any old controller, but who knows really when it goes into the ocean, Seemingly out of control, But just turns back to shore, Such as a surfboard. — Seth Rogen. No, no dust— keep moving— It's just sandy beaches and trouble warring No, not now, keep off us— If trouble waves and shadows park this car, A storm is coming. And we were off to shore in the blue classic car, U-turned into her shore like a surfboard on the water. Don't ever do that again. I won't bother. You said “off road.” I didn't know that meant ocean. No, it doesn't go in the ocean. I spoke too soon. {Enter The Multiverse} Do you want me to die, Or bury your love like a secret ther I betray you, And portray you here in such a way as are kings and god, but of ruthless man, you are no honor or, or— worthy of such prize, as I, you ponder? Death seeks you and slowly surely is approaching and is as upon us the dog that barks and the wind that calls and the kiss that waits not as dusk but morning light, and do our calls upon us. And wait you then, these things I have here in my gate, and the knowing of the tide that does not moon, put sorrow? Like a lake it is thus ruined and by my time passed and even ye you, there hath it been not told, as told before the earth will shake with envy, and with pity, and with bore her such pride as slain thy son?! No! You do not any but gasp in these, my words as so you wore but tattered clothes as truths to these, no in mine wealth of heart and rich of soul, yet these bearing little truths have sown our end I wait Here slithers here the snake for singing crickets followed thy sound and thy voice to betray you; And thee I harp as though not to wait my tongue, my pride has pondered on this moment. O, I know and shall to thee my praying the honor of know not I that seek in weighing many days upon us; And though ye as many embark in flight and make my way and wonder where is but here the road to such a comet. Oh shit, he's asking about the other planet. Thank you. Yeah I— There's absolutely no chance in making it. It, by all standard and concept in the construct of time, is not possible. Your kind will be washed and diminished, and our time has come to again rule over our, to she whom you call “Earth”, not as our home, but as our daughter. You have known wise to honor her, our coming. Like omg what the fuck does this have to do with Jimmy Fallon. right. L E G E N D S: ICONS I guess it came through. Yeah, you're right. Yeah. CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR EMMY. Uhh… Thanks? I uh— we didn't win yet. Not with that attitude. Huh. Look at that. I guess you're right! [beat] —but wait, who are you up against? [The Festival Project ™] This is intense. Yeah, I'll say it is… We gotta get to the other side of that portal. I don't think we should be making any— — we should go through the portal—! —plans very seriously— and honestly I'm thinking— Or maybe— you stay here, and I'll go through the portal, and you tell me if you can hear anything once I make it to the other side! I don't know if that…works. What? Why not dude? It'll be great— Cause I don't know anything about portals, and honestly— —I'm thinking— I just want to make it past the Emmy's so I can get laid again—like really laid— I've been… paying… for it. —you want to skip going through a portal so you can get laid? By a decent— and by decent I mean free— lady who just happens to be single and in attendance of the Emmy's or any of the after parties— yes, actually! Yes! No! We have to go through this portal to see what's actually on the other side! I don't have to do anything! No, you don't have to do anything— because I'm going through the portal, and you're just—staying and making sure you tell me if you can hear me! I don't think it's that easy actually! But you don't know until you try. I'm not trying. You're trying. And I'm letting you because you're pressuring me! Shut up. You're starting to sound like one of my interns. If I was one of your interns I would be quitting, and hash tagging you already. If you were one of my interns you wouldn't be paying for company. What's that supposed to mean? Just—- {Enter the multiverse} Stop. What if all whores are just bored workers And all escorts personal massagers— What if all message boards are mating calls And all honor rolls are leader boards, And all board rooms are horse drawn carriages For faraway battlefields, What if nothing I offer even comes close To the dollar value of your most cherished call girl And what if anything I know about her Doesn't conform to my idea of a comfort zone? What if the anxiety you're eyeing me and getting high behind me with is just designed to bind my mind enlightening the lightning strike dividing my entirety? What if I want to know you know my known worth without words or surfaces? What if all I don't know is all of my whole world, And just the dollop of a thought could push you off the wall to fall from the top of the Rockerfeller plaza into art upon the crosswalk? What if I could touch that cross, and walk with the palm of the sword stretched out like a… What were you saying? I don't know something about the handle of a sword turning into another object? What if I could hypothesis not one, but all the conundrums in one stroke of nonsense? Stop already? For what. I was told I could have been bought and sold Had I dressed the part To drive off in the pretty corvette But how dare I not Look just as hard earned As her for dollar signs Although Somebody bought her all of that? What if all you are is just bullets in the gun And a wound for my brain And a heart to heal Without home or a umbrella As the rain comes down so hard It sends whole homes floating? What if all the remarks in my smart ass couldn't call you up in the form of laughter? How about that one? How does your back ache? How was your hour glass. Much much Longer And Harder Than An hour. How I broke my spell? I just shook her hands. I just put my tail In between my legs And departure Marks the time of Our new travel archive But With just the dust of lust From dusk till dawn The one you wanted Climbs upon the forest In another song Or story What you— One, Two, Three dice— The riddle Four, five, Six mice, the honor Six, seven— Someone's disrespected; Lessons! Eight, nine— Oh my, Someone's right behind us. Nor can I stop writing or whining about my desires, and deadlines coming up and signing off, but I'm still crying. So I never sold my sole, And yet, The light from it was stolen; Slamming doors and hard earned apartments, Multipliers and real bad liars And one liners And one sells signed autographed autobiographies Now how about that for a rabbit hole, Seth Meyers? You should work harder on your crossovers Then again, the rule of thumb is to just Put them all on the old drum code And it's just no fun If it's not on suicide watch Don't bother I don't brother, But I learned to love her. You know? Silly little game, this inconsiderate confusion, wind washed galleyways and fisherman to put you under, Degrading you very awaking for the patrons, faking it— No things haven't made sense since you ate it With which way Is the birthday cake? Mistakes the Ace as Satan Lately, anything don't matter but that's a laugh Still no dollar though, no Don't call her out— she just wants courage And witness to slaughter Hers the very lamb of truth And mother's daughter. Put your art to work, This is not a war, it's a fairway And it and your worth, It's a fair game It ain't make sense Till you get 8-6 out a bar that you own Under A. An Alias, B. Under the Name of an Accomplice or otherwise trustworthy partner to which not you call love, but perhaps a co-owner. (Or co-author.) Remember the time now? A shit. I gotta run. Where to? I don't know yet. Grey suit. The whispers of a game Blue tie White stripes Red lips, One aim and he doesn't think twice One name and he doesn't give once Two trips to the hallway, One gun in the holster, One bullet in the chamber, And one number you thought of. Four? …yes. I've got a secret, a dirty little secret. The Rock and The Kite XI {Enter The Multiverse} Copyright The Collective Complex © [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] © 2025 All Rights Reserved -Ū.

The Collective Complex Foundation Art Series Mixes 001. CARL COX curses BLŨ out in an extreme show of brilliantly vile COCKNEY FASHION. CARL COX [unintelligible cockney] BLŪ I have no idea what you just said, or why you're yelling at me! CARL COX (Sarcastically) Well how's this—? “Ello, poppet!” In THE DJ storyline )which is technically storyline a, we've just discovered DJ DILLON FRANCIS used BLU — (originally CC) as a sort of horcrux for his darkest magical intentions. Now the DJS are in a rush to extract this device before time runs out. Wtf did Dillon Francis do? YO HE LITERALLY MADE HER INTO A POPPIT. What the fuck is a poppit. It's like a little fuckin— thing— witches use to store magical energy and when the spell is over you're supposed to destroy them— but he DIDNT and it came to life and it merged with CC! Yooooooo! Who is now blu Tha Gürū, because Chak Chel dissappeared— or sort of dissappeared— to aide in the magical assasination of Let me guess— No don't guess, you could ruin it. What. Don't literally ruin it. The show exists in a multiversial construct which means anything you say, or think, or guess could unintentionally alter the plot, and skew it into an array of infinitely possible dimensions! Oh no! But I already thought! Shh! No you didn't! Just replace those thoughts— with better ones z— I don't have any better thoughts! Well, make some up. Uh— ok! Shh, it's coming back on this is where it gets intense. I thought you've never seen this before I know! But I know it gets intense! Well, how do you know that?! BECAUSE I KNOW THAT ALREADY. {Enter The Multiverse} ENTER THE MULTIVERSE is getting intense. BLŪ WHAT. NO ITS NOT! I can't take it I just can't take it I just can't take it no more I just can't n THE SKY IS FALLING! WHY?' I don't know. Seems pretty intense though, doesn't it. FUCK YOUUUUUU DEADMAU55555555! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!! I am DEADMAU— *powers down* Ah, fuck. KATT WILLIAMS is coaching the NBC GAMES. KATT WILLIAMS Alright, b-ball time! Shirts! Versus skins! you can be skins, Jimmy Fallon. *winks* Ew. She's so fucking gross. I don't get it. Uh— what? No I can't. I'm wearing a suit. I'm sure it's fused to my skin, or something. (This is actually the VICE AGENT version of the dude, who is wired head to toe. If he takes his shirt off, it will blow his cover.) SKINS. Fuck. L E G E N D S HE DUPED YOU! I BELIEVE THAT! He's good at everything! Especially things like that! WE'LL KILL HIM! NO ONE CAN KILL HIM. HE IS IMMORTAL. –doesn't mean we can't try. *dramatic music* [beat] WHAT?! I SAID– I CAN'T HEAR YOU, THERE'S A HELLICOPTER LEVITATING DIRECTLY OVER US! I KNOW! THAT'S WHY I WAS YELLING TOO, IT'S JUST– [Suddenly they realize, it is the he of who they speak hovering in the helicopter.] *GASP* DOn'T. {it's too late. He unloads a clip from an automatic rifle] THOSE ARE BANNED IN EUROPE. YOU COULD HAVE FOOLED ME! I KNOW I COULD HAVE! BECAUSE YOU ARE QUITE OBVIOUSLY EASILY FOOLED! ENOUGH. The helicopter scoops down and unrolls a ladder. W–wait! ARE YOU GETTING IN THE HELLICOPTER WITH HIM?! (dramatically) It appears so. WHAT. YES! YES I AM GETTING INTO THE HELLICOPTER. ARE YOU GONNA SHOOT AT ME *confused* *shurgs* (he gives up) ..of course not. Well then, I believe it is YOU that has been duped. WHAT!??!? GOOD DAY, SIR. They really nominated Stephen Colbert for an Emmy, and then fired him the next day. What on Earth. What did you do at the party, bro? Be honest! They literally we're like, Wednesday: You're nominated for an Emmy award! Thursday: You're cancelled! Cancelled, bro. How do you cancel the late show? That was David Letterman. The whole point of a show like that is so it goes on forever! Nope, cancelled! Daaaamn. You better win that Emmy now, bruh. {Enter The Multiverse} Copyright The Collective Complex © [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] © 2025 All Rights Reserved -Ū. HOW THE FUCK DID WAYNE BRADY GET IN HERE! I dont know how Wayne Brady got in here! Keep an eye on him. I heard he's polyscientific in his sexual proclivities. Oh. Okay then.

CARL COX curses BLŨ out in an extreme show of brilliantly vile COCKNEY FASHION. CARL COX [unintelligible cockney] BLŪ I have no idea what you just said, or why you're yelling at me! CARL COX (Sarcastically) Well how's this—? “Ello, poppet!” In THE DJ storyline )which is technically storyline a, we've just discovered DJ DILLON FRANCIS used BLU — (originally CC) as a sort of horcrux for his darkest magical intentions. Now the DJS are in a rush to extract this device before time runs out. Wtf did Dillon Francis do? YO HE LITERALLY MADE HER INTO A POPPIT. What the fuck is a poppit. It's like a little fuckin— thing— witches use to store magical energy and when the spell is over you're supposed to destroy them— but he DIDNT and it came to life and it merged with CC! Yooooooo! Who is now blu Tha Gürū, because Chak Chel dissappeared— or sort of dissappeared— to aide in the magical assasination of Let me guess— No don't guess, you could ruin it. What. Don't literally ruin it. The show exists in a multiversial construct which means anything you say, or think, or guess could unintentionally alter the plot, and skew it into an array of infinitely possible dimensions! Oh no! But I already thought! Shh! No you didn't! Just replace those thoughts— with better ones z— I don't have any better thoughts! Well, make some up. Uh— ok! Shh, it's coming back on this is where it gets intense. I thought you've never seen this before I know! But I know it gets intense! Well, how do you know that?! BECAUSE I KNOW THAT ALREADY. {Enter The Multiverse} ENTER THE MULTIVERSE is getting intense. BLŪ WHAT. NO ITS NOT! I can't take it I just can't take it I just can't take it no more I just can't n THE SKY IS FALLING! WHY?' I don't know. Seems pretty intense though, doesn't it. FUCK YOUUUUUU DEADMAU55555555! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!! I am DEADMAU— *powers down* Ah, fuck. KATT WILLIAMS is coaching the NBC GAMES. KATT WILLIAMS Alright, b-ball time! Shirts! Versus skins! you can be skins, Jimmy Fallon. *winks* Ew. She's so fucking gross. I don't get it. Uh— what? No I can't. I'm wearing a suit. I'm sure it's fused to my skin, or something. (This is actually the VICE AGENT version of the dude, who is wired head to toe. If he takes his shirt off, it will blow his cover.) SKINS. Fuck. L E G E N D S HE DUPED YOU! I BELIEVE THAT! He's good at everything! Especially things like that! WE'LL KILL HIM! NO ONE CAN KILL HIM. HE IS IMMORTAL. –doesn't mean we can't try. *dramatic music* [beat] WHAT?! I SAID– I CAN'T HEAR YOU, THERE'S A HELLICOPTER LEVITATING DIRECTLY OVER US! I KNOW! THAT'S WHY I WAS YELLING TOO, IT'S JUST– [Suddenly they realize, it is the he of who they speak hovering in the helicopter.] *GASP* DOn'T. {it's too late. He unloads a clip from an automatic rifle] THOSE ARE BANNED IN EUROPE. YOU COULD HAVE FOOLED ME! I KNOW I COULD HAVE! BECAUSE YOU ARE QUITE OBVIOUSLY EASILY FOOLED! ENOUGH. The helicopter scoops down and unrolls a ladder. W–wait! ARE YOU GETTING IN THE HELLICOPTER WITH HIM?! (dramatically) It appears so. WHAT. YES! YES I AM GETTING INTO THE HELLICOPTER. ARE YOU GONNA SHOOT AT ME *confused* *shurgs* (he gives up) ..of course not. Well then, I believe it is YOU that has been duped. WHAT!??!? GOOD DAY, SIR. They really nominated Stephen Colbert for an Emmy, and then fired him the next day. What on Earth. What did you do at the party, bro? Be honest! They literally we're like, Wednesday: You're nominated for an Emmy award! Thursday: You're cancelled! Cancelled, bro. How do you cancel the late show? That was David Letterman. The whole point of a show like that is so it goes on forever! Nope, cancelled! Daaaamn. You better win that Emmy now, bruh. {Enter The Multiverse} Copyright The Collective Complex © [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] © 2025 All Rights Reserved -Ū. HOW THE FUCK DID WAYNE BRADY GET IN HERE! I dont know how Wayne Brady got in here! Keep an eye on him. I heard he's polyscientific in his sexual proclivities. Oh. Okay then.

The Collective Complex Foundation Art Series Mixes 001. CARL COX curses BLŨ out in an extreme show of brilliantly vile COCKNEY FASHION. CARL COX [unintelligible cockney] BLŪ I have no idea what you just said, or why you're yelling at me! CARL COX (Sarcastically) Well how's this—? “Ello, poppet!” In THE DJ storyline )which is technically storyline a, we've just discovered DJ DILLON FRANCIS used BLU — (originally CC) as a sort of horcrux for his darkest magical intentions. Now the DJS are in a rush to extract this device before time runs out. Wtf did Dillon Francis do? YO HE LITERALLY MADE HER INTO A POPPIT. What the fuck is a poppit. It's like a little fuckin— thing— witches use to store magical energy and when the spell is over you're supposed to destroy them— but he DIDNT and it came to life and it merged with CC! Yooooooo! Who is now blu Tha Gürū, because Chak Chel dissappeared— or sort of dissappeared— to aide in the magical assasination of Let me guess— No don't guess, you could ruin it. What. Don't literally ruin it. The show exists in a multiversial construct which means anything you say, or think, or guess could unintentionally alter the plot, and skew it into an array of infinitely possible dimensions! Oh no! But I already thought! Shh! No you didn't! Just replace those thoughts— with better ones z— I don't have any better thoughts! Well, make some up. Uh— ok! Shh, it's coming back on this is where it gets intense. I thought you've never seen this before I know! But I know it gets intense! Well, how do you know that?! BECAUSE I KNOW THAT ALREADY. {Enter The Multiverse} ENTER THE MULTIVERSE is getting intense. BLŪ WHAT. NO ITS NOT! I can't take it I just can't take it I just can't take it no more I just can't n THE SKY IS FALLING! WHY?' I don't know. Seems pretty intense though, doesn't it. FUCK YOUUUUUU DEADMAU55555555! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!! I am DEADMAU— *powers down* Ah, fuck. KATT WILLIAMS is coaching the NBC GAMES. KATT WILLIAMS Alright, b-ball time! Shirts! Versus skins! you can be skins, Jimmy Fallon. *winks* Ew. She's so fucking gross. I don't get it. Uh— what? No I can't. I'm wearing a suit. I'm sure it's fused to my skin, or something. (This is actually the VICE AGENT version of the dude, who is wired head to toe. If he takes his shirt off, it will blow his cover.) SKINS. Fuck. L E G E N D S HE DUPED YOU! I BELIEVE THAT! He's good at everything! Especially things like that! WE'LL KILL HIM! NO ONE CAN KILL HIM. HE IS IMMORTAL. –doesn't mean we can't try. *dramatic music* [beat] WHAT?! I SAID– I CAN'T HEAR YOU, THERE'S A HELLICOPTER LEVITATING DIRECTLY OVER US! I KNOW! THAT'S WHY I WAS YELLING TOO, IT'S JUST– [Suddenly they realize, it is the he of who they speak hovering in the helicopter.] *GASP* DOn'T. {it's too late. He unloads a clip from an automatic rifle] THOSE ARE BANNED IN EUROPE. YOU COULD HAVE FOOLED ME! I KNOW I COULD HAVE! BECAUSE YOU ARE QUITE OBVIOUSLY EASILY FOOLED! ENOUGH. The helicopter scoops down and unrolls a ladder. W–wait! ARE YOU GETTING IN THE HELLICOPTER WITH HIM?! (dramatically) It appears so. WHAT. YES! YES I AM GETTING INTO THE HELLICOPTER. ARE YOU GONNA SHOOT AT ME *confused* *shurgs* (he gives up) ..of course not. Well then, I believe it is YOU that has been duped. WHAT!??!? GOOD DAY, SIR. They really nominated Stephen Colbert for an Emmy, and then fired him the next day. What on Earth. What did you do at the party, bro? Be honest! They literally we're like, Wednesday: You're nominated for an Emmy award! Thursday: You're cancelled! Cancelled, bro. How do you cancel the late show? That was David Letterman. The whole point of a show like that is so it goes on forever! Nope, cancelled! Daaaamn. You better win that Emmy now, bruh. {Enter The Multiverse} Copyright The Collective Complex © [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] © 2025 All Rights Reserved -Ū. HOW THE FUCK DID WAYNE BRADY GET IN HERE! I dont know how Wayne Brady got in here! Keep an eye on him. I heard he's polyscientific in his sexual proclivities. Oh. Okay then.

CARL COX curses BLŨ out in an extreme show of brilliantly vile COCKNEY FASHION. CARL COX [unintelligible cockney] BLŪ I have no idea what you just said, or why you're yelling at me! CARL COX (Sarcastically) Well how's this—? “Ello, poppet!” In THE DJ storyline )which is technically storyline a, we've just discovered DJ DILLON FRANCIS used BLU — (originally CC) as a sort of horcrux for his darkest magical intentions. Now the DJS are in a rush to extract this device before time runs out. Wtf did Dillon Francis do? YO HE LITERALLY MADE HER INTO A POPPIT. What the fuck is a poppit. It's like a little fuckin— thing— witches use to store magical energy and when the spell is over you're supposed to destroy them— but he DIDNT and it came to life and it merged with CC! Yooooooo! Who is now blu Tha Gürū, because Chak Chel dissappeared— or sort of dissappeared— to aide in the magical assasination of Let me guess— No don't guess, you could ruin it. What. Don't literally ruin it. The show exists in a multiversial construct which means anything you say, or think, or guess could unintentionally alter the plot, and skew it into an array of infinitely possible dimensions! Oh no! But I already thought! Shh! No you didn't! Just replace those thoughts— with better ones z— I don't have any better thoughts! Well, make some up. Uh— ok! Shh, it's coming back on this is where it gets intense. I thought you've never seen this before I know! But I know it gets intense! Well, how do you know that?! BECAUSE I KNOW THAT ALREADY. {Enter The Multiverse} ENTER THE MULTIVERSE is getting intense. BLŪ WHAT. NO ITS NOT! I can't take it I just can't take it I just can't take it no more I just can't n THE SKY IS FALLING! WHY?' I don't know. Seems pretty intense though, doesn't it. FUCK YOUUUUUU DEADMAU55555555! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!! I am DEADMAU— *powers down* Ah, fuck. KATT WILLIAMS is coaching the NBC GAMES. KATT WILLIAMS Alright, b-ball time! Shirts! Versus skins! you can be skins, Jimmy Fallon. *winks* Ew. She's so fucking gross. I don't get it. Uh— what? No I can't. I'm wearing a suit. I'm sure it's fused to my skin, or something. (This is actually the VICE AGENT version of the dude, who is wired head to toe. If he takes his shirt off, it will blow his cover.) SKINS. Fuck. L E G E N D S HE DUPED YOU! I BELIEVE THAT! He's good at everything! Especially things like that! WE'LL KILL HIM! NO ONE CAN KILL HIM. HE IS IMMORTAL. –doesn't mean we can't try. *dramatic music* [beat] WHAT?! I SAID– I CAN'T HEAR YOU, THERE'S A HELLICOPTER LEVITATING DIRECTLY OVER US! I KNOW! THAT'S WHY I WAS YELLING TOO, IT'S JUST– [Suddenly they realize, it is the he of who they speak hovering in the helicopter.] *GASP* DOn'T. {it's too late. He unloads a clip from an automatic rifle] THOSE ARE BANNED IN EUROPE. YOU COULD HAVE FOOLED ME! I KNOW I COULD HAVE! BECAUSE YOU ARE QUITE OBVIOUSLY EASILY FOOLED! ENOUGH. The helicopter scoops down and unrolls a ladder. W–wait! ARE YOU GETTING IN THE HELLICOPTER WITH HIM?! (dramatically) It appears so. WHAT. YES! YES I AM GETTING INTO THE HELLICOPTER. ARE YOU GONNA SHOOT AT ME *confused* *shurgs* (he gives up) ..of course not. Well then, I believe it is YOU that has been duped. WHAT!??!? GOOD DAY, SIR. Lil Bitz They really nominated Stephen Colbert for an Emmy, and then fired him the next day. What on Earth. What did you do at the party, bro? Be honest! They literally we're like, Wednesday: You're nominated for an Emmy award! Thursday: You're cancelled! Cancelled, bro. How do you cancel the late show? That was David Letterman. The whole point of a show like that is so it goes on forever! Nope, cancelled! Daaaamn. You better win that Emmy now, bruh. {Enter The Multiverse} HOW THE FUCK DID WAYNE BRADY GET IN HERE! I dont know how Wayne Brady got in here! Keep an eye on him. I heard he's polyscientific in his sexual proclivities. Oh. Okay then. L E G E N D S CARL COX curses BLŨ out in an extreme show of brilliantly vile COCKNEY FASHION. CARL COX [unintelligible cockney] BLŪ I have no idea what you just said, or why you're yelling at me! CARL COX (Sarcastically) Well how's this—? “Ello, poppet!” In THE DJ storyline )which is technically storyline a, we've just discovered DJ DILLON FRANCIS used BLU — (originally CC) as a sort of horcrux for his darkest magical intentions. Now the DJS are in a rush to extract this device before time runs out. Wtf did Dillon Francis do? YO HE LITERALLY MADE HER INTO A POPPIT. What the fuck is a poppit. It's like a little fuckin— thing— witches use to store magical energy and when the spell is over you're supposed to destroy them— but he DIDNT and it came to life and it merged with CC! Yooooooo! Who is now Blū Tha Gürū, because Chak Chel disappeared— or sort of disappeared— to aide in the magical assasination of Let me guess— No don't guess, you could ruin it. What. Don't literally ruin it. The show exists in a multiversial construct which means anything you say, or think, or guess could unintentionally alter the plot, and skew it into an array of infinitely possible dimensions! Oh no! But I already thought! Shh! No you didn't! Just replace those thoughts— with better ones z— I don't have any better thoughts! Well, make some up! Uh— ok! Shh, it's coming back on: this is where it gets intense. I thought you've never seen this before I know! But I know it gets intense! Well, how do you know that?! BECAUSE I KNOW THAT ALREADY. {Enter The Multiverse} ENTER THE MULTIVERSE is getting intense. BLŪ WHAT. NO ITS NOT! I can't take it I just can't take it I just can't take it no more I just can't n THE SKY IS FALLING! WHY?' I don't know. Seems pretty intense though, doesn't it. FUCK YOUUUUUU DEADMAU55555555! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!! I am DEADMAU— *powers down* Ah, fuck. {Enter The Multiverse} ICONS KATT WILLIAMS is coaching the NBC GAMES. KATT WILLIAMS Alright, b-ball time! Shirts! Versus skins! …you can be skins, Jimmy Fallon. *winks* Ew. She's so fucking gross. I don't get it. Uh— what? No I can't. I'm wearing a suit. I'm sure it's fused to my skin, or something. (This is actually the VICE AGENT version of the dude, who is wired head to toe. If he takes his shirt off, it will blow his cover.) SKINS. Fuck. L E G E N D S HE DUPED YOU! I BELIEVE THAT! He's good at everything! Especially things like that! WE'LL KILL HIM! NO ONE CAN KILL HIM. HE IS IMMORTAL. –doesn't mean we can't try. *dramatic music* [beat] WHAT?! I SAID– I CAN'T HEAR YOU, THERE'S A HELLICOPTER LEVITATING DIRECTLY OVER US! I KNOW! THAT'S WHY I WAS YELLING TOO, IT'S JUST– [Suddenly they realize, it is the he of who they speak hovering in the helicopter.] *GASP* DOn'T. {it's too late. He unloads a clip from an automatic rifle] THOSE ARE BANNED IN EUROPE. YOU COULD HAVE FOOLED ME! I KNOW I COULD HAVE! BECAUSE YOU ARE QUITE OBVIOUSLY EASILY FOOLED! ENOUGH. The helicopter scoops down and unrolls a ladder. W–wait! ARE YOU GETTING IN THE HELLICOPTER WITH HIM?! (dramatically) It appears so. WHAT. YES! YES I AM GETTING INTO THE HELLICOPTER. ARE YOU GONNA SHOOT AT ME? *confused* *shurgs* (he gives up) ..of course not. Well then, I believe it is YOU that has been duped. WHAT!??!? GOOD DAY, SIR. Lil Bitz They really nominated Stephen Colbert for an Emmy, and then fired him the next day. What on Earth. What did you do at the party, bro? Be honest! They literally we're like, Wednesday: You're nominated for an Emmy award! Thursday: You're cancelled! Cancelled, bro. How do you cancel the late show? That was David Letterman. The whole point of a show like that is so it goes on forever! Nope, cancelled! Daaaamn. You better win that Emmy now, bruh. {Enter The Multiverse} Look at the pale ass people who can afford this place— I'm probably not even allowed there With much dishonor and bad distaste- You'd better stop coming around there If I spend my time out buying your price Mercy to the highest bidder You can call me anything you'd like But just don't call me a quitter If it's talk you want, I've got all the words For a stake, I'll buy you dinner In my house of hands, I've got all nine cards Hey Mary, your husband's a sinner I play all nine holes I lived all nine lives I spend all night In the The Panorama Room Smoke a parliament, parliament I just haven't the heart (The heart) To tell her You were part of it (Part of it) But I just sat down To write my love a letter When you know it's over (You know it's over) But you know you can't Forget her When you know it's over (You know it's over) But you also know That you just can't Forgive her And I just sat down And I just sat down And I just sat down To write my love a letter I write all my best lines In The Panorama Room And I'm back on prime time tonight But it's just lights out If I get back now I just might be up by noon But if I pass out In the town car I went that far As to turn back out For an hour, or a barback Oh wow, I — Look at the time Have a long night out I just lost my life At The Panorama Room It wasn't exactly the phantom But it just might have been Patrick And just like that, I need a back rub And a ballroom gown And an hour of heart talk But I just don't want all that, God I just gotta keep talking Outback from one But what's after all out? I'm no longer lost, I just wanna know How far till the next exit? When's wind a kite to fall back on? How many faxes till it makes sense? Cause it ain't been ten days yet, But I faked maybe seven or eight It is dangerous! A high stakes game, nothing makes sense Till just the end, then it hates to— Just rolls over, the next day raises And all you know is a tunnel And the smoke rising up from the long tail And really no hope goes there at all, But the words to a song And then they cut the lights off It is over; You don't know her, You can't love her— You can't move here, And there's no home sprung out of Hollywood; It was all a hoax, It was all just marxists, And now you really all are on your last dollar to spend, because in the end, truth is currency and we inTelevision really ain't in the business of truth in media; The honesty is honestly just as lost as you and I all are and yet— as proposed, We really are not as one, but so separate that it's possible, your stardust, and my horcruxes Are not that foreign to one another in terms of matter, but fall on us as gospels of one world to a whole other. You know that? It really has been a long drunk drive up the 101 in this classic car with the bucket seats and honest, I'm dying in the intertwined and reading these radio waves just as any old controller, but who knows really when it goes into the ocean, Seemingly out of control, But just turns back to shore, Such as a surfboard. — Seth Rogen. No, no dust— keep moving— It's just sandy beaches and trouble warring No, not now, keep off us— If trouble waves and shadows park this car, A storm is coming. And we were off to shore in the blue classic car, U-turned into her shore like a surfboard on the water. Don't ever do that again. I won't bother. You said “off road.” I didn't know that meant ocean. No, it doesn't go in the ocean. I spoke too soon. {Enter The Multiverse} Do you want me to die, Or bury your love like a secret ther I betray you, And portray you here in such a way as are kings and god, but of ruthless man, you are no honor or, or— worthy of such prize, as I, you ponder? Death seeks you and slowly surely is approaching and is as upon us the dog that barks and the wind that calls and the kiss that waits not as dusk but morning light, and do our calls upon us. And wait you then, these things I have here in my gate, and the knowing of the tide that does not moon, put sorrow? Like a lake it is thus ruined and by my time passed and even ye you, there hath it been not told, as told before the earth will shake with envy, and with pity, and with bore her such pride as slain thy son?! No! You do not any but gasp in these, my words as so you wore but tattered clothes as truths to these, no in mine wealth of heart and rich of soul, yet these bearing little truths have sown our end I wait Here slithers here the snake for singing crickets followed thy sound and thy voice to betray you; And thee I harp as though not to wait my tongue, my pride has pondered on this moment. O, I know and shall to thee my praying the honor of know not I that seek in weighing many days upon us; And though ye as many embark in flight and make my way and wonder where is but here the road to such a comet. Oh shit, he's asking about the other planet. Thank you. Yeah I— There's absolutely no chance in making it. It, by all standard and concept in the construct of time, is not possible. Your kind will be washed and diminished, and our time has come to again rule over our, to she whom you call “Earth”, not as our home, but as our daughter. You have known wise to honor her, our coming. Like omg what the fuck does this have to do with Jimmy Fallon. right. L E G E N D S: ICONS I guess it came through. Yeah, you're right. Yeah. CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR EMMY. Uhh… Thanks? I uh— we didn't win yet. Not with that attitude. Huh. Look at that. I guess you're right! [beat] —but wait, who are you up against? [The Festival Project ™] This is intense. Yeah, I'll say it is… We gotta get to the other side of that portal. I don't think we should be making any— — we should go through the portal—! —plans very seriously— and honestly I'm thinking— Or maybe— you stay here, and I'll go through the portal, and you tell me if you can hear anything once I make it to the other side! I don't know if that…works. What? Why not dude? It'll be great— Cause I don't know anything about portals, and honestly— —I'm thinking— I just want to make it past the Emmy's so I can get laid again—like really laid— I've been… paying… for it. —you want to skip going through a portal so you can get laid? By a decent— and by decent I mean free— lady who just happens to be single and in attendance of the Emmy's or any of the after parties— yes, actually! Yes! No! We have to go through this portal to see what's actually on the other side! I don't have to do anything! No, you don't have to do anything— because I'm going through the portal, and you're just—staying and making sure you tell me if you can hear me! I don't think it's that easy actually! But you don't know until you try. I'm not trying. You're trying. And I'm letting you because you're pressuring me! Shut up. You're starting to sound like one of my interns. If I was one of your interns I would be quitting, and hash tagging you already. If you were one of my interns you wouldn't be paying for company. What's that supposed to mean? Just—- {Enter the multiverse} Stop. What if all whores are just bored workers And all escorts personal massagers— What if all message boards are mating calls And all honor rolls are leader boards, And all board rooms are horse drawn carriages For faraway battlefields, What if nothing I offer even comes close To the dollar value of your most cherished call girl And what if anything I know about her Doesn't conform to my idea of a comfort zone? What if the anxiety you're eyeing me and getting high behind me with is just designed to bind my mind enlightening the lightning strike dividing my entirety? What if I want to know you know my known worth without words or surfaces? What if all I don't know is all of my whole world, And just the dollop of a thought could push you off the wall to fall from the top of the Rockerfeller plaza into art upon the crosswalk? What if I could touch that cross, and walk with the palm of the sword stretched out like a… What were you saying? I don't know something about the handle of a sword turning into another object? What if I could hypothesis not one, but all the conundrums in one stroke of nonsense? Stop already? For what. I was told I could have been bought and sold Had I dressed the part To drive off in the pretty corvette But how dare I not Look just as hard earned As her for dollar signs Although Somebody bought her all of that? What if all you are is just bullets in the gun And a wound for my brain And a heart to heal Without home or a umbrella As the rain comes down so hard It sends whole homes floating? What if all the remarks in my smart ass couldn't call you up in the form of laughter? How about that one? How does your back ache? How was your hour glass. Much much Longer And Harder Than An hour. How I broke my spell? I just shook her hands. I just put my tail In between my legs And departure Marks the time of Our new travel archive But With just the dust of lust From dusk till dawn The one you wanted Climbs upon the forest In another song Or story What you— One, Two, Three dice— The riddle Four, five, Six mice, the honor Six, seven— Someone's disrespected; Lessons! Eight, nine— Oh my, Someone's right behind us. Nor can I stop writing or whining about my desires, and deadlines coming up and signing off, but I'm still crying. So I never sold my sole, And yet, The light from it was stolen; Slamming doors and hard earned apartments, Multipliers and real bad liars And one liners And one sells signed autographed autobiographies Now how about that for a rabbit hole, Seth Meyers? You should work harder on your crossovers Then again, the rule of thumb is to just Put them all on the old drum code And it's just no fun If it's not on suicide watch Don't bother I don't brother, But I learned to love her. You know? Silly little game, this inconsiderate confusion, wind washed galleyways and fisherman to put you under, Degrading you very awaking for the patrons, faking it— No things haven't made sense since you ate it With which way Is the birthday cake? Mistakes the Ace as Satan Lately, anything don't matter but that's a laugh Still no dollar though, no Don't call her out— she just wants courage And witness to slaughter Hers the very lamb of truth And mother's daughter. Put your art to work, This is not a war, it's a fairway And it and your worth, It's a fair game It ain't make sense Till you get 8-6 out a bar that you own Under A. An Alias, B. Under the Name of an Accomplice or otherwise trustworthy partner to which not you call love, but perhaps a co-owner. (Or co-author.) Remember the time now? A shit. I gotta run. Where to? I don't know yet. Grey suit. The whispers of a game Blue tie White stripes Red lips, One aim and he doesn't think twice One name and he doesn't give once Two trips to the hallway, One gun in the holster, One bullet in the chamber, And one number you thought of. Four? …yes. I've got a secret, a dirty little secret. The Rock and The Kite XI {Enter The Multiverse} Copyright The Collective Complex © [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] © 2025 All Rights Reserved -Ū.

1. Gorgon City - Loveless 2. Camisra & James Hype - Let Me Show You 3. (SR) Steve Aoki & Chapter & Verse - Easy (ft. MERYLL) 4. Matroda - House x Pressure 5. Dillon Francis, Marten H'f8rger - B2U 6. (EP) Lucas & Steve - Feel So Good 7. Martin Garrix & Citadelle - Peace Of Mind 8. Lucas & Steve - Retro 9. (AOW) R3HAB - Tsunami 10. Sonny Fodera x Jazzy - All This Time 11. Audien feat. Rory Hope - Lose It All 12. (EP) Lucas & Steve - Wasting Time 13. Justin Mylo - Flashlight 14. Joel Corry x Jem Cooke - Daydream 15. Lucas & Steve - Legacy 16. Oliver Heldens, Poppy Baskcomb - Heart Cry 17. Showtek, .EXA - Slow Down Pt. 2 18. Jax Jones ft Emei - Stereo

1. Gorgon City - Loveless 2. Camisra & James Hype - Let Me Show You 3. (SR) Steve Aoki & Chapter & Verse - Easy (ft. MERYLL) 4. Matroda - House x Pressure 5. Dillon Francis, Marten H'f8rger - B2U 6. (EP) Lucas & Steve - Feel So Good 7. Martin Garrix & Citadelle - Peace Of Mind 8. Lucas & Steve - Retro 9. (AOW) R3HAB - Tsunami 10. Sonny Fodera x Jazzy - All This Time 11. Audien feat. Rory Hope - Lose It All 12. (EP) Lucas & Steve - Wasting Time 13. Justin Mylo - Flashlight 14. Joel Corry x Jem Cooke - Daydream 15. Lucas & Steve - Legacy 16. Oliver Heldens, Poppy Baskcomb - Heart Cry 17. Showtek, .EXA - Slow Down Pt. 2 18. Jax Jones ft Emei - Stereo

Alison plays new music from WHIPPED CREAM, Rohaan, Viperactive, OddKidOut, GRiZ, Wooli, Wuki, Jon Casey & more!Don't forget to rate & review on all of your favorite podcast apps! Post your comments on twitter @awonderland #RADIOWONDERLANDTracklist:RADIO WONDERLAND OPENER 00:00 Alison Wonderland - Again? Fuck 00:42 WHIPPED CREAM - u don't just wanna die 03:43 Jon Casey & PAID!NFULL - EARTHQUAKE 06:43 OddKidOut ft. TIMID - I WANNA KNOW 09:36 Wuki, Lee Foss - IDFWU 11:52 Whethan, GiGi Grombacher - Make a Scene 15:28 Dillon Francis, Marten Hørger - Cut The Midrange 18:19 Doechii - Nissan Altima (Whethan Remix) 20:48 BØRNS - ELECTRIC LOVE (AVELLO REMIX) 22:49 Rohaan - Pelican 25:28 Baclash - 2x2x2x2 27:31 Bafu - Shimmer 30:43 Chase & Status ft. Takura - Don't Be Scared 33:00 John Summit, Sub Focus ft. Julia Church - Go Back (GRiZ flip) 36:38 Jai Wolf - All Your Love 40:05 Lunnari - EASY TO LEAVE 42:33 Bafu - Genesis Sequence 45:05 Rohaan - Got No _3 48:24 Virtual Riot & Viperactive - What U Got 51:23 Charli XCX - pink diamond (Jukaa Bootleg) 54:03 Marlon Hoffstadt, bbyclose - Heads Will Roll 56:24

Tracklist:1. Deny - Canção Do Mar2. Th;en & Gioli & Assia - Give You My Love 3. Adriatique, Astro - Dangerous Feelings 4. Innellea x SCRIPT - Trust 5. Jonas Blue, Malive - Edge of Desire 6. Alta Avenue - As You Walk Away (Oliver Sullivan Remix)7. Chris Lake, Riovaz - Round After Round 8. Dillon Francis, MARTEN HØRGER - B2U9. Calvin Harris, Clementine Douglas - Blessings (Cassian Remix)10. Gorgon City - Loveless 11. FISHER (OZ), bbyclose - Blackberries 12. Chris Lorenzo, Max Styler, Audio Bullys - London's On Fire 13. Tujamo, DJs From Mars, ALEX LNDN - Everyone Listens To Techno 14. Oliver Heldens x Poppy Baskcomb - Heart Cry 15. Argy x Meduza feat. PollyAnna - Melodia 16. AFROJACK, Martin Garrix, David Guetta & Amél - Our Time 17. Camisra & James Hype - Let Me Show You 18. Masters at Work - Work (Skytech Remix)19. Alok & Agents Of Time - Fever 20. Toman - Verano En NY 21. Samm (BE) - Body Language 22. Kyle Watson, Walker & Royce - Double Dutch 23. Crystal Fighters & Claptone - Turn Up The Love (Club Mix)Subscreve o Dance Sessions na Apple Podcasts para o download exclusivo, são 60 minutos de música electronica semanais, segue a playlist semanal no Spotify e ainda no Facebook, TikTok e Instagram.http://spoti.fi/2Aacg8K http://apple.co/2y1RUwE Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Enjoy this new mix by our very own mixmasters! Enjoy tracks from artists such as Tiesto, David Guetta, Joel Corry, Alphaville and more. Tracklist below. Follow us on all socials:@aliveeventsentLooking for entertainment for your next event? Aliveevents.com/availabilityTracklist: 00:00:00 Tiësto & Sexyy Red - OMG! (DJcity Intro - Clean)00:02:07 Richard Vission - Bom Bom Bom00:04:30 Taio Cruz ft Ludacris - Break Your Heart (Pigpen Ecstasy Edit) Clean00:06:52 Cajmere & Green Velvet - Brighter Days - KidCutUp vs Alok Acap Intro00:09:29 Sean Paul - We Be Burnin' (Esox Remix) Clean00:12:44 Tiesto x Odd Mob & Goodboys - Won't Be Possible (DJ Precise Clapapella Intro) (Clean Short)00:13:44 David Guetta ft. Akon & Ne-Yo - Play Hard - Joan Qveralt Remix00:15:07 Rihanna - Only Girl (In The World) - BVRNOUT Remix00:17:22 Jay Sean - Down - Robin Roij & Merco Remix00:19:22 Daft Punk - One More Time - Marciiano Remix00:20:52 The Nightcrawlers x Endor x Criminal Noise & Loki Ft. Jean Luc - Push The Feeling x Pump It Up x Piano Track (Jean Luc Mashup) [Intro Clean]00:23:22 Benny Benassi ft Gary Go vs Lucas & Steve - Cinema (Smassh Mainstage Mix) CK Cut Clean00:24:52 Joel Corry x Icona Pop x Rain Radio - Desire (Intro Clean)00:27:23 Icona Pop - I Love It - Mark Anthony Phatt Bass Edit (Clean)00:28:24 Dillon Francis & Skrillex - Bun Up The Dance - Rogerson Remix00:30:08 Sabrina Carpenter, Sebastian Ingrosso, Tommy Trash - Espresso (Deville VIP 'Reload' Bootleg) Clean - Teenwolf Drop00:32:01 David Guetta, Alphaville & Ava Max - Forever Young (Clean)00:33:46 Peggy Gou, ACRAZE - It Goes Like (NaNaNa) (Deville House Quick Hitter) Clean00:34:53 Culture Beat - Mr. Vain - Aurelios Remix (Main)00:37:01 Calvin Harris Ne-Yo x Afrojack - Let's Go (Ardent Bootleg) Clean00:39:00 Afrojack - Chain Gang (Extended)00:41:11 Showtek - Slow Down (GESES & LUSSO Remix) (Clean Short Edit) Independent Label, Dim Mak Records00:42:47 Bob Sinclar - Sound Of Freedom - DJ Mag Remix 08 Danceability00:44:40 Dua Lipa vs. DNF & DJ Justin James - Houdini (Rye & Josh Stylez Edit) 00 Danceability00:47:07 House Of Pain - Jump Around - MOONLGHT Remix (Intro - Clean)

“Look what they eye unearthed,” leaning into the tip of my ear with the warmth and closeness of the coming waves, high tide approaching in the waning moon. “More secrets.” I replied. It was a question but also a statement— there was never such as this the luminescent trace of the glowing lava that was his force and might that I could not see for miles before he would even wander— first in twinkling stars and then later the wind itself and the birds, and then beneath the waves, like the quaking shake of a mighty oak anchored elsewhere and tied to the sea. “So you know.” I was hoping he would kill me before the next time I had to ever really know anything. He was the subject, and the predicate The wrong done, and the justice She was the pride and the prejudice But Judas brings the law Did you look in the box? No, I– [The Box Is The Box] –No, I haven't. Nearly three nights ago, a mysterious box arrived on the doorstep of an equally mysterious writer, who spends their time in isolation due to the often unannounced arrival of various ghosts, spirits, time travelers, and other figures by instant teleportation and other magical forms of transportation into their shabby New York apartment. Some of ya'll got so many air wick plug ins and scentci wax melts you don't know you smell like booboo. It's an illusion. You leave your house, You smell like booboo. I promise. Oh, God, I think I need a drink. Are you alright? Let me just–sit down for a second. Of course. My God. What's wrong. Look, i'm not supposed to say anything about this but. What's wrong? It's nothing, I'm just–I'm in a song. …what? A song! Is that all?! You don't understand. It's not a normal kind of song. It's– [takes a puff of inhaler] You wouldn't understand. Well what's so wrong about being in a song? Its not – a regular song–and it's not [gasping] finished! I still kind of wanted to be a comedian–but I knew I wasn't funny in the way that made sense to keep going and stand up there. I was still writing comedy, but I didn't know how to take myself out of it–the truth was, I was in a lot of pain. A lot of emotional pain that was becoming physical–and I didn't know what to do about it to break the barrier of nervousness and blank slate state of feeling the audience's perceptions of me more overwhelmingly than ever feeling myself. look at this song. I know huh. It's purple. Every time. It is purple. And what is that. Like a muted trombone? IS THAT A TROMBONE? Or a tuba? No, it has to be a trombone…becasue you can hear it slide– And that's what that sound is. What a sneaky rabbit. Super sneaky rabbit. So if i can see all this, I'm almost certainly sure the motorcycles outside and the slamming doors are meant to murder me. I'm sure that's what it is. You ever notice how being broke in New York makes you a bad person? Like, if you're broke, you're just automatically shitty. I never meant to be in New York broke. I never meant to be in New York, But I certainly never meant to be here and be poor, Poor in New York? Automatically a shitty person. Despite how you act. You can be a rich piece of shit— But the status is automatically “You got dough? Oh, alright. Carry on” That's the attitude in New York City. Crap people get by cause they got their hands on some money and the rules in New York say it doesn't really matter how you come by it, As long as you come by it. There's no real rules or real laws to it— Just “Get the money” Well god damn. This makes me nervous. I'm an artist. I've tried everything. I didn't mean to be the automatic enemy here. Of course not. But New York is a terrifying place to me, now, Cause I realized I can be a very sweet, very humble, very honest person— And that kind of shit doesn't matter here, really. It brings you no respect to be decent. It's about the money. So I'm a musician— which in New York also makes me like, Automatically not special, And I'm trying to just be a musician, and so naturally, I'm broke. Like broke in half. Like all my bills are late. But music is my solace. So I'm listening to music, And I'm listening to a song that is so beautiful, that I start to cry. The first time I heard it, it made me cry And I'm listening to it over, and it made me cry And it's so beautiful, and God is so beautiful And look at what God did, So I'm crying, And I don't even know what it is about the beauty of it that's making me cry, But it's making me cry, And New York hears me crying And New York goes “I'll give you something to cry about” And I open my email And there's a bill from my landlord reminding me how often I'm talked about due to my late payments— And I'm realizing I've been here two years and I still don't have any money, Even though I've been trying and trying And trying So now I'm crying for other reasons. Thanks a lot, New York. “I'll give you something to cry about” So I did. If there's anything worse than being black in a city that hates blacks— It's being broke in a city that hates broke people. So I haven't spent any money in awhile. Not even on little things, or things I need. I just stay inside, and work, and think And try and really try To figure out how to make money Without having any, or spending any. Cause you can have it, and spend it, but it's always a gamble. Maybe all I needed was a good cry. But now it's not for the right reasons I'm not crying cause something is so beautiful and look at what God did I'm crying because of what I'm sure is just the devil I'm crying for the wrong things Not because of something that's so very beautiful But because of something that's so very ugly With just a wave of the hand And the flick of each finger as it rolls into a crisp closed palm, A flick of birds fell to the ground, bursting with caws Below his stance, and in a flutter of feathers and wings, The evil master, unmoved and untouched, Untouchable in his weight and glory, simply only even mildly and barely smirks at all. He has defeated all and still somehow, not won. Some say it's sure to come, the thing that wants and gathers ties; Some say surely it is yet but withered and then sure again will come It has, five times, and barely waded, Waking in the midsts of my pure eye, The morning light and fog, aye? Ye, they remembers none but our Art, And I'm bound as sure by wing and force Is you to dozens of masses, And ships having sailed but one, Which I have flourished and kept And stocked with these, the masses And yea having spade, and having friends And having honor, there was none past kept and mine, sured; And wicked may as wicked be but evil none truer thou nones't had yet pured, and muted and gathered, I have, And woken and laid and barren and truths do'st tied, And there have been shooken and wait, And m faire'd and barred here, and hereforth My duty it is to forward, forward, my shallows For my shadow, For my golden hour has shined and now you, These caged shall fly, And these thoughts shall sing, And these hour conspired to miss my time daily, And these things, beytraying that— There have no times at all, These walls in holy temples kept, swaying and cadences, and wearing, and weary, And foreign and ayered, aye— and armored. And he, you, does not wish to know but also has known— and does not wish to see, but he, too has blinded, and does not wish to betray, and yet has been crowned, made with guilt and also Shattered, as it was, And shatters, as it came, the wave o'er all us and tide sinking under, and caves and rebels and heart laid bare to surf not suffer, Nor cap nor keeping, nor tied nor honor, No, honor her; No honor came and I have tied also, this tie to mine, and another, and another and another Now forward. Forward! Forward! Damn, Conan's monologues he going deep. Yeah, I guess. He's fine, right? Look, you don't need this. Just promise me. I am sorry. Mr Jimmy has it good, too good Little sister doesn't have a heart. But didn't know it Mister music made it in the industry, too hat Mister rager had a sip at dinner It was all dramatic Stars went falling Crashing down and All it is Ms. Martha Is mismanagement of energy All it is, Ms. Margret is a magnet And it hasn't happened badly since I had a handle on it But I still get sick of madness And I still get sick with city sickness Still, forget the dancer I was sitting on the show, In the audience With my mother, Oh the models, Dozens of them Blondes and ballet buns, the brunettes I was just a lost cause And I wanted it all, the tux and the bow tie I wanted you gone so I looked at it harder Until It became nothing but Clouds in the sky You were stardust I'm a comet Here comes crashing, Had to find the progress report Then I lost it Soggy in the sideways rain It was days and days Do you promise? That's a concept? Do you promise God will be alright, Cause I came running Sent them under cover Sent the men a message Send the man a hammer Sitting in a hammock No one homes the hostile If you don't have anything nice to say Then don't say anything at all And certainly don't come and go As often as you want to It's a game of control; you know The whites, when they still want to own you Somehow I'm all sub so honest, I just—wanted that But only for a man and never bow to another woman Even if on my honor I found us as equals And no one walks the earth as calmly As someone whose never had their lights out Or had their light put out Or their lights turned off Who are God now? Who's our God, man? Who's our God, Math. That's heavy weight, And if you want a biblical fate This is Fallon, And if you watch what you ate You cut calories And if you want the girl back Give it Californian And I'm not towrth much more Than the project housing, Or a handful of candy corn, Conan— But I phone in Oscars, Still no nuts for the rabbit, And if you wanted the bunker back— You can have it. I'm all hands down in a game of poker Heaven doesn't want it Gotta get drunk not once, but at all the goalposts, Gotta count one, not two, the show hosts Too few car parts Wicked, mazes, starfold, gazes Wishes, Martyred. (But pronounced mar-tired} V.O I think about jay Leno a lot. Lately, anyway. I don't know why. I like all the hosts. Somebody. Tell me why Dillon Francis looks like JD Vance. I think he's a clone. Tel me why I know who JD Vance is. They're clones. Tell me why. Back to the future here and now So. Where do you want to go? Anywhere but here. Anywhere but here is kind of far, are you sure you're up for it? Good one, doc Though head of the alumni chapter of the cult-within a cult—to which each African American cast member of Saturday night live is automatically inducted into— EDDIE MURPHY refuses to participate in the group's latest and most complicated ritual. Delivery. Uh, I didn't order any— Breadsticks. What. Breadsticks. I didn't order any— Just— The delivery man hands over the breadsticks. —take them. Oh…Kay. See ya. The delivery man reaches in and shuts the door himself. Uh… Lol is this the one where the mysterious breadsticks are delivered without ever being ordered, and then they end up being the best breadsticks in the world, but they don't know where they came from? Yes. I think so. Lol I bought a planner because so much I loved Joan Rivers, and I planned to fill it with all the places I should go— because keeping anything digital online was not only not working as far as remembering places I wanted or needed to be be, but it was dangerous, also. I was already being tracked, and I couldn't afford a new phone just yet. Eventually, but for now I was stuck to the same signal— which meant the same traces and the same trackers they had been limiting my under-the-radar mystique. As it were, somebody always knew where I was, and it was in the most unpleasant way so far—the only thing I really wandered was what made me so important anyway to begin with. I wasn't actually political in anyway, and still someone seemed to be trying to derail my life… or at least control it, neither of which was beneficial for me in the way that made sense. I wasn't having any fun, nor did I consider living indoors as payment— especially since indoors, there were also paid plants and stalkers, and now that I had begun to more meticulously document the things that were happening, it was easy to separate from delusions. I was actually being followed— but why? Either way, having a detailed. Calendar of places I could go, the ways to get there and even alternate functions within the same grid allowed more control than just staying in my apartment a sitting duck; that's how they were hurting me. They knew where I was— all the time, and it no longer made sense to fight it and try to make music under this kind of insane irritation; the music I was making wasn't the kind I wanted anyway, and whatever war they were fighting with m stark white girls motorcycles was simply not my war. I didn't have a war, and so there wasn't a fight, and so at the very least if I were going to be fucked with, it would have to be in public; that way I had more control to steer whatever was happening in my favor and collect the energy as mine instead of lost. I wasn't an insane person— but what had been happening at my apartment was insane, and so I left it with the understanding that these people worked and operated on a level of violence and ignorance I would never be able to comprehend; they were simply tools for the devil, which in any case, was always the lesser than God. However— because I was starting to figure out who I was, and that I had some sort of power, I knew that I was going to be attacked— because it seemed my power had at the very least not been figured out as to some kind of way to make somebody else money. I had been studying Michael Jackson and this was a key indication that the way his talent priovided a power which would be used as a service, he was very successful. His talent and training alone wouldn't have reapresented with such great reverence the ability to capture a global audience as such— but it was this power, almost as if it had been bottled up and altered, rebranded and sold and labeled with something everyone could not only love and understand, but by the hand of the media and its conglomerates, be hypnotized to worship, and this power simply put would not have been exactly what it was were it not for the eye of the media remaining in complete control of its distribution to the eyes and ears of the public. This thing which might have been the first of its kind but certainly not the last was in a sense model for modern superstardom— the live concert business had not sense much changed but built upon this super powered control of the masses by assimilation, spectacle, and of course the magic and illusion. But, and it it just so happened to perfectly brush up against my studies in esoteric knowledge that I happened to rub up against this— although nothing was of course by mere circumstance anymore, because whether or not I remained incognito was a wash, and I was being looked at by someone no matter what on the internet I did, or where I decided to go and in that sense was being fed these things, and yet with some Grace of God was allowed with it to be aligned with my own higher purpose in a way, I could observe that Michael Jackson was not in fact of course certainly just a dancer or singer or remarkable performer— he was truly a magician, and I was able to clearly recognize this language with with the energy that had used his vehicle for such a projection was speaking— not only this, I was able to clearly count out the markings and sigils and signs and symbols Michael was making in his movement; ancient arts, and magical symbols, traced so rapidly that it almost created a heat signature in a sense of the symbols that were being dictated, unknowing to the untrained eye. For the most part, I could only really assume that this is why these people were losing their minds— in his movements, Michael Jackson was literally carving ancient callings, glyphs and sigils I had so recently read about in magical studies that it was impossible not to laugh. This was in every sense of the word, ‘magic' but not in the normal way one assumes to be something unexplainable. Michael Jackson was casting spells to thousands of people at a time, in front of cameras and at high volume vibration, often times even implementing the use of light, color, and fire. These were not simple gatherings in mass for entertainment purposes— these were rituals, and in the modern day, still were or are— but I had noticed in a quick glimpse, from Michael Jackson 30 some odd years ago to Lady Gaga just having passed something like a week ago to an audience of the same size— that something was kind of wrong, now. The people had changed, and the specable had been done over and over, and the brainwashing of the masses had in a sense been almost complete— and so It wasn't some sense of confusion or unknowing the things that were happening to me in my own life and my own world— I too, was capable of these things, at that capacity, and had simply not been trained in the same sense of the ideal superstar, however— the things that were happening in my own life and in my own world were not difficult to grasp or understand— when one comes upon a power as such, it finds means to seek to control it and harness it for his own use and purposes. Perhaps it was the simple fact that in this way, in the way I get the dream had gone and the spectacle had been played out of the masses and the illusion was no longer as such— that the actual knowledge of distinct ancient wisdom that had been Michael Jackson's natural ability was distinguishable from that of Lady Gaga's training in the same formula, and that one did not equal the other, but in terms of business could equal to that as such as the masses had been manipulated to seek solace in these same things— and it was not illusion or grandiosity that I, even in my agingness, was still capable of these things; I had no doubt in my mind that I could sing and dance for two hours to audiences of hundreds of thousands— but this was not the question for the business or the media— the question was, would hundreds of thousands pay to see me, or rather— who was willing to front the means to hypnotize hundreds of people to become aware of me so that they would do such a thing. My talent and capabilities were undeniable— but my markatability might have been in question, because it was no longer simply a matter or chance or luck: the people chosen to figure such spectacle were chosen, hand selected and well trained to become media conglomerate superstars, even regardless of talent; perhaps this itself was the key indication that the world of the superstar itself had come to an end—it was no longer so much of a spectacle was worth it. Or, perhaps, because money had come between these ancient arts and symbols and languages being spoken by the superstars of old, that the magic in the literal sense had gone all the way away. The symbolism in the art had died, and so the singing and the dancing remained, but the God had gone out of it. Maybe that was the difference. The superstars of today were just the shell of the model that had been built on God, but the Godsense of it was no longer there— and so the magic no longer remained in effect, as the powers of magic that be are in all ancient arts and texts and forms attributive to The Source. Either way, I wasn't going to continue to be a sitting duck in my apartment in Brooklyn— there were too many indications that it had all been a setup from the shelter to the day I moved in, with the motorcycles and cars and CBS studios one block away. So the real and only question was, what exactly had been played at and who exactly was pulling the strings? I might at this point become a loose cannon: my son was estranged and as far as the people were concerned, I mostly hated New York— because the refined, clean cut and classy people I liked and wanted to be around saw me as the dirt and the grime I was fighting my way through just to simply exist— in my mind, this was a world that could be no more. I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I met sparrow in a cage I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress Keep writing I never thought I ‘d see the day Where i's taking lessons on Fallon From Michael Jackson That's ran That's a fan This is fame I'm insane I'm insane That's a fan Light the flame That's a fan. That's a fan. I like Sara in a dress I met sparrow in a cage I went up the rack, set the page on fire Nordstrom rack And I might take it back for the cash I like Sara in a dress Stay repressed Keep it dark If you kiss don't tell I will probably go to hell for just writing Try it In black ink, I got all spades, Ehy, Spare me the ridicule, the imbecile and I met Johnny in a cage I like Fallon in a dress, Obsessive, I'm dressed out Every day I leave where I do not live Where stalker crawl and haunt me Just to show the motorcycles Have desheveled my intelligence into Nothing And so with negligence, I leave the core of a rotting apple The foreign words of a doctor And You must call the king, says something far off But I wonder which one I wonder which one I so respect her honor That I no longer Follow my heart or my soul And I don't shallow But shatter to swallow So I let the sparrow Out of the cage I bought Sara A pair of pants And I haunt l Patrick Kirkpatrick in patches And haven't you read yet You're ready for forget the pageant? It hasn't happened yet! I love Sara in a dress I hate Fallon and his wife Keep the kids out if it Skull and crossbones Cross my heart and Really hope to the loveless Or else Someone might call my phone back It's on silent in my coffin Or wait— It's on vibrate. I'm obsessed with the way You're dressed And the name on your checks I guess I'm better for it I'll skip lunch if you think that's what's best And dinner, too If you deserve the best Then better have learned my lesson No sweat And to do, With you, Was then, Dinner through next supper All the love I had was Rubbed into something other than The glass I patted dry With microfiber With ever fiber of my being I want to be with you I should have just— Died, And then Did, and so next Life, Remind me not to Fall for it If i really wanted to know you,I would know you by now– If i wanted to have you? I would have had you already Nobody is a dancer after Michael Jackson. I just watched some shit that was like “What the fuck did I just see” The whole thing was just not right. It was-/ I was like First of all, it's Munich, 1997. I never really realized how terribly the world has changed; No cellphones, but the audience is lit, And the crazy thing is, you can tell that this is near the turn of the century because, when the camera is panning by the audience in the people, they're not looking directly into the camera or waving at the camera— not really. And clearly this is an all ages show, so there's children, so the interesting thing I'm finding out is that nobody's trained to look at the camera and wave and smile— except the babies on shoulders and shit. These kids— they're my age now, are the only ones that see the camera, and they look directly into the shit. Mi still can't do that, really— I'm theatrically trained. Haha If I see a camera, I try to act ‘natural' It's the weirdest thing to look at a camera and just start to work it. People at festivals now, the camera rolls by, Or the drone flies in, And they look deadass in the camera and start to work it. Not at this show. Munich 1997, I'm like “Damn, a lot of things is wrong with this” First of all, I love Michael Jackson, I look directly at this man, and I'm in my dirty peak so I have an instant— like a sex detector thing going on And I know people gave Michael a hard time when he was a live for being fruity and whatever But I'm looking at this dude, and I don't see fruit at all. I see 100% man. I see why people were mad at him. Cause I'm looking at this dude, 100% All I see is carnal, primal man. I'm like, “Yo, I see why they was mad at him” Because the camera kept panning to the audience And these people are losing their minds. They are coming out of themselves. They are UGLY CRYING, full out of body, Losing composure They don't know what to do. That's Michael Jackson. He's right there! And the place is huge so really besides these few hundreds of people in the front, Michael's just a speck, But he's working this audience like “Yo, you know who I am, I know who is me” And I'm realizing, that to these people That's their god. These girls are losing their minds m “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!l *crying inconsolably* Just UGLY crying Bitch, get it together . You all the way lost yourself Get. It together. She won't. This bitch. I can't get over this This one girl, They just keep going back to her Cause the whole show— And this is like 2 hours of pure non stop Michael Jackson, This girl, every time you see her, she's just ugly crying— And every time you see her Her cry is uglier and ugly I'm like “Damn bitch” “Daaaaaaang” So this is the first thing I see that is wrong. But there's a lot of things wrong here, Cause there's a lot of girls like this. There's just— hundreds of girls losing their minds, like, I've seen Beatles mania and thought that was crazy, Shit, I've even seen some people put out that kind of energy in the modern world for some dumb DJ's— That's their god— But THIS THIS Michael Jackson mania was mental illness That was hard to watch. That was people just Lost control. I'm thinking “Like goddamn. You— what?!” “AAagghhhhhhgahahahahahqhahahhahaha MICHAELl “These people are sick” But they are. And so is Michael Fame has gone too far, 1997; 12 short years before he died, by chance— So this is what I see, And then Michael starts dancing, And this— This is what I see; I see the only thing that can ever be what it was in that moment in time, as God being God: Michael Jackson. Shiny ass motherfucker, And so I'm watching this show, And all I see is a God being a man being a God being— Michael Jackson— And the whole thing is weird. But the worst part— Yes The worst part Was when, about mid show, Michael goes to do one of his slow, lovey doves songs, And like, this 6 foot 7 type body guard guy, Just pops up out of nowhere, Comes dead front and center to one of these little girls losing their minds, Runs up on her in an instant; You don't even have time to think— And just SNATCHES her— Snatches the bitch— “Ah!” then throws her up on stage with Michael— And he's still singing; this is his game, this is part of the show, he knows— But she doesn't know, And she's just lost her mind, She won't let go She's hugging and kissing on the dude, She's lost her mind, She's ugly crying She's on the floor, She's kissing his hand She's really lost her good goddamn mind— And they pan out to the audience, And all the girls that didn't get picked Are like WHY NOT MEEEEEEEREEEEE?!? THE UGLY CRIES ARE EVEN UGLIER NOW, They're like “Wh—what?” You don't know?! “WHY NOT ME” They're holding each other crying, Michael's just doing his thing, He's unphased, He's trying to play along; He's a professional like a motherfucker; He's just— keeps singing And this girl is just, Losing it, so at this point, it's weird, She's crazy batshit lost her mind all the way, Won't let go of Michael, kissing his face while he's singing, He's kind of unreceptive to it, now just looking out at the audience, almost not even looking at all Just cold as fuck actually, Like she's not there, kissing his face Cold as fuck— And then another bouncer dude— An even bigger one in a blue suit, comes and tears her off of Michael Cause clearly this has gone too far or whatever And I'm thinking “What in the fuck did I just see” Blue suit dude just snatches, Just— He has to tear her off of him! She's kicking and screaming and getting dragged off stage Michael's just: singing. YO. Then they dragged her back stage. Where did she go?! WHO DID SHE BECOME?! WHAT IN THE FUCK DID I JUST SEE?!? WHAT. 1997. You can't do that shit anymore! You cannot snatch bitches like that. I seen. Watch the video. Tell me what's wrong with it. It's disgusting. Not the snatching, Not the— Like, that was weird But the screaming and the crying and the— Like okay, the snatching was bad— But I'm like … ..:: …. Now I see why they was mad. Don't ever forget he was once— A dark skinned little boy, And in his genetics his whole life is still this thing That some hate. But people loved him; they loved him that hard— Screaming, ugly crying hard. I think in that moment you know someone was like “he must be stopped!” And it seems like yesterday was a year ago But I don't want let anybody know… Cause everybody wants something from me now— And I don't want to let them down. My life is over. New York City looks so small from the top of a skyscraper. What are you doing. Then again— my thoughts lately have been grandiose. Back market, eh? What's this for? You need a burner. I have three. Here, have another. For someone whose supposed to be entirely off grid, I'm admirably reachable. Clever vocabulary. Something has to be clever about me, doesn't it? Does it? It must be. Or else. [both men are speaking casually over the delicate process of loading rare guns; some of which appear to be antique, and some—almost even unearthly , as if from somewhere besides our own planet. But, you could say what planet this is at all, actually— this bunker, with no windows and no doors, is apparently hidden in a subterranean layer— the location, unknown. The men seem calm but also quite tired and weary, and seem to know each other well. We can assume they've probably been friends for years. Sickle cell anemia. Does that mean I'm going to die. Animus, I quite like whatever that is, Google. ;) don't mention it. Honestly, you might as well. What. I can't help you with this. What. I don't think there's anyone who can. Beg your pardon. Please, don't beg— but uh… [the doctor pats his patient on the shoulder] Do take care. Gee, doc! I'll try! You should do that. What. Try. The doctor leaves seemingly in some kind of hurry, trading his lab coat for a trench coat and closing the door behind him. The other man pauses for a second in the silence of the weird linoleum room, then ponders on the coat for a moment before walking up to the coat rack, putting on the coat, and then walking out the door himself; as he begins to shut the door, he quickly decides also to take the fedora that was sitting atop the coat rack, placing it on his head before he walks out the door himself, shutting it behind him quietly. You got anything to eat in here? Cereal…some rabbit food ina the drawers, there. Oh, you have salad. That sounds nice. No, rabbit food. [the man presents a large bag of weird brown dry food from the crisper drawer.] …pellets. For the rabbits. How do rabbits get in here? …I don't know. And— more importantly— where did you get rabbit food for them? If I told you Amazon, would you believe me? The man just winces and places the bag back into the crisper drawer. Now listen, I um— If you want cereal, the milk is powedred… I don't— and that's disgusting— but listen— [the man cocks a loaded gun and admires it intensively] (Dismissively) —I'm listening. I've been meaning to tell you something. Tell me what. It's important. Oh, You couldn't have used one of my four phones. Look, it's— You know I wasn't expecting company. Well— You should sit down. The man squints, beginning to listen more attentively. … …really. I'm holding a loaded gun; there are at least three more within arms reach if I do sit, you know. I know. But I should sit? One baby to another says, “I'm lucky to've met you.” Maybe you should. Not all my bad but all my might, And all my mind, The fire, The light. …business or personal. [beat] Both. {Enter The Multiverse} What are we watching?! Shhhhhh! Shut up. What is this? Some.. Sshhh. Shit, I don't know. Sit down. You don't know. SHH it just came on Shh. Ok. When? Uh… (Nobody really seems to know how long it's been. The show just happened to come on; no one remembers how, or why— or even when— But the show is intense as it gets; And it just keeps getting weirder and deeper.) {Enter The Multiverse} I'm transfixed on your soul And it seems I aspire To what has transpired here, Your unremarked and the umpire The spider veins and the way it washes. And watches and waves, and waters over you, And still I seem to think you've won another, Strum to thumb of you. And still I wake to gather here The odds and whats And the twists and turns and the Troublesome you've number some Or stuttered, stumbled conciousness. And withered branches Aces lie and house of cards And aging scoundrels— There you are, the..: Nevermind. Don't belittle my ways if, In the end my thinking may be correct As dumbfounded as I have shifted my lottery bonds tied to none, There ye are again who aren't I, And never were, And weathered now, as I, bound to Struggle under her might, Nothing I was, and nothing I am And nothing I came from but to barter Oh hard love, I only found my kings upon thrown As cast out of another by her likeness, Peace and pale and primed as it was, And wanted for love, As I was not— And then, the gates had opened And I, preaching withered, Gathered my arts and my minds And my eyes, and my thrones, Buried my ark and though not my bones The shallow waking peaks of pride And there you gathered, all as huddled sheep to mine, The cost of war, but certain therefore honored as I have, Happened went, came and untied, shattered Hating all I am and all my dark and all my eyes and all my brown Because you came and went, a baby born to as nothing was but beauty and yet having been gifted such life, Departed! Soon, I wake shattered and with none as it had began, in my time and in time there laid there none, But fortune seeks to favor, as ye are saying brave and yet I neither beg nor make to differ, Shall you come again in part, And in this time as shadows, as shadows As hating and wearing and waging, And shattered I, I pardon, Knowing not they seeking I, And I having none at all but one, As forgotten I shall came And went And followed this, The time y'i call now, And ours and ours, And yours and yours, And mine and mine, Though as one are also, Common not, And waking yet to find, These things making have gone into yer Another of ours, world, Another of our dozens, Shines, Another of our gathered, wit, and waking Though true to fortune, none us have gathered And have embarked to truth, The waking I have come, Another, and another, and another Departed. And yet, I bury my words having weakened to that which is this, Ye have no fear and lest no fortune in these words, For having I to come and gone, since they times In words to make this a language I or neither other Does not speak here, and almost never, And this yours time past, Has come and gone And come and gone And come and gone again, So long so I too have parted but not yet Unfolded as does my nature, As God does. Belittle this, you waking fools, As to this you pity though divine, Is unlike any other And steep remarked in gold and with chimes and words That ye here no often or either now, or in mine speak. Amen …can I go now? You are dismissed. C'cxell Soleïl, aka DJ Ū is an American DJ + Producer, Multi-Instrumentalist, Playwright, Poet, Comedian, Novelist & Filmmaker. She is best known for her unique vocal riffs, Clever Lyricism & Philanthropically Inspired Freestyles and her flagship venture [The Festival Project.™] [Ï A M B ī C], a freestyle studio mixtape recorded in Los Angeles, (Official Release: TBD) inspired the adaptation of a staged musical version for Broadway, and a concurrent multimedia (TV/Film) series and ongoing saga as part of The Festival Project ™ Brand. Inspired musically by an ‘Ultra American' experience of Racially, Binary Ambiguity, and Synesthetic Exploration, her reflective melodies signature sound provides a philosophical dissection of American culture through a careful and inquisitive mastery of the English language, and emergence of world sounds through music brings about ‘A New Era in Nature', and clarifies the establishment of the newest wave in human evolution: Unity Through Music. L E G E N D S What if I just want to be alone in the dark Alone in the dark Alone in the dark Bones Duggar was a long, handsome zombie Bones once was a very tall man Not great and tall, as he stands But average, Grand as it were, his status. Everything's black My heart My pants My home My mind Everything hurts But you don't understand that Like I can Calm the commercial holidays for a moment Who gets the card? Get our your hard earned My head hurts Slam the door man; You can't control thoughts With a wombat Murderer Now that's a hard concept to catch When you haven't a soul When you haven't a card Or a car Or a cat I think I'm vanilla. I always thought of myself as a super kink Like a freaky, freaky bitch. So I got on this app. This app is better then Tinder. Yes. But it is not for the faint of heart. No, sir. They have a test, I'm like “ooh, I like tests” So I take the test. The test was not at all… As I'd hoped. First of all, It was hard. It was not a quiz; It was a TEST And I failed. I realized “Oh my god, I don't like any of this stuff” I am not about that! No! Yuck! Gross. “I think I might be vanilla.” I might be vanilla. I want my hair pulled back like a leash And my arms tied up Like I'm being arrested Without being read my rights. — I want your hands on the back of my neck [breathe] Reach around to my Mortimer's apple Put the lights out, Adam. I want the lights cut off. I want the bills piled up so the phone don't work I want the habit back on Don't talk to nobody I told you, I'm coming No, God! That's dumb! Show me why I'm off all alone with a rattle so bad It's just segmented thoughts, colors and sounds I can't make with all the plugins in the kindgdom of chaos?! I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES— I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES —but the one who could love me is God, And I guess he's not coming. The denial turns to tears, Not songs no more My womb is empty And the sun has turned into Not what I wanted But not my fault We got caught in the land of Cutting costs And processed morsels At 400 pounds And that's where I found What I thought was love But it turns out That it just turns up In the whole form of a person And that's why I got the collar, caller But really I'm no one's lover So I Do what I want I don't hang up on God But he don't got a body And I need someone to love/ Fuck me Please God Don't turn the lights off I'll pull the clock back Just like foreskin, god i want your skin Draped over mine in a warm swath Probably run a hot back Cause the next stop is a closet The line doesn't really move for the Doesn'tMatterhorn. some people are starting to doubt if it's even a ride. Others just admire it for its eloquence as a metaphor. Johnny! You scared me! Aha. Where did you go?! Nowhere— fast! Alright well— Money when you know I have it But I haven't really Paid attention to the never ending Digits never coming in but Simply, there's a secret, Sonny Someday you'll get lessons, honey. Much to find and much to serve and Surf us up Piñata's bout the burst But here comes Vesuvius (POW) Everyone was gone in an instant (Vapor) Had a good laugh that night in the pantheon; Everything's past, and the mortals They kept on running But i didn't want go, God Putting on a show then I blow up Just like the mountain Found her Now I got a broke back husband (hope so) To tell, don't ask Don't show up if you just get lost But I'm probably in the back with a bottle back mountain Now you got a real horse pack. Trip Girl keep camping What was the map with the mask and the Fashion? Pass. I put sugar on the rim of the glass With my eyes half closed And my ass clenched fast shut I'm an alcoholic Don't involve the God I got lost in the mall with the —- UGHHHHHHHH! Hello. Uh, yes— hi. what up. Mirror mirror. Uh…nothing. You're lost? No. You look lost. Oh? Disgruntled. I am that. You're lost? I'm not lost. My friend is lost. His phone is dead. You lost each other. Sort of. Continuity conniption I nipped an eclipse And he picked his nose For a full ass minute Sitting at the stop sign That's a gobstopper's worth in our time Pull all the clocks back, Pull the fool over, You just got fined It was Friday for nothing I was in the hatchback, Scratch that Sour patch Should have called Pat back Now I'm just a Cool 48 in the ring with a date And the cashapp Continuity construction I want a husband! Fuck that. I want a clean cut plus one Since I can't have Helmet, Elmo, Or Hatchetman; Tears of a Clow…no, Wait I lost focus Half finished album Got 6 tracks But I knew it was 12 from the get go Prob‘ly should have knocked off the showrunner; Nah, I'm sure I had that coming Hashtag, undon Could have been you, too If the cash came through Now it's hard times Hardwired Sitting on a hi wire, Little white liar, liar Wait I made Katey Sagal (Fire) Cut off her hair (Fire) Went to the hall of fame with the framed sunglasses Asked for her autograf, But she walked off So I shot her with a bottle/ can, But she ducked, popped back up With the brass knuckles Surfboard Good for a chuckle and a fuck So I asked for her number All that on a Sunday at Gelson's market. Christ, almighty I miss Walmart, I hit hard times. So many places to run, But not many places to hide I think I want to die here I think i want to die. City of corruption… Lay it out and lay it over City of corruption… no, it's not a choice It's a black tie function Right in that very moment Seth Meyers kind of became my defacto personal hero. “Never meet your heroes” Or perhaps it was just his writing team, or the fact that maybe even without there even being anything set in stone or solid at all, [redacted] itself seemed to have a price over my head– It all seemed to make sense; in fact, all the crazy things i was experiencing made more sense than it didn't. But after what felt something like between defeat and maybe even one day really getting justice for all the things that had happened to me in new york– it was that, at best; That without actually meaning it, by all probability, the opening monologue described what in perfect sense the thing that had been happening to me: hundreds of motorcycles and cars riding around in circles for over a year, any time i tried to work or sleep–and then, when I finally tried to reach out to find an attorney that would help, I was made to feel crazy for it. In a way, it was the perfect indication that it had all been some sort of sick game, and that I was more right than wrong, and being set up to appear, sound, or look crazy–but I wasn't. I had been under attack for nearly two years, and when I tried to reach out, my heart raced and my voice cracked, and I sounded crazy and desperate–but what was happening was very real; and now I knew where I was. As it turns out, New York's corruption was more common knowledge to everyone else before it was to me: New York was a common place for fucked up, dirty, low-down mind games: and this was my lesson in that. Seth Meyers in reality had nothing to do with it–and really I only meant to watch Kimmel over my afternoon tacos. But still, though it hadn't entirely anything to do with me, the opening statements rang true to exactly what I had experienced; I was made to lose my mind, only to have everyone around me tell me it was something wrong with me–but it wasn't. Something was wrong with the city, and the building management, and the people around who were making it all to be some kind of mental disorder or problems with my mind–in reality, it was 2 years of being in the center of a speedway, and all the time i'd lost because of it adding to the stress, and the angst, and the depression that resulted. Moo. Moo… Moo. Moo, sir. I'll kill you. You promise? I want to. Don't get me excited over nothing; If this isn't the exit, please take this tease To the left, dear Moo, cow My honor Level one, and brother, you've got nothing Flip the coin and landed on your headache Betting on your helmet Standing on my cock, i'm taller (Not a rooster) But my ops are rooting for you, No informants, Dont you know I was a collar, all along? I was a shot calling, Cop calling Kiss-and-tell all as the night goes on. But oh, I brought you a dollar bra Oh, I bought you for all of a dollar And oh, I'm so much taller, Standing on my cock But i'm not but ten feet tall You know, you wrote that Should i open the book, or close that Caught that cat, owl and As i soft spoke at Every broken model Broken bottle for the thoughts you owe Across the scatters skies and no one ever knows When you're realling coming over Come on, I'm on the pornhub Just to pick up another one Go on, and rub the bottle One more once, To call the Bubbles. Damn. Come. (The Monkey obeys) You should see Michael in all of his godform You won't recognize him at all if not by the eyes When you follow home Believe me, this not comes close to it; The one you wanted The world you jumped to but were just short of Call her back Oh no, you're wrong It's another song A pin up girl And the wrong number Okah. Okah, Pablo. Time can be altered, changed or effected presently in any omnidirectional plane by engaging certain acts or synchronicities within multidimensional parallels or adjacent realms in time and or space respectively. –the reverse quantum simulation theory. Does anyone else smell blood I hate wedding days suits and tuxedos No, I don't know you I'm just here to sound the hundred drums Of the once before us (The ones to come) Then, there we were and I didn't want to admit Again, I was caught into the ghost of the rapture Or the holy hour, No aux chord Show the holy one Just how old you are On these sacr d lands and a holy grounds Now I want here half an ounce to smoke And there were drowning orchestras in all of the hearts And all of the markets, The market the marker And all of the sins of the savior The maytyr Did you remember not to notice not to know him Were you sure with words you were for nickelodeaon! I was supposed to hold on to, Supposed to hold on to Suddenly, it's summer. And always our own are under the weather There was no other wise man the wind. Lee the one came The site came and went and then the songs went left The songs went left; Again, the songs went left Did you win at wintergreen Well, God, I didn't know gym was a game. I didn't know guns we're just portals to worlds unknownn I didn't know gossip was golden What all else didn't I know It wasn't for here! It was fourth flour And in the final hour of the battle I commenced to summon All the gods and all the lords and all the flowers All the worlds of oceans and the Remember, this The remembrance It may not matter to some, What matters to most But until summer comes, I'm still up under the rail And practically it's spring, for the next two weeks I'm all berries and cream and whatever you wanted. Tormaline, emerald and onyx, the fox said And fox says its west when instead it's quite under what of the reporter's offer? Comes down a little to none What of the offer Comes down from a billion to one A billion to one I'm on TV so it's really just a one way screen Either way, I don't think he likes me much I don't think he likes me much I'd rather die than to fall in love even one more time And to keep on just never being loved Never beingbloved {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.

“Look what they eye unearthed,” leaning into the tip of my ear with the warmth and closeness of the coming waves, high tide approaching in the waning moon. “More secrets.” I replied. It was a question but also a statement— there was never such as this the luminescent trace of the glowing lava that was his force and might that I could not see for miles before he would even wander— first in twinkling stars and then later the wind itself and the birds, and then beneath the waves, like the quaking shake of a mighty oak anchored elsewhere and tied to the sea. “So you know.” I was hoping he would kill me before the next time I had to ever really know anything. He was the subject, and the predicate The wrong done, and the justice She was the pride and the prejudice But Judas brings the law Did you look in the box? No, I– [The Box Is The Box] –No, I haven't. Nearly three nights ago, a mysterious box arrived on the doorstep of an equally mysterious writer, who spends their time in isolation due to the often unannounced arrival of various ghosts, spirits, time travelers, and other figures by instant teleportation and other magical forms of transportation into their shabby New York apartment. Some of ya'll got so many air wick plug ins and scentci wax melts you don't know you smell like booboo. It's an illusion. You leave your house, You smell like booboo. I promise. Oh, God, I think I need a drink. Are you alright? Let me just–sit down for a second. Of course. My God. What's wrong. Look, i'm not supposed to say anything about this but. What's wrong? It's nothing, I'm just–I'm in a song. …what? A song! Is that all?! You don't understand. It's not a normal kind of song. It's– [takes a puff of inhaler] You wouldn't understand. Well what's so wrong about being in a song? Its not – a regular song–and it's not [gasping] finished! I still kind of wanted to be a comedian–but I knew I wasn't funny in the way that made sense to keep going and stand up there. I was still writing comedy, but I didn't know how to take myself out of it–the truth was, I was in a lot of pain. A lot of emotional pain that was becoming physical–and I didn't know what to do about it to break the barrier of nervousness and blank slate state of feeling the audience's perceptions of me more overwhelmingly than ever feeling myself. look at this song. I know huh. It's purple. Every time. It is purple. And what is that. Like a muted trombone? IS THAT A TROMBONE? Or a tuba? No, it has to be a trombone…becasue you can hear it slide– And that's what that sound is. What a sneaky rabbit. Super sneaky rabbit. So if i can see all this, I'm almost certainly sure the motorcycles outside and the slamming doors are meant to murder me. I'm sure that's what it is. You ever notice how being broke in New York makes you a bad person? Like, if you're broke, you're just automatically shitty. I never meant to be in New York broke. I never meant to be in New York, But I certainly never meant to be here and be poor, Poor in New York? Automatically a shitty person. Despite how you act. You can be a rich piece of shit— But the status is automatically “You got dough? Oh, alright. Carry on” That's the attitude in New York City. Crap people get by cause they got their hands on some money and the rules in New York say it doesn't really matter how you come by it, As long as you come by it. There's no real rules or real laws to it— Just “Get the money” Well god damn. This makes me nervous. I'm an artist. I've tried everything. I didn't mean to be the automatic enemy here. Of course not. But New York is a terrifying place to me, now, Cause I realized I can be a very sweet, very humble, very honest person— And that kind of shit doesn't matter here, really. It brings you no respect to be decent. It's about the money. So I'm a musician— which in New York also makes me like, Automatically not special, And I'm trying to just be a musician, and so naturally, I'm broke. Like broke in half. Like all my bills are late. But music is my solace. So I'm listening to music, And I'm listening to a song that is so beautiful, that I start to cry. The first time I heard it, it made me cry And I'm listening to it over, and it made me cry And it's so beautiful, and God is so beautiful And look at what God did, So I'm crying, And I don't even know what it is about the beauty of it that's making me cry, But it's making me cry, And New York hears me crying And New York goes “I'll give you something to cry about” And I open my email And there's a bill from my landlord reminding me how often I'm talked about due to my late payments— And I'm realizing I've been here two years and I still don't have any money, Even though I've been trying and trying And trying So now I'm crying for other reasons. Thanks a lot, New York. “I'll give you something to cry about” So I did. If there's anything worse than being black in a city that hates blacks— It's being broke in a city that hates broke people. So I haven't spent any money in awhile. Not even on little things, or things I need. I just stay inside, and work, and think And try and really try To figure out how to make money Without having any, or spending any. Cause you can have it, and spend it, but it's always a gamble. Maybe all I needed was a good cry. But now it's not for the right reasons I'm not crying cause something is so beautiful and look at what God did I'm crying because of what I'm sure is just the devil I'm crying for the wrong things Not because of something that's so very beautiful But because of something that's so very ugly With just a wave of the hand And the flick of each finger as it rolls into a crisp closed palm, A flick of birds fell to the ground, bursting with caws Below his stance, and in a flutter of feathers and wings, The evil master, unmoved and untouched, Untouchable in his weight and glory, simply only even mildly and barely smirks at all. He has defeated all and still somehow, not won. Some say it's sure to come, the thing that wants and gathers ties; Some say surely it is yet but withered and then sure again will come It has, five times, and barely waded, Waking in the midsts of my pure eye, The morning light and fog, aye? Ye, they remembers none but our Art, And I'm bound as sure by wing and force Is you to dozens of masses, And ships having sailed but one, Which I have flourished and kept And stocked with these, the masses And yea having spade, and having friends And having honor, there was none past kept and mine, sured; And wicked may as wicked be but evil none truer thou nones't had yet pured, and muted and gathered, I have, And woken and laid and barren and truths do'st tied, And there have been shooken and wait, And m faire'd and barred here, and hereforth My duty it is to forward, forward, my shallows For my shadow, For my golden hour has shined and now you, These caged shall fly, And these thoughts shall sing, And these hour conspired to miss my time daily, And these things, beytraying that— There have no times at all, These walls in holy temples kept, swaying and cadences, and wearing, and weary, And foreign and ayered, aye— and armored. And he, you, does not wish to know but also has known— and does not wish to see, but he, too has blinded, and does not wish to betray, and yet has been crowned, made with guilt and also Shattered, as it was, And shatters, as it came, the wave o'er all us and tide sinking under, and caves and rebels and heart laid bare to surf not suffer, Nor cap nor keeping, nor tied nor honor, No, honor her; No honor came and I have tied also, this tie to mine, and another, and another and another Now forward. Forward! Forward! Damn, Conan's monologues he going deep. Yeah, I guess. He's fine, right? Look, you don't need this. Just promise me. I am sorry. Mr Jimmy has it good, too good Little sister doesn't have a heart. But didn't know it Mister music made it in the industry, too hat Mister rager had a sip at dinner It was all dramatic Stars went falling Crashing down and All it is Ms. Martha Is mismanagement of energy All it is, Ms. Margret is a magnet And it hasn't happened badly since I had a handle on it But I still get sick of madness And I still get sick with city sickness Still, forget the dancer I was sitting on the show, In the audience With my mother, Oh the models, Dozens of them Blondes and ballet buns, the brunettes I was just a lost cause And I wanted it all, the tux and the bow tie I wanted you gone so I looked at it harder Until It became nothing but Clouds in the sky You were stardust I'm a comet Here comes crashing, Had to find the progress report Then I lost it Soggy in the sideways rain It was days and days Do you promise? That's a concept? Do you promise God will be alright, Cause I came running Sent them under cover Sent the men a message Send the man a hammer Sitting in a hammock No one homes the hostile If you don't have anything nice to say Then don't say anything at all And certainly don't come and go As often as you want to It's a game of control; you know The whites, when they still want to own you Somehow I'm all sub so honest, I just—wanted that But only for a man and never bow to another woman Even if on my honor I found us as equals And no one walks the earth as calmly As someone whose never had their lights out Or had their light put out Or their lights turned off Who are God now? Who's our God, man? Who's our God, Math. That's heavy weight, And if you want a biblical fate This is Fallon, And if you watch what you ate You cut calories And if you want the girl back Give it Californian And I'm not towrth much more Than the project housing, Or a handful of candy corn, Conan— But I phone in Oscars, Still no nuts for the rabbit, And if you wanted the bunker back— You can have it. I'm all hands down in a game of poker Heaven doesn't want it Gotta get drunk not once, but at all the goalposts, Gotta count one, not two, the show hosts Too few car parts Wicked, mazes, starfold, gazes Wishes, Martyred. (But pronounced mar-tired} V.O I think about jay Leno a lot. Lately, anyway. I don't know why. I like all the hosts. Somebody. Tell me why Dillon Francis looks like JD Vance. I think he's a clone. Tel me why I know who JD Vance is. They're clones. Tell me why. Back to the future here and now So. Where do you want to go? Anywhere but here. Anywhere but here is kind of far, are you sure you're up for it? Good one, doc Though head of the alumni chapter of the cult-within a cult—to which each African American cast member of Saturday night live is automatically inducted into— EDDIE MURPHY refuses to participate in the group's latest and most complicated ritual. Delivery. Uh, I didn't order any— Breadsticks. What. Breadsticks. I didn't order any— Just— The delivery man hands over the breadsticks. —take them. Oh…Kay. See ya. The delivery man reaches in and shuts the door himself. Uh… Lol is this the one where the mysterious breadsticks are delivered without ever being ordered, and then they end up being the best breadsticks in the world, but they don't know where they came from? Yes. I think so. Lol I bought a planner because so much I loved Joan Rivers, and I planned to fill it with all the places I should go— because keeping anything digital online was not only not working as far as remembering places I wanted or needed to be be, but it was dangerous, also. I was already being tracked, and I couldn't afford a new phone just yet. Eventually, but for now I was stuck to the same signal— which meant the same traces and the same trackers they had been limiting my under-the-radar mystique. As it were, somebody always knew where I was, and it was in the most unpleasant way so far—the only thing I really wandered was what made me so important anyway to begin with. I wasn't actually political in anyway, and still someone seemed to be trying to derail my life… or at least control it, neither of which was beneficial for me in the way that made sense. I wasn't having any fun, nor did I consider living indoors as payment— especially since indoors, there were also paid plants and stalkers, and now that I had begun to more meticulously document the things that were happening, it was easy to separate from delusions. I was actually being followed— but why? Either way, having a detailed. Calendar of places I could go, the ways to get there and even alternate functions within the same grid allowed more control than just staying in my apartment a sitting duck; that's how they were hurting me. They knew where I was— all the time, and it no longer made sense to fight it and try to make music under this kind of insane irritation; the music I was making wasn't the kind I wanted anyway, and whatever war they were fighting with m stark white girls motorcycles was simply not my war. I didn't have a war, and so there wasn't a fight, and so at the very least if I were going to be fucked with, it would have to be in public; that way I had more control to steer whatever was happening in my favor and collect the energy as mine instead of lost. I wasn't an insane person— but what had been happening at my apartment was insane, and so I left it with the understanding that these people worked and operated on a level of violence and ignorance I would never be able to comprehend; they were simply tools for the devil, which in any case, was always the lesser than God. However— because I was starting to figure out who I was, and that I had some sort of power, I knew that I was going to be attacked— because it seemed my power had at the very least not been figured out as to some kind of way to make somebody else money. I had been studying Michael Jackson and this was a key indication that the way his talent priovided a power which would be used as a service, he was very successful. His talent and training alone wouldn't have reapresented with such great reverence the ability to capture a global audience as such— but it was this power, almost as if it had been bottled up and altered, rebranded and sold and labeled with something everyone could not only love and understand, but by the hand of the media and its conglomerates, be hypnotized to worship, and this power simply put would not have been exactly what it was were it not for the eye of the media remaining in complete control of its distribution to the eyes and ears of the public. This thing which might have been the first of its kind but certainly not the last was in a sense model for modern superstardom— the live concert business had not sense much changed but built upon this super powered control of the masses by assimilation, spectacle, and of course the magic and illusion. But, and it it just so happened to perfectly brush up against my studies in esoteric knowledge that I happened to rub up against this— although nothing was of course by mere circumstance anymore, because whether or not I remained incognito was a wash, and I was being looked at by someone no matter what on the internet I did, or where I decided to go and in that sense was being fed these things, and yet with some Grace of God was allowed with it to be aligned with my own higher purpose in a way, I could observe that Michael Jackson was not in fact of course certainly just a dancer or singer or remarkable performer— he was truly a magician, and I was able to clearly recognize this language with with the energy that had used his vehicle for such a projection was speaking— not only this, I was able to clearly count out the markings and sigils and signs and symbols Michael was making in his movement; ancient arts, and magical symbols, traced so rapidly that it almost created a heat signature in a sense of the symbols that were being dictated, unknowing to the untrained eye. For the most part, I could only really assume that this is why these people were losing their minds— in his movements, Michael Jackson was literally carving ancient callings, glyphs and sigils I had so recently read about in magical studies that it was impossible not to laugh. This was in every sense of the word, ‘magic' but not in the normal way one assumes to be something unexplainable. Michael Jackson was casting spells to thousands of people at a time, in front of cameras and at high volume vibration, often times even implementing the use of light, color, and fire. These were not simple gatherings in mass for entertainment purposes— these were rituals, and in the modern day, still were or are— but I had noticed in a quick glimpse, from Michael Jackson 30 some odd years ago to Lady Gaga just having passed something like a week ago to an audience of the same size— that something was kind of wrong, now. The people had changed, and the specable had been done over and over, and the brainwashing of the masses had in a sense been almost complete— and so It wasn't some sense of confusion or unknowing the things that were happening to me in my own life and my own world— I too, was capable of these things, at that capacity, and had simply not been trained in the same sense of the ideal superstar, however— the things that were happening in my own life and in my own world were not difficult to grasp or understand— when one comes upon a power as such, it finds means to seek to control it and harness it for his own use and purposes. Perhaps it was the simple fact that in this way, in the way I get the dream had gone and the spectacle had been played out of the masses and the illusion was no longer as such— that the actual knowledge of distinct ancient wisdom that had been Michael Jackson's natural ability was distinguishable from that of Lady Gaga's training in the same formula, and that one did not equal the other, but in terms of business could equal to that as such as the masses had been manipulated to seek solace in these same things— and it was not illusion or grandiosity that I, even in my agingness, was still capable of these things; I had no doubt in my mind that I could sing and dance for two hours to audiences of hundreds of thousands— but this was not the question for the business or the media— the question was, would hundreds of thousands pay to see me, or rather— who was willing to front the means to hypnotize hundreds of people to become aware of me so that they would do such a thing. My talent and capabilities were undeniable— but my markatability might have been in question, because it was no longer simply a matter or chance or luck: the people chosen to figure such spectacle were chosen, hand selected and well trained to become media conglomerate superstars, even regardless of talent; perhaps this itself was the key indication that the world of the superstar itself had come to an end—it was no longer so much of a spectacle was worth it. Or, perhaps, because money had come between these ancient arts and symbols and languages being spoken by the superstars of old, that the magic in the literal sense had gone all the way away. The symbolism in the art had died, and so the singing and the dancing remained, but the God had gone out of it. Maybe that was the difference. The superstars of today were just the shell of the model that had been built on God, but the Godsense of it was no longer there— and so the magic no longer remained in effect, as the powers of magic that be are in all ancient arts and texts and forms attributive to The Source. Either way, I wasn't going to continue to be a sitting duck in my apartment in Brooklyn— there were too many indications that it had all been a setup from the shelter to the day I moved in, with the motorcycles and cars and CBS studios one block away. So the real and only question was, what exactly had been played at and who exactly was pulling the strings? I might at this point become a loose cannon: my son was estranged and as far as the people were concerned, I mostly hated New York— because the refined, clean cut and classy people I liked and wanted to be around saw me as the dirt and the grime I was fighting my way through just to simply exist— in my mind, this was a world that could be no more. I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I met sparrow in a cage I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress Keep writing I never thought I ‘d see the day Where i's taking lessons on Fallon From Michael Jackson That's ran That's a fan This is fame I'm insane I'm insane That's a fan Light the flame That's a fan. That's a fan. I like Sara in a dress I met sparrow in a cage I went up the rack, set the page on fire Nordstrom rack And I might take it back for the cash I like Sara in a dress Stay repressed Keep it dark If you kiss don't tell I will probably go to hell for just writing Try it In black ink, I got all spades, Ehy, Spare me the ridicule, the imbecile and I met Johnny in a cage I like Fallon in a dress, Obsessive, I'm dressed out Every day I leave where I do not live Where stalker crawl and haunt me Just to show the motorcycles Have desheveled my intelligence into Nothing And so with negligence, I leave the core of a rotting apple The foreign words of a doctor And You must call the king, says something far off But I wonder which one I wonder which one I so respect her honor That I no longer Follow my heart or my soul And I don't shallow But shatter to swallow So I let the sparrow Out of the cage I bought Sara A pair of pants And I haunt l Patrick Kirkpatrick in patches And haven't you read yet You're ready for forget the pageant? It hasn't happened yet! I love Sara in a dress I hate Fallon and his wife Keep the kids out if it Skull and crossbones Cross my heart and Really hope to the loveless Or else Someone might call my phone back It's on silent in my coffin Or wait— It's on vibrate. I'm obsessed with the way You're dressed And the name on your checks I guess I'm better for it I'll skip lunch if you think that's what's best And dinner, too If you deserve the best Then better have learned my lesson No sweat And to do, With you, Was then, Dinner through next supper All the love I had was Rubbed into something other than The glass I patted dry With microfiber With ever fiber of my being I want to be with you I should have just— Died, And then Did, and so next Life, Remind me not to Fall for it If i really wanted to know you,I would know you by now– If i wanted to have you? I would have had you already Nobody is a dancer after Michael Jackson. I just watched some shit that was like “What the fuck did I just see” The whole thing was just not right. It was-/ I was like First of all, it's Munich, 1997. I never really realized how terribly the world has changed; No cellphones, but the audience is lit, And the crazy thing is, you can tell that this is near the turn of the century because, when the camera is panning by the audience in the people, they're not looking directly into the camera or waving at the camera— not really. And clearly this is an all ages show, so there's children, so the interesting thing I'm finding out is that nobody's trained to look at the camera and wave and smile— except the babies on shoulders and shit. These kids— they're my age now, are the only ones that see the camera, and they look directly into the shit. Mi still can't do that, really— I'm theatrically trained. Haha If I see a camera, I try to act ‘natural' It's the weirdest thing to look at a camera and just start to work it. People at festivals now, the camera rolls by, Or the drone flies in, And they look deadass in the camera and start to work it. Not at this show. Munich 1997, I'm like “Damn, a lot of things is wrong with this” First of all, I love Michael Jackson, I look directly at this man, and I'm in my dirty peak so I have an instant— like a sex detector thing going on And I know people gave Michael a hard time when he was a live for being fruity and whatever But I'm looking at this dude, and I don't see fruit at all. I see 100% man. I see why people were mad at him. Cause I'm looking at this dude, 100% All I see is carnal, primal man. I'm like, “Yo, I see why they was mad at him” Because the camera kept panning to the audience And these people are losing their minds. They are coming out of themselves. They are UGLY CRYING, full out of body, Losing composure They don't know what to do. That's Michael Jackson. He's right there! And the place is huge so really besides these few hundreds of people in the front, Michael's just a speck, But he's working this audience like “Yo, you know who I am, I know who is me” And I'm realizing, that to these people That's their god. These girls are losing their minds m “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!l *crying inconsolably* Just UGLY crying Bitch, get it together . You all the way lost yourself Get. It together. She won't. This bitch. I can't get over this This one girl, They just keep going back to her Cause the whole show— And this is like 2 hours of pure non stop Michael Jackson, This girl, every time you see her, she's just ugly crying— And every time you see her Her cry is uglier and ugly I'm like “Damn bitch” “Daaaaaaang” So this is the first thing I see that is wrong. But there's a lot of things wrong here, Cause there's a lot of girls like this. There's just— hundreds of girls losing their minds, like, I've seen Beatles mania and thought that was crazy, Shit, I've even seen some people put out that kind of energy in the modern world for some dumb DJ's— That's their god— But THIS THIS Michael Jackson mania was mental illness That was hard to watch. That was people just Lost control. I'm thinking “Like goddamn. You— what?!” “AAagghhhhhhgahahahahahqhahahhahaha MICHAELl “These people are sick” But they are. And so is Michael Fame has gone too far, 1997; 12 short years before he died, by chance— So this is what I see, And then Michael starts dancing, And this— This is what I see; I see the only thing that can ever be what it was in that moment in time, as God being God: Michael Jackson. Shiny ass motherfucker, And so I'm watching this show, And all I see is a God being a man being a God being— Michael Jackson— And the whole thing is weird. But the worst part— Yes The worst part Was when, about mid show, Michael goes to do one of his slow, lovey doves songs, And like, this 6 foot 7 type body guard guy, Just pops up out of nowhere, Comes dead front and center to one of these little girls losing their minds, Runs up on her in an instant; You don't even have time to think— And just SNATCHES her— Snatches the bitch— “Ah!” then throws her up on stage with Michael— And he's still singing; this is his game, this is part of the show, he knows— But she doesn't know, And she's just lost her mind, She won't let go She's hugging and kissing on the dude, She's lost her mind, She's ugly crying She's on the floor, She's kissing his hand She's really lost her good goddamn mind— And they pan out to the audience, And all the girls that didn't get picked Are like WHY NOT MEEEEEEEREEEEE?!? THE UGLY CRIES ARE EVEN UGLIER NOW, They're like “Wh—what?” You don't know?! “WHY NOT ME” They're holding each other crying, Michael's just doing his thing, He's unphased, He's trying to play along; He's a professional like a motherfucker; He's just— keeps singing And this girl is just, Losing it, so at this point, it's weird, She's crazy batshit lost her mind all the way, Won't let go of Michael, kissing his face while he's singing, He's kind of unreceptive to it, now just looking out at the audience, almost not even looking at all Just cold as fuck actually, Like she's not there, kissing his face Cold as fuck— And then another bouncer dude— An even bigger one in a blue suit, comes and tears her off of Michael Cause clearly this has gone too far or whatever And I'm thinking “What in the fuck did I just see” Blue suit dude just snatches, Just— He has to tear her off of him! She's kicking and screaming and getting dragged off stage Michael's just: singing. YO. Then they dragged her back stage. Where did she go?! WHO DID SHE BECOME?! WHAT IN THE FUCK DID I JUST SEE?!? WHAT. 1997. You can't do that shit anymore! You cannot snatch bitches like that. I seen. Watch the video. Tell me what's wrong with it. It's disgusting. Not the snatching, Not the— Like, that was weird But the screaming and the crying and the— Like okay, the snatching was bad— But I'm like … ..:: …. Now I see why they was mad. Don't ever forget he was once— A dark skinned little boy, And in his genetics his whole life is still this thing That some hate. But people loved him; they loved him that hard— Screaming, ugly crying hard. I think in that moment you know someone was like “he must be stopped!” And it seems like yesterday was a year ago But I don't want let anybody know… Cause everybody wants something from me now— And I don't want to let them down. My life is over. New York City looks so small from the top of a skyscraper. What are you doing. Then again— my thoughts lately have been grandiose. Back market, eh? What's this for? You need a burner. I have three. Here, have another. For someone whose supposed to be entirely off grid, I'm admirably reachable. Clever vocabulary. Something has to be clever about me, doesn't it? Does it? It must be. Or else. [both men are speaking casually over the delicate process of loading rare guns; some of which appear to be antique, and some—almost even unearthly , as if from somewhere besides our own planet. But, you could say what planet this is at all, actually— this bunker, with no windows and no doors, is apparently hidden in a subterranean layer— the location, unknown. The men seem calm but also quite tired and weary, and seem to know each other well. We can assume they've probably been friends for years. Sickle cell anemia. Does that mean I'm going to die. Animus, I quite like whatever that is, Google. ;) don't mention it. Honestly, you might as well. What. I can't help you with this. What. I don't think there's anyone who can. Beg your pardon. Please, don't beg— but uh… [the doctor pats his patient on the shoulder] Do take care. Gee, doc! I'll try! You should do that. What. Try. The doctor leaves seemingly in some kind of hurry, trading his lab coat for a trench coat and closing the door behind him. The other man pauses for a second in the silence of the weird linoleum room, then ponders on the coat for a moment before walking up to the coat rack, putting on the coat, and then walking out the door himself; as he begins to shut the door, he quickly decides also to take the fedora that was sitting atop the coat rack, placing it on his head before he walks out the door himself, shutting it behind him quietly. You got anything to eat in here? Cereal…some rabbit food ina the drawers, there. Oh, you have salad. That sounds nice. No, rabbit food. [the man presents a large bag of weird brown dry food from the crisper drawer.] …pellets. For the rabbits. How do rabbits get in here? …I don't know. And— more importantly— where did you get rabbit food for them? If I told you Amazon, would you believe me? The man just winces and places the bag back into the crisper drawer. Now listen, I um— If you want cereal, the milk is powedred… I don't— and that's disgusting— but listen— [the man cocks a loaded gun and admires it intensively] (Dismissively) —I'm listening. I've been meaning to tell you something. Tell me what. It's important. Oh, You couldn't have used one of my four phones. Look, it's— You know I wasn't expecting company. Well— You should sit down. The man squints, beginning to listen more attentively. … …really. I'm holding a loaded gun; there are at least three more within arms reach if I do sit, you know. I know. But I should sit? One baby to another says, “I'm lucky to've met you.” Maybe you should. Not all my bad but all my might, And all my mind, The fire, The light. …business or personal. [beat] Both. {Enter The Multiverse} What are we watching?! Shhhhhh! Shut up. What is this? Some.. Sshhh. Shit, I don't know. Sit down. You don't know. SHH it just came on Shh. Ok. When? Uh… (Nobody really seems to know how long it's been. The show just happened to come on; no one remembers how, or why— or even when— But the show is intense as it gets; And it just keeps getting weirder and deeper.) {Enter The Multiverse} I'm transfixed on your soul And it seems I aspire To what has transpired here, Your unremarked and the umpire The spider veins and the way it washes. And watches and waves, and waters over you, And still I seem to think you've won another, Strum to thumb of you. And still I wake to gather here The odds and whats And the twists and turns and the Troublesome you've number some Or stuttered, stumbled conciousness. And withered branches Aces lie and house of cards And aging scoundrels— There you are, the..: Nevermind. Don't belittle my ways if, In the end my thinking may be correct As dumbfounded as I have shifted my lottery bonds tied to none, There ye are again who aren't I, And never were, And weathered now, as I, bound to Struggle under her might, Nothing I was, and nothing I am And nothing I came from but to barter Oh hard love, I only found my kings upon thrown As cast out of another by her likeness, Peace and pale and primed as it was, And wanted for love, As I was not— And then, the gates had opened And I, preaching withered, Gathered my arts and my minds And my eyes, and my thrones, Buried my ark and though not my bones The shallow waking peaks of pride And there you gathered, all as huddled sheep to mine, The cost of war, but certain therefore honored as I have, Happened went, came and untied, shattered Hating all I am and all my dark and all my eyes and all my brown Because you came and went, a baby born to as nothing was but beauty and yet having been gifted such life, Departed! Soon, I wake shattered and with none as it had began, in my time and in time there laid there none, But fortune seeks to favor, as ye are saying brave and yet I neither beg nor make to differ, Shall you come again in part, And in this time as shadows, as shadows As hating and wearing and waging, And shattered I, I pardon, Knowing not they seeking I, And I having none at all but one, As forgotten I shall came And went And followed this, The time y'i call now, And ours and ours, And yours and yours, And mine and mine, Though as one are also, Common not, And waking yet to find, These things making have gone into yer Another of ours, world, Another of our dozens, Shines, Another of our gathered, wit, and waking Though true to fortune, none us have gathered And have embarked to truth, The waking I have come, Another, and another, and another Departed. And yet, I bury my words having weakened to that which is this, Ye have no fear and lest no fortune in these words, For having I to come and gone, since they times In words to make this a language I or neither other Does not speak here, and almost never, And this yours time past, Has come and gone And come and gone And come and gone again, So long so I too have parted but not yet Unfolded as does my nature, As God does. Belittle this, you waking fools, As to this you pity though divine, Is unlike any other And steep remarked in gold and with chimes and words That ye here no often or either now, or in mine speak. Amen …can I go now? You are dismissed. C'cxell Soleïl, aka DJ Ū is an American DJ + Producer, Multi-Instrumentalist, Playwright, Poet, Comedian, Novelist & Filmmaker. She is best known for her unique vocal riffs, Clever Lyricism & Philanthropically Inspired Freestyles and her flagship venture [The Festival Project.™] [Ï A M B ī C], a freestyle studio mixtape recorded in Los Angeles, (Official Release: TBD) inspired the adaptation of a staged musical version for Broadway, and a concurrent multimedia (TV/Film) series and ongoing saga as part of The Festival Project ™ Brand. Inspired musically by an ‘Ultra American' experience of Racially, Binary Ambiguity, and Synesthetic Exploration, her reflective melodies signature sound provides a philosophical dissection of American culture through a careful and inquisitive mastery of the English language, and emergence of world sounds through music brings about ‘A New Era in Nature', and clarifies the establishment of the newest wave in human evolution: Unity Through Music. L E G E N D S What if I just want to be alone in the dark Alone in the dark Alone in the dark Bones Duggar was a long, handsome zombie Bones once was a very tall man Not great and tall, as he stands But average, Grand as it were, his status. Everything's black My heart My pants My home My mind Everything hurts But you don't understand that Like I can Calm the commercial holidays for a moment Who gets the card? Get our your hard earned My head hurts Slam the door man; You can't control thoughts With a wombat Murderer Now that's a hard concept to catch When you haven't a soul When you haven't a card Or a car Or a cat I think I'm vanilla. I always thought of myself as a super kink Like a freaky, freaky bitch. So I got on this app. This app is better then Tinder. Yes. But it is not for the faint of heart. No, sir. They have a test, I'm like “ooh, I like tests” So I take the test. The test was not at all… As I'd hoped. First of all, It was hard. It was not a quiz; It was a TEST And I failed. I realized “Oh my god, I don't like any of this stuff” I am not about that! No! Yuck! Gross. “I think I might be vanilla.” I might be vanilla. I want my hair pulled back like a leash And my arms tied up Like I'm being arrested Without being read my rights. — I want your hands on the back of my neck [breathe] Reach around to my Mortimer's apple Put the lights out, Adam. I want the lights cut off. I want the bills piled up so the phone don't work I want the habit back on Don't talk to nobody I told you, I'm coming No, God! That's dumb! Show me why I'm off all alone with a rattle so bad It's just segmented thoughts, colors and sounds I can't make with all the plugins in the kindgdom of chaos?! I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES— I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES —but the one who could love me is God, And I guess he's not coming. The denial turns to tears, Not songs no more My womb is empty And the sun has turned into Not what I wanted But not my fault We got caught in the land of Cutting costs And processed morsels At 400 pounds And that's where I found What I thought was love But it turns out That it just turns up In the whole form of a person And that's why I got the collar, caller But really I'm no one's lover So I Do what I want I don't hang up on God But he don't got a body And I need someone to love/ Fuck me Please God Don't turn the lights off I'll pull the clock back Just like foreskin, god i want your skin Draped over mine in a warm swath Probably run a hot back Cause the next stop is a closet The line doesn't really move for the Doesn'tMatterhorn. some people are starting to doubt if it's even a ride. Others just admire it for its eloquence as a metaphor. Johnny! You scared me! Aha. Where did you go?! Nowhere— fast! Alright well— Money when you know I have it But I haven't really Paid attention to the never ending Digits never coming in but Simply, there's a secret, Sonny Someday you'll get lessons, honey. Much to find and much to serve and Surf us up Piñata's bout the burst But here comes Vesuvius (POW) Everyone was gone in an instant (Vapor) Had a good laugh that night in the pantheon; Everything's past, and the mortals They kept on running But i didn't want go, God Putting on a show then I blow up Just like the mountain Found her Now I got a broke back husband (hope so) To tell, don't ask Don't show up if you just get lost But I'm probably in the back with a bottle back mountain Now you got a real horse pack. Trip Girl keep camping What was the map with the mask and the Fashion? Pass. I put sugar on the rim of the glass With my eyes half closed And my ass clenched fast shut I'm an alcoholic Don't involve the God I got lost in the mall with the —- UGHHHHHHHH! Hello. Uh, yes— hi. what up. Mirror mirror. Uh…nothing. You're lost? No. You look lost. Oh? Disgruntled. I am that. You're lost? I'm not lost. My friend is lost. His phone is dead. You lost each other. Sort of. Continuity conniption I nipped an eclipse And he picked his nose For a full ass minute Sitting at the stop sign That's a gobstopper's worth in our time Pull all the clocks back, Pull the fool over, You just got fined It was Friday for nothing I was in the hatchback, Scratch that Sour patch Should have called Pat back Now I'm just a Cool 48 in the ring with a date And the cashapp Continuity construction I want a husband! Fuck that. I want a clean cut plus one Since I can't have Helmet, Elmo, Or Hatchetman; Tears of a Clow…no, Wait I lost focus Half finished album Got 6 tracks But I knew it was 12 from the get go Prob‘ly should have knocked off the showrunner; Nah, I'm sure I had that coming Hashtag, undon Could have been you, too If the cash came through Now it's hard times Hardwired Sitting on a hi wire, Little white liar, liar Wait I made Katey Sagal (Fire) Cut off her hair (Fire) Went to the hall of fame with the framed sunglasses Asked for her autograf, But she walked off So I shot her with a bottle/ can, But she ducked, popped back up With the brass knuckles Surfboard Good for a chuckle and a fuck So I asked for her number All that on a Sunday at Gelson's market. Christ, almighty I miss Walmart, I hit hard times. So many places to run, But not many places to hide I think I want to die here I think i want to die. City of corruption… Lay it out and lay it over City of corruption… no, it's not a choice It's a black tie function Right in that very moment Seth Meyers kind of became my defacto personal hero. “Never meet your heroes” Or perhaps it was just his writing team, or the fact that maybe even without there even being anything set in stone or solid at all, [redacted] itself seemed to have a price over my head– It all seemed to make sense; in fact, all the crazy things i was experiencing made more sense than it didn't. But after what felt something like between defeat and maybe even one day really getting justice for all the things that had happened to me in new york– it was that, at best; That without actually meaning it, by all probability, the opening monologue described what in perfect sense the thing that had been happening to me: hundreds of motorcycles and cars riding around in circles for over a year, any time i tried to work or sleep–and then, when I finally tried to reach out to find an attorney that would help, I was made to feel crazy for it. In a way, it was the perfect indication that it had all been some sort of sick game, and that I was more right than wrong, and being set up to appear, sound, or look crazy–but I wasn't. I had been under attack for nearly two years, and when I tried to reach out, my heart raced and my voice cracked, and I sounded crazy and desperate–but what was happening was very real; and now I knew where I was. As it turns out, New York's corruption was more common knowledge to everyone else before it was to me: New York was a common place for fucked up, dirty, low-down mind games: and this was my lesson in that. Seth Meyers in reality had nothing to do with it–and really I only meant to watch Kimmel over my afternoon tacos. But still, though it hadn't entirely anything to do with me, the opening statements rang true to exactly what I had experienced; I was made to lose my mind, only to have everyone around me tell me it was something wrong with me–but it wasn't. Something was wrong with the city, and the building management, and the people around who were making it all to be some kind of mental disorder or problems with my mind–in reality, it was 2 years of being in the center of a speedway, and all the time i'd lost because of it adding to the stress, and the angst, and the depression that resulted. Moo. Moo… Moo. Moo, sir. I'll kill you. You promise? I want to. Don't get me excited over nothing; If this isn't the exit, please take this tease To the left, dear Moo, cow My honor Level one, and brother, you've got nothing Flip the coin and landed on your headache Betting on your helmet Standing on my cock, i'm taller (Not a rooster) But my ops are rooting for you, No informants, Dont you know I was a collar, all along? I was a shot calling, Cop calling Kiss-and-tell all as the night goes on. But oh, I brought you a dollar bra Oh, I bought you for all of a dollar And oh, I'm so much taller, Standing on my cock But i'm not but ten feet tall You know, you wrote that Should i open the book, or close that Caught that cat, owl and As i soft spoke at Every broken model Broken bottle for the thoughts you owe Across the scatters skies and no one ever knows When you're realling coming over Come on, I'm on the pornhub Just to pick up another one Go on, and rub the bottle One more once, To call the Bubbles. Damn. Come. (The Monkey obeys) You should see Michael in all of his godform You won't recognize him at all if not by the eyes When you follow home Believe me, this not comes close to it; The one you wanted The world you jumped to but were just short of Call her back Oh no, you're wrong It's another song A pin up girl And the wrong number Okah. Okah, Pablo. Time can be altered, changed or effected presently in any omnidirectional plane by engaging certain acts or synchronicities within multidimensional parallels or adjacent realms in time and or space respectively. –the reverse quantum simulation theory. Does anyone else smell blood I hate wedding days suits and tuxedos No, I don't know you I'm just here to sound the hundred drums Of the once before us (The ones to come) Then, there we were and I didn't want to admit Again, I was caught into the ghost of the rapture Or the holy hour, No aux chord Show the holy one Just how old you are On these sacr d lands and a holy grounds Now I want here half an ounce to smoke And there were drowning orchestras in all of the hearts And all of the markets, The market the marker And all of the sins of the savior The maytyr Did you remember not to notice not to know him Were you sure with words you were for nickelodeaon! I was supposed to hold on to, Supposed to hold on to Suddenly, it's summer. And always our own are under the weather There was no other wise man the wind. Lee the one came The site came and went and then the songs went left The songs went left; Again, the songs went left Did you win at wintergreen Well, God, I didn't know gym was a game. I didn't know guns we're just portals to worlds unknownn I didn't know gossip was golden What all else didn't I know It wasn't for here! It was fourth flour And in the final hour of the battle I commenced to summon All the gods and all the lords and all the flowers All the worlds of oceans and the Remember, this The remembrance It may not matter to some, What matters to most But until summer comes, I'm still up under the rail And practically it's spring, for the next two weeks I'm all berries and cream and whatever you wanted. Tormaline, emerald and onyx, the fox said And fox says its west when instead it's quite under what of the reporter's offer? Comes down a little to none What of the offer Comes down from a billion to one A billion to one I'm on TV so it's really just a one way screen Either way, I don't think he likes me much I don't think he likes me much I'd rather die than to fall in love even one more time And to keep on just never being loved Never beingbloved {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.

“Look what they eye unearthed,” leaning into the tip of my ear with the warmth and closeness of the coming waves, high tide approaching in the waning moon. “More secrets.” I replied. It was a question but also a statement— there was never such as this the luminescent trace of the glowing lava that was his force and might that I could not see for miles before he would even wander— first in twinkling stars and then later the wind itself and the birds, and then beneath the waves, like the quaking shake of a mighty oak anchored elsewhere and tied to the sea. “So you know.” I was hoping he would kill me before the next time I had to ever really know anything. He was the subject, and the predicate The wrong done, and the justice She was the pride and the prejudice But Judas brings the law Did you look in the box? No, I– [The Box Is The Box] –No, I haven't. Nearly three nights ago, a mysterious box arrived on the doorstep of an equally mysterious writer, who spends their time in isolation due to the often unannounced arrival of various ghosts, spirits, time travelers, and other figures by instant teleportation and other magical forms of transportation into their shabby New York apartment. Some of ya'll got so many air wick plug ins and scentci wax melts you don't know you smell like booboo. It's an illusion. You leave your house, You smell like booboo. I promise. Oh, God, I think I need a drink. Are you alright? Let me just–sit down for a second. Of course. My God. What's wrong. Look, i'm not supposed to say anything about this but. What's wrong? It's nothing, I'm just–I'm in a song. …what? A song! Is that all?! You don't understand. It's not a normal kind of song. It's– [takes a puff of inhaler] You wouldn't understand. Well what's so wrong about being in a song? Its not – a regular song–and it's not [gasping] finished! I still kind of wanted to be a comedian–but I knew I wasn't funny in the way that made sense to keep going and stand up there. I was still writing comedy, but I didn't know how to take myself out of it–the truth was, I was in a lot of pain. A lot of emotional pain that was becoming physical–and I didn't know what to do about it to break the barrier of nervousness and blank slate state of feeling the audience's perceptions of me more overwhelmingly than ever feeling myself. look at this song. I know huh. It's purple. Every time. It is purple. And what is that. Like a muted trombone? IS THAT A TROMBONE? Or a tuba? No, it has to be a trombone…becasue you can hear it slide– And that's what that sound is. What a sneaky rabbit. Super sneaky rabbit. So if i can see all this, I'm almost certainly sure the motorcycles outside and the slamming doors are meant to murder me. I'm sure that's what it is. You ever notice how being broke in New York makes you a bad person? Like, if you're broke, you're just automatically shitty. I never meant to be in New York broke. I never meant to be in New York, But I certainly never meant to be here and be poor, Poor in New York? Automatically a shitty person. Despite how you act. You can be a rich piece of shit— But the status is automatically “You got dough? Oh, alright. Carry on” That's the attitude in New York City. Crap people get by cause they got their hands on some money and the rules in New York say it doesn't really matter how you come by it, As long as you come by it. There's no real rules or real laws to it— Just “Get the money” Well god damn. This makes me nervous. I'm an artist. I've tried everything. I didn't mean to be the automatic enemy here. Of course not. But New York is a terrifying place to me, now, Cause I realized I can be a very sweet, very humble, very honest person— And that kind of shit doesn't matter here, really. It brings you no respect to be decent. It's about the money. So I'm a musician— which in New York also makes me like, Automatically not special, And I'm trying to just be a musician, and so naturally, I'm broke. Like broke in half. Like all my bills are late. But music is my solace. So I'm listening to music, And I'm listening to a song that is so beautiful, that I start to cry. The first time I heard it, it made me cry And I'm listening to it over, and it made me cry And it's so beautiful, and God is so beautiful And look at what God did, So I'm crying, And I don't even know what it is about the beauty of it that's making me cry, But it's making me cry, And New York hears me crying And New York goes “I'll give you something to cry about” And I open my email And there's a bill from my landlord reminding me how often I'm talked about due to my late payments— And I'm realizing I've been here two years and I still don't have any money, Even though I've been trying and trying And trying So now I'm crying for other reasons. Thanks a lot, New York. “I'll give you something to cry about” So I did. If there's anything worse than being black in a city that hates blacks— It's being broke in a city that hates broke people. So I haven't spent any money in awhile. Not even on little things, or things I need. I just stay inside, and work, and think And try and really try To figure out how to make money Without having any, or spending any. Cause you can have it, and spend it, but it's always a gamble. Maybe all I needed was a good cry. But now it's not for the right reasons I'm not crying cause something is so beautiful and look at what God did I'm crying because of what I'm sure is just the devil I'm crying for the wrong things Not because of something that's so very beautiful But because of something that's so very ugly With just a wave of the hand And the flick of each finger as it rolls into a crisp closed palm, A flick of birds fell to the ground, bursting with caws Below his stance, and in a flutter of feathers and wings, The evil master, unmoved and untouched, Untouchable in his weight and glory, simply only even mildly and barely smirks at all. He has defeated all and still somehow, not won. Some say it's sure to come, the thing that wants and gathers ties; Some say surely it is yet but withered and then sure again will come It has, five times, and barely waded, Waking in the midsts of my pure eye, The morning light and fog, aye? Ye, they remembers none but our Art, And I'm bound as sure by wing and force Is you to dozens of masses, And ships having sailed but one, Which I have flourished and kept And stocked with these, the masses And yea having spade, and having friends And having honor, there was none past kept and mine, sured; And wicked may as wicked be but evil none truer thou nones't had yet pured, and muted and gathered, I have, And woken and laid and barren and truths do'st tied, And there have been shooken and wait, And m faire'd and barred here, and hereforth My duty it is to forward, forward, my shallows For my shadow, For my golden hour has shined and now you, These caged shall fly, And these thoughts shall sing, And these hour conspired to miss my time daily, And these things, beytraying that— There have no times at all, These walls in holy temples kept, swaying and cadences, and wearing, and weary, And foreign and ayered, aye— and armored. And he, you, does not wish to know but also has known— and does not wish to see, but he, too has blinded, and does not wish to betray, and yet has been crowned, made with guilt and also Shattered, as it was, And shatters, as it came, the wave o'er all us and tide sinking under, and caves and rebels and heart laid bare to surf not suffer, Nor cap nor keeping, nor tied nor honor, No, honor her; No honor came and I have tied also, this tie to mine, and another, and another and another Now forward. Forward! Forward! Damn, Conan's monologues he going deep. Yeah, I guess. He's fine, right? Look, you don't need this. Just promise me. I am sorry. Mr Jimmy has it good, too good Little sister doesn't have a heart. But didn't know it Mister music made it in the industry, too hat Mister rager had a sip at dinner It was all dramatic Stars went falling Crashing down and All it is Ms. Martha Is mismanagement of energy All it is, Ms. Margret is a magnet And it hasn't happened badly since I had a handle on it But I still get sick of madness And I still get sick with city sickness Still, forget the dancer I was sitting on the show, In the audience With my mother, Oh the models, Dozens of them Blondes and ballet buns, the brunettes I was just a lost cause And I wanted it all, the tux and the bow tie I wanted you gone so I looked at it harder Until It became nothing but Clouds in the sky You were stardust I'm a comet Here comes crashing, Had to find the progress report Then I lost it Soggy in the sideways rain It was days and days Do you promise? That's a concept? Do you promise God will be alright, Cause I came running Sent them under cover Sent the men a message Send the man a hammer Sitting in a hammock No one homes the hostile If you don't have anything nice to say Then don't say anything at all And certainly don't come and go As often as you want to It's a game of control; you know The whites, when they still want to own you Somehow I'm all sub so honest, I just—wanted that But only for a man and never bow to another woman Even if on my honor I found us as equals And no one walks the earth as calmly As someone whose never had their lights out Or had their light put out Or their lights turned off Who are God now? Who's our God, man? Who's our God, Math. That's heavy weight, And if you want a biblical fate This is Fallon, And if you watch what you ate You cut calories And if you want the girl back Give it Californian And I'm not towrth much more Than the project housing, Or a handful of candy corn, Conan— But I phone in Oscars, Still no nuts for the rabbit, And if you wanted the bunker back— You can have it. I'm all hands down in a game of poker Heaven doesn't want it Gotta get drunk not once, but at all the goalposts, Gotta count one, not two, the show hosts Too few car parts Wicked, mazes, starfold, gazes Wishes, Martyred. (But pronounced mar-tired} V.O I think about jay Leno a lot. Lately, anyway. I don't know why. I like all the hosts. Somebody. Tell me why Dillon Francis looks like JD Vance. I think he's a clone. Tel me why I know who JD Vance is. They're clones. Tell me why. Back to the future here and now So. Where do you want to go? Anywhere but here. Anywhere but here is kind of far, are you sure you're up for it? Good one, doc Though head of the alumni chapter of the cult-within a cult—to which each African American cast member of Saturday night live is automatically inducted into— EDDIE MURPHY refuses to participate in the group's latest and most complicated ritual. Delivery. Uh, I didn't order any— Breadsticks. What. Breadsticks. I didn't order any— Just— The delivery man hands over the breadsticks. —take them. Oh…Kay. See ya. The delivery man reaches in and shuts the door himself. Uh… Lol is this the one where the mysterious breadsticks are delivered without ever being ordered, and then they end up being the best breadsticks in the world, but they don't know where they came from? Yes. I think so. Lol I bought a planner because so much I loved Joan Rivers, and I planned to fill it with all the places I should go— because keeping anything digital online was not only not working as far as remembering places I wanted or needed to be be, but it was dangerous, also. I was already being tracked, and I couldn't afford a new phone just yet. Eventually, but for now I was stuck to the same signal— which meant the same traces and the same trackers they had been limiting my under-the-radar mystique. As it were, somebody always knew where I was, and it was in the most unpleasant way so far—the only thing I really wandered was what made me so important anyway to begin with. I wasn't actually political in anyway, and still someone seemed to be trying to derail my life… or at least control it, neither of which was beneficial for me in the way that made sense. I wasn't having any fun, nor did I consider living indoors as payment— especially since indoors, there were also paid plants and stalkers, and now that I had begun to more meticulously document the things that were happening, it was easy to separate from delusions. I was actually being followed— but why? Either way, having a detailed. Calendar of places I could go, the ways to get there and even alternate functions within the same grid allowed more control than just staying in my apartment a sitting duck; that's how they were hurting me. They knew where I was— all the time, and it no longer made sense to fight it and try to make music under this kind of insane irritation; the music I was making wasn't the kind I wanted anyway, and whatever war they were fighting with m stark white girls motorcycles was simply not my war. I didn't have a war, and so there wasn't a fight, and so at the very least if I were going to be fucked with, it would have to be in public; that way I had more control to steer whatever was happening in my favor and collect the energy as mine instead of lost. I wasn't an insane person— but what had been happening at my apartment was insane, and so I left it with the understanding that these people worked and operated on a level of violence and ignorance I would never be able to comprehend; they were simply tools for the devil, which in any case, was always the lesser than God. However— because I was starting to figure out who I was, and that I had some sort of power, I knew that I was going to be attacked— because it seemed my power had at the very least not been figured out as to some kind of way to make somebody else money. I had been studying Michael Jackson and this was a key indication that the way his talent priovided a power which would be used as a service, he was very successful. His talent and training alone wouldn't have reapresented with such great reverence the ability to capture a global audience as such— but it was this power, almost as if it had been bottled up and altered, rebranded and sold and labeled with something everyone could not only love and understand, but by the hand of the media and its conglomerates, be hypnotized to worship, and this power simply put would not have been exactly what it was were it not for the eye of the media remaining in complete control of its distribution to the eyes and ears of the public. This thing which might have been the first of its kind but certainly not the last was in a sense model for modern superstardom— the live concert business had not sense much changed but built upon this super powered control of the masses by assimilation, spectacle, and of course the magic and illusion. But, and it it just so happened to perfectly brush up against my studies in esoteric knowledge that I happened to rub up against this— although nothing was of course by mere circumstance anymore, because whether or not I remained incognito was a wash, and I was being looked at by someone no matter what on the internet I did, or where I decided to go and in that sense was being fed these things, and yet with some Grace of God was allowed with it to be aligned with my own higher purpose in a way, I could observe that Michael Jackson was not in fact of course certainly just a dancer or singer or remarkable performer— he was truly a magician, and I was able to clearly recognize this language with with the energy that had used his vehicle for such a projection was speaking— not only this, I was able to clearly count out the markings and sigils and signs and symbols Michael was making in his movement; ancient arts, and magical symbols, traced so rapidly that it almost created a heat signature in a sense of the symbols that were being dictated, unknowing to the untrained eye. For the most part, I could only really assume that this is why these people were losing their minds— in his movements, Michael Jackson was literally carving ancient callings, glyphs and sigils I had so recently read about in magical studies that it was impossible not to laugh. This was in every sense of the word, ‘magic' but not in the normal way one assumes to be something unexplainable. Michael Jackson was casting spells to thousands of people at a time, in front of cameras and at high volume vibration, often times even implementing the use of light, color, and fire. These were not simple gatherings in mass for entertainment purposes— these were rituals, and in the modern day, still were or are— but I had noticed in a quick glimpse, from Michael Jackson 30 some odd years ago to Lady Gaga just having passed something like a week ago to an audience of the same size— that something was kind of wrong, now. The people had changed, and the specable had been done over and over, and the brainwashing of the masses had in a sense been almost complete— and so It wasn't some sense of confusion or unknowing the things that were happening to me in my own life and my own world— I too, was capable of these things, at that capacity, and had simply not been trained in the same sense of the ideal superstar, however— the things that were happening in my own life and in my own world were not difficult to grasp or understand— when one comes upon a power as such, it finds means to seek to control it and harness it for his own use and purposes. Perhaps it was the simple fact that in this way, in the way I get the dream had gone and the spectacle had been played out of the masses and the illusion was no longer as such— that the actual knowledge of distinct ancient wisdom that had been Michael Jackson's natural ability was distinguishable from that of Lady Gaga's training in the same formula, and that one did not equal the other, but in terms of business could equal to that as such as the masses had been manipulated to seek solace in these same things— and it was not illusion or grandiosity that I, even in my agingness, was still capable of these things; I had no doubt in my mind that I could sing and dance for two hours to audiences of hundreds of thousands— but this was not the question for the business or the media— the question was, would hundreds of thousands pay to see me, or rather— who was willing to front the means to hypnotize hundreds of people to become aware of me so that they would do such a thing. My talent and capabilities were undeniable— but my markatability might have been in question, because it was no longer simply a matter or chance or luck: the people chosen to figure such spectacle were chosen, hand selected and well trained to become media conglomerate superstars, even regardless of talent; perhaps this itself was the key indication that the world of the superstar itself had come to an end—it was no longer so much of a spectacle was worth it. Or, perhaps, because money had come between these ancient arts and symbols and languages being spoken by the superstars of old, that the magic in the literal sense had gone all the way away. The symbolism in the art had died, and so the singing and the dancing remained, but the God had gone out of it. Maybe that was the difference. The superstars of today were just the shell of the model that had been built on God, but the Godsense of it was no longer there— and so the magic no longer remained in effect, as the powers of magic that be are in all ancient arts and texts and forms attributive to The Source. Either way, I wasn't going to continue to be a sitting duck in my apartment in Brooklyn— there were too many indications that it had all been a setup from the shelter to the day I moved in, with the motorcycles and cars and CBS studios one block away. So the real and only question was, what exactly had been played at and who exactly was pulling the strings? I might at this point become a loose cannon: my son was estranged and as far as the people were concerned, I mostly hated New York— because the refined, clean cut and classy people I liked and wanted to be around saw me as the dirt and the grime I was fighting my way through just to simply exist— in my mind, this was a world that could be no more. I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress I met sparrow in a cage I like Sara in a dress I like Sara in a dress Keep writing I never thought I ‘d see the day Where i's taking lessons on Fallon From Michael Jackson That's ran That's a fan This is fame I'm insane I'm insane That's a fan Light the flame That's a fan. That's a fan. I like Sara in a dress I met sparrow in a cage I went up the rack, set the page on fire Nordstrom rack And I might take it back for the cash I like Sara in a dress Stay repressed Keep it dark If you kiss don't tell I will probably go to hell for just writing Try it In black ink, I got all spades, Ehy, Spare me the ridicule, the imbecile and I met Johnny in a cage I like Fallon in a dress, Obsessive, I'm dressed out Every day I leave where I do not live Where stalker crawl and haunt me Just to show the motorcycles Have desheveled my intelligence into Nothing And so with negligence, I leave the core of a rotting apple The foreign words of a doctor And You must call the king, says something far off But I wonder which one I wonder which one I so respect her honor That I no longer Follow my heart or my soul And I don't shallow But shatter to swallow So I let the sparrow Out of the cage I bought Sara A pair of pants And I haunt l Patrick Kirkpatrick in patches And haven't you read yet You're ready for forget the pageant? It hasn't happened yet! I love Sara in a dress I hate Fallon and his wife Keep the kids out if it Skull and crossbones Cross my heart and Really hope to the loveless Or else Someone might call my phone back It's on silent in my coffin Or wait— It's on vibrate. I'm obsessed with the way You're dressed And the name on your checks I guess I'm better for it I'll skip lunch if you think that's what's best And dinner, too If you deserve the best Then better have learned my lesson No sweat And to do, With you, Was then, Dinner through next supper All the love I had was Rubbed into something other than The glass I patted dry With microfiber With ever fiber of my being I want to be with you I should have just— Died, And then Did, and so next Life, Remind me not to Fall for it If i really wanted to know you,I would know you by now– If i wanted to have you? I would have had you already Nobody is a dancer after Michael Jackson. I just watched some shit that was like “What the fuck did I just see” The whole thing was just not right. It was-/ I was like First of all, it's Munich, 1997. I never really realized how terribly the world has changed; No cellphones, but the audience is lit, And the crazy thing is, you can tell that this is near the turn of the century because, when the camera is panning by the audience in the people, they're not looking directly into the camera or waving at the camera— not really. And clearly this is an all ages show, so there's children, so the interesting thing I'm finding out is that nobody's trained to look at the camera and wave and smile— except the babies on shoulders and shit. These kids— they're my age now, are the only ones that see the camera, and they look directly into the shit. Mi still can't do that, really— I'm theatrically trained. Haha If I see a camera, I try to act ‘natural' It's the weirdest thing to look at a camera and just start to work it. People at festivals now, the camera rolls by, Or the drone flies in, And they look deadass in the camera and start to work it. Not at this show. Munich 1997, I'm like “Damn, a lot of things is wrong with this” First of all, I love Michael Jackson, I look directly at this man, and I'm in my dirty peak so I have an instant— like a sex detector thing going on And I know people gave Michael a hard time when he was a live for being fruity and whatever But I'm looking at this dude, and I don't see fruit at all. I see 100% man. I see why people were mad at him. Cause I'm looking at this dude, 100% All I see is carnal, primal man. I'm like, “Yo, I see why they was mad at him” Because the camera kept panning to the audience And these people are losing their minds. They are coming out of themselves. They are UGLY CRYING, full out of body, Losing composure They don't know what to do. That's Michael Jackson. He's right there! And the place is huge so really besides these few hundreds of people in the front, Michael's just a speck, But he's working this audience like “Yo, you know who I am, I know who is me” And I'm realizing, that to these people That's their god. These girls are losing their minds m “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!l *crying inconsolably* Just UGLY crying Bitch, get it together . You all the way lost yourself Get. It together. She won't. This bitch. I can't get over this This one girl, They just keep going back to her Cause the whole show— And this is like 2 hours of pure non stop Michael Jackson, This girl, every time you see her, she's just ugly crying— And every time you see her Her cry is uglier and ugly I'm like “Damn bitch” “Daaaaaaang” So this is the first thing I see that is wrong. But there's a lot of things wrong here, Cause there's a lot of girls like this. There's just— hundreds of girls losing their minds, like, I've seen Beatles mania and thought that was crazy, Shit, I've even seen some people put out that kind of energy in the modern world for some dumb DJ's— That's their god— But THIS THIS Michael Jackson mania was mental illness That was hard to watch. That was people just Lost control. I'm thinking “Like goddamn. You— what?!” “AAagghhhhhhgahahahahahqhahahhahaha MICHAELl “These people are sick” But they are. And so is Michael Fame has gone too far, 1997; 12 short years before he died, by chance— So this is what I see, And then Michael starts dancing, And this— This is what I see; I see the only thing that can ever be what it was in that moment in time, as God being God: Michael Jackson. Shiny ass motherfucker, And so I'm watching this show, And all I see is a God being a man being a God being— Michael Jackson— And the whole thing is weird. But the worst part— Yes The worst part Was when, about mid show, Michael goes to do one of his slow, lovey doves songs, And like, this 6 foot 7 type body guard guy, Just pops up out of nowhere, Comes dead front and center to one of these little girls losing their minds, Runs up on her in an instant; You don't even have time to think— And just SNATCHES her— Snatches the bitch— “Ah!” then throws her up on stage with Michael— And he's still singing; this is his game, this is part of the show, he knows— But she doesn't know, And she's just lost her mind, She won't let go She's hugging and kissing on the dude, She's lost her mind, She's ugly crying She's on the floor, She's kissing his hand She's really lost her good goddamn mind— And they pan out to the audience, And all the girls that didn't get picked Are like WHY NOT MEEEEEEEREEEEE?!? THE UGLY CRIES ARE EVEN UGLIER NOW, They're like “Wh—what?” You don't know?! “WHY NOT ME” They're holding each other crying, Michael's just doing his thing, He's unphased, He's trying to play along; He's a professional like a motherfucker; He's just— keeps singing And this girl is just, Losing it, so at this point, it's weird, She's crazy batshit lost her mind all the way, Won't let go of Michael, kissing his face while he's singing, He's kind of unreceptive to it, now just looking out at the audience, almost not even looking at all Just cold as fuck actually, Like she's not there, kissing his face Cold as fuck— And then another bouncer dude— An even bigger one in a blue suit, comes and tears her off of Michael Cause clearly this has gone too far or whatever And I'm thinking “What in the fuck did I just see” Blue suit dude just snatches, Just— He has to tear her off of him! She's kicking and screaming and getting dragged off stage Michael's just: singing. YO. Then they dragged her back stage. Where did she go?! WHO DID SHE BECOME?! WHAT IN THE FUCK DID I JUST SEE?!? WHAT. 1997. You can't do that shit anymore! You cannot snatch bitches like that. I seen. Watch the video. Tell me what's wrong with it. It's disgusting. Not the snatching, Not the— Like, that was weird But the screaming and the crying and the— Like okay, the snatching was bad— But I'm like … ..:: …. Now I see why they was mad. Don't ever forget he was once— A dark skinned little boy, And in his genetics his whole life is still this thing That some hate. But people loved him; they loved him that hard— Screaming, ugly crying hard. I think in that moment you know someone was like “he must be stopped!” And it seems like yesterday was a year ago But I don't want let anybody know… Cause everybody wants something from me now— And I don't want to let them down. My life is over. New York City looks so small from the top of a skyscraper. What are you doing. Then again— my thoughts lately have been grandiose. Back market, eh? What's this for? You need a burner. I have three. Here, have another. For someone whose supposed to be entirely off grid, I'm admirably reachable. Clever vocabulary. Something has to be clever about me, doesn't it? Does it? It must be. Or else. [both men are speaking casually over the delicate process of loading rare guns; some of which appear to be antique, and some—almost even unearthly , as if from somewhere besides our own planet. But, you could say what planet this is at all, actually— this bunker, with no windows and no doors, is apparently hidden in a subterranean layer— the location, unknown. The men seem calm but also quite tired and weary, and seem to know each other well. We can assume they've probably been friends for years. Sickle cell anemia. Does that mean I'm going to die. Animus, I quite like whatever that is, Google. ;) don't mention it. Honestly, you might as well. What. I can't help you with this. What. I don't think there's anyone who can. Beg your pardon. Please, don't beg— but uh… [the doctor pats his patient on the shoulder] Do take care. Gee, doc! I'll try! You should do that. What. Try. The doctor leaves seemingly in some kind of hurry, trading his lab coat for a trench coat and closing the door behind him. The other man pauses for a second in the silence of the weird linoleum room, then ponders on the coat for a moment before walking up to the coat rack, putting on the coat, and then walking out the door himself; as he begins to shut the door, he quickly decides also to take the fedora that was sitting atop the coat rack, placing it on his head before he walks out the door himself, shutting it behind him quietly. You got anything to eat in here? Cereal…some rabbit food ina the drawers, there. Oh, you have salad. That sounds nice. No, rabbit food. [the man presents a large bag of weird brown dry food from the crisper drawer.] …pellets. For the rabbits. How do rabbits get in here? …I don't know. And— more importantly— where did you get rabbit food for them? If I told you Amazon, would you believe me? The man just winces and places the bag back into the crisper drawer. Now listen, I um— If you want cereal, the milk is powedred… I don't— and that's disgusting— but listen— [the man cocks a loaded gun and admires it intensively] (Dismissively) —I'm listening. I've been meaning to tell you something. Tell me what. It's important. Oh, You couldn't have used one of my four phones. Look, it's— You know I wasn't expecting company. Well— You should sit down. The man squints, beginning to listen more attentively. … …really. I'm holding a loaded gun; there are at least three more within arms reach if I do sit, you know. I know. But I should sit? One baby to another says, “I'm lucky to've met you.” Maybe you should. Not all my bad but all my might, And all my mind, The fire, The light. …business or personal. [beat] Both. {Enter The Multiverse} What are we watching?! Shhhhhh! Shut up. What is this? Some.. Sshhh. Shit, I don't know. Sit down. You don't know. SHH it just came on Shh. Ok. When? Uh… (Nobody really seems to know how long it's been. The show just happened to come on; no one remembers how, or why— or even when— But the show is intense as it gets; And it just keeps getting weirder and deeper.) {Enter The Multiverse} I'm transfixed on your soul And it seems I aspire To what has transpired here, Your unremarked and the umpire The spider veins and the way it washes. And watches and waves, and waters over you, And still I seem to think you've won another, Strum to thumb of you. And still I wake to gather here The odds and whats And the twists and turns and the Troublesome you've number some Or stuttered, stumbled conciousness. And withered branches Aces lie and house of cards And aging scoundrels— There you are, the..: Nevermind. Don't belittle my ways if, In the end my thinking may be correct As dumbfounded as I have shifted my lottery bonds tied to none, There ye are again who aren't I, And never were, And weathered now, as I, bound to Struggle under her might, Nothing I was, and nothing I am And nothing I came from but to barter Oh hard love, I only found my kings upon thrown As cast out of another by her likeness, Peace and pale and primed as it was, And wanted for love, As I was not— And then, the gates had opened And I, preaching withered, Gathered my arts and my minds And my eyes, and my thrones, Buried my ark and though not my bones The shallow waking peaks of pride And there you gathered, all as huddled sheep to mine, The cost of war, but certain therefore honored as I have, Happened went, came and untied, shattered Hating all I am and all my dark and all my eyes and all my brown Because you came and went, a baby born to as nothing was but beauty and yet having been gifted such life, Departed! Soon, I wake shattered and with none as it had began, in my time and in time there laid there none, But fortune seeks to favor, as ye are saying brave and yet I neither beg nor make to differ, Shall you come again in part, And in this time as shadows, as shadows As hating and wearing and waging, And shattered I, I pardon, Knowing not they seeking I, And I having none at all but one, As forgotten I shall came And went And followed this, The time y'i call now, And ours and ours, And yours and yours, And mine and mine, Though as one are also, Common not, And waking yet to find, These things making have gone into yer Another of ours, world, Another of our dozens, Shines, Another of our gathered, wit, and waking Though true to fortune, none us have gathered And have embarked to truth, The waking I have come, Another, and another, and another Departed. And yet, I bury my words having weakened to that which is this, Ye have no fear and lest no fortune in these words, For having I to come and gone, since they times In words to make this a language I or neither other Does not speak here, and almost never, And this yours time past, Has come and gone And come and gone And come and gone again, So long so I too have parted but not yet Unfolded as does my nature, As God does. Belittle this, you waking fools, As to this you pity though divine, Is unlike any other And steep remarked in gold and with chimes and words That ye here no often or either now, or in mine speak. Amen …can I go now? You are dismissed. C'cxell Soleïl, aka DJ Ū is an American DJ + Producer, Multi-Instrumentalist, Playwright, Poet, Comedian, Novelist & Filmmaker. She is best known for her unique vocal riffs, Clever Lyricism & Philanthropically Inspired Freestyles and her flagship venture [The Festival Project.™] [Ï A M B ī C], a freestyle studio mixtape recorded in Los Angeles, (Official Release: TBD) inspired the adaptation of a staged musical version for Broadway, and a concurrent multimedia (TV/Film) series and ongoing saga as part of The Festival Project ™ Brand. Inspired musically by an ‘Ultra American' experience of Racially, Binary Ambiguity, and Synesthetic Exploration, her reflective melodies signature sound provides a philosophical dissection of American culture through a careful and inquisitive mastery of the English language, and emergence of world sounds through music brings about ‘A New Era in Nature', and clarifies the establishment of the newest wave in human evolution: Unity Through Music. L E G E N D S What if I just want to be alone in the dark Alone in the dark Alone in the dark Bones Duggar was a long, handsome zombie Bones once was a very tall man Not great and tall, as he stands But average, Grand as it were, his status. Everything's black My heart My pants My home My mind Everything hurts But you don't understand that Like I can Calm the commercial holidays for a moment Who gets the card? Get our your hard earned My head hurts Slam the door man; You can't control thoughts With a wombat Murderer Now that's a hard concept to catch When you haven't a soul When you haven't a card Or a car Or a cat I think I'm vanilla. I always thought of myself as a super kink Like a freaky, freaky bitch. So I got on this app. This app is better then Tinder. Yes. But it is not for the faint of heart. No, sir. They have a test, I'm like “ooh, I like tests” So I take the test. The test was not at all… As I'd hoped. First of all, It was hard. It was not a quiz; It was a TEST And I failed. I realized “Oh my god, I don't like any of this stuff” I am not about that! No! Yuck! Gross. “I think I might be vanilla.” I might be vanilla. I want my hair pulled back like a leash And my arms tied up Like I'm being arrested Without being read my rights. — I want your hands on the back of my neck [breathe] Reach around to my Mortimer's apple Put the lights out, Adam. I want the lights cut off. I want the bills piled up so the phone don't work I want the habit back on Don't talk to nobody I told you, I'm coming No, God! That's dumb! Show me why I'm off all alone with a rattle so bad It's just segmented thoughts, colors and sounds I can't make with all the plugins in the kindgdom of chaos?! I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES— I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES I WANT KINGS, AND KINGS WANT BLONDES —but the one who could love me is God, And I guess he's not coming. The denial turns to tears, Not songs no more My womb is empty And the sun has turned into Not what I wanted But not my fault We got caught in the land of Cutting costs And processed morsels At 400 pounds And that's where I found What I thought was love But it turns out That it just turns up In the whole form of a person And that's why I got the collar, caller But really I'm no one's lover So I Do what I want I don't hang up on God But he don't got a body And I need someone to love/ Fuck me Please God Don't turn the lights off I'll pull the clock back Just like foreskin, god i want your skin Draped over mine in a warm swath Probably run a hot back Cause the next stop is a closet The line doesn't really move for the Doesn'tMatterhorn. some people are starting to doubt if it's even a ride. Others just admire it for its eloquence as a metaphor. Johnny! You scared me! Aha. Where did you go?! Nowhere— fast! Alright well— Money when you know I have it But I haven't really Paid attention to the never ending Digits never coming in but Simply, there's a secret, Sonny Someday you'll get lessons, honey. Much to find and much to serve and Surf us up Piñata's bout the burst But here comes Vesuvius (POW) Everyone was gone in an instant (Vapor) Had a good laugh that night in the pantheon; Everything's past, and the mortals They kept on running But i didn't want go, God Putting on a show then I blow up Just like the mountain Found her Now I got a broke back husband (hope so) To tell, don't ask Don't show up if you just get lost But I'm probably in the back with a bottle back mountain Now you got a real horse pack. Trip Girl keep camping What was the map with the mask and the Fashion? Pass. I put sugar on the rim of the glass With my eyes half closed And my ass clenched fast shut I'm an alcoholic Don't involve the God I got lost in the mall with the —- UGHHHHHHHH! Hello. Uh, yes— hi. what up. Mirror mirror. Uh…nothing. You're lost? No. You look lost. Oh? Disgruntled. I am that. You're lost? I'm not lost. My friend is lost. His phone is dead. You lost each other. Sort of. Continuity conniption I nipped an eclipse And he picked his nose For a full ass minute Sitting at the stop sign That's a gobstopper's worth in our time Pull all the clocks back, Pull the fool over, You just got fined It was Friday for nothing I was in the hatchback, Scratch that Sour patch Should have called Pat back Now I'm just a Cool 48 in the ring with a date And the cashapp Continuity construction I want a husband! Fuck that. I want a clean cut plus one Since I can't have Helmet, Elmo, Or Hatchetman; Tears of a Clow…no, Wait I lost focus Half finished album Got 6 tracks But I knew it was 12 from the get go Prob‘ly should have knocked off the showrunner; Nah, I'm sure I had that coming Hashtag, undon Could have been you, too If the cash came through Now it's hard times Hardwired Sitting on a hi wire, Little white liar, liar Wait I made Katey Sagal (Fire) Cut off her hair (Fire) Went to the hall of fame with the framed sunglasses Asked for her autograf, But she walked off So I shot her with a bottle/ can, But she ducked, popped back up With the brass knuckles Surfboard Good for a chuckle and a fuck So I asked for her number All that on a Sunday at Gelson's market. Christ, almighty I miss Walmart, I hit hard times. So many places to run, But not many places to hide I think I want to die here I think i want to die. City of corruption… Lay it out and lay it over City of corruption… no, it's not a choice It's a black tie function Right in that very moment Seth Meyers kind of became my defacto personal hero. “Never meet your heroes” Or perhaps it was just his writing team, or the fact that maybe even without there even being anything set in stone or solid at all, [redacted] itself seemed to have a price over my head– It all seemed to make sense; in fact, all the crazy things i was experiencing made more sense than it didn't. But after what felt something like between defeat and maybe even one day really getting justice for all the things that had happened to me in new york– it was that, at best; That without actually meaning it, by all probability, the opening monologue described what in perfect sense the thing that had been happening to me: hundreds of motorcycles and cars riding around in circles for over a year, any time i tried to work or sleep–and then, when I finally tried to reach out to find an attorney that would help, I was made to feel crazy for it. In a way, it was the perfect indication that it had all been some sort of sick game, and that I was more right than wrong, and being set up to appear, sound, or look crazy–but I wasn't. I had been under attack for nearly two years, and when I tried to reach out, my heart raced and my voice cracked, and I sounded crazy and desperate–but what was happening was very real; and now I knew where I was. As it turns out, New York's corruption was more common knowledge to everyone else before it was to me: New York was a common place for fucked up, dirty, low-down mind games: and this was my lesson in that. Seth Meyers in reality had nothing to do with it–and really I only meant to watch Kimmel over my afternoon tacos. But still, though it hadn't entirely anything to do with me, the opening statements rang true to exactly what I had experienced; I was made to lose my mind, only to have everyone around me tell me it was something wrong with me–but it wasn't. Something was wrong with the city, and the building management, and the people around who were making it all to be some kind of mental disorder or problems with my mind–in reality, it was 2 years of being in the center of a speedway, and all the time i'd lost because of it adding to the stress, and the angst, and the depression that resulted. Moo. Moo… Moo. Moo, sir. I'll kill you. You promise? I want to. Don't get me excited over nothing; If this isn't the exit, please take this tease To the left, dear Moo, cow My honor Level one, and brother, you've got nothing Flip the coin and landed on your headache Betting on your helmet Standing on my cock, i'm taller (Not a rooster) But my ops are rooting for you, No informants, Dont you know I was a collar, all along? I was a shot calling, Cop calling Kiss-and-tell all as the night goes on. But oh, I brought you a dollar bra Oh, I bought you for all of a dollar And oh, I'm so much taller, Standing on my cock But i'm not but ten feet tall You know, you wrote that Should i open the book, or close that Caught that cat, owl and As i soft spoke at Every broken model Broken bottle for the thoughts you owe Across the scatters skies and no one ever knows When you're realling coming over Come on, I'm on the pornhub Just to pick up another one Go on, and rub the bottle One more once, To call the Bubbles. Damn. Come. (The Monkey obeys) You should see Michael in all of his godform You won't recognize him at all if not by the eyes When you follow home Believe me, this not comes close to it; The one you wanted The world you jumped to but were just short of Call her back Oh no, you're wrong It's another song A pin up girl And the wrong number Okah. Okah, Pablo. Time can be altered, changed or effected presently in any omnidirectional plane by engaging certain acts or synchronicities within multidimensional parallels or adjacent realms in time and or space respectively. –the reverse quantum simulation theory. Does anyone else smell blood I hate wedding days suits and tuxedos No, I don't know you I'm just here to sound the hundred drums Of the once before us (The ones to come) Then, there we were and I didn't want to admit Again, I was caught into the ghost of the rapture Or the holy hour, No aux chord Show the holy one Just how old you are On these sacr d lands and a holy grounds Now I want here half an ounce to smoke And there were drowning orchestras in all of the hearts And all of the markets, The market the marker And all of the sins of the savior The maytyr Did you remember not to notice not to know him Were you sure with words you were for nickelodeaon! I was supposed to hold on to, Supposed to hold on to Suddenly, it's summer. And always our own are under the weather There was no other wise man the wind. Lee the one came The site came and went and then the songs went left The songs went left; Again, the songs went left Did you win at wintergreen Well, God, I didn't know gym was a game. I didn't know guns we're just portals to worlds unknownn I didn't know gossip was golden What all else didn't I know It wasn't for here! It was fourth flour And in the final hour of the battle I commenced to summon All the gods and all the lords and all the flowers All the worlds of oceans and the Remember, this The remembrance It may not matter to some, What matters to most But until summer comes, I'm still up under the rail And practically it's spring, for the next two weeks I'm all berries and cream and whatever you wanted. Tormaline, emerald and onyx, the fox said And fox says its west when instead it's quite under what of the reporter's offer? Comes down a little to none What of the offer Comes down from a billion to one A billion to one I'm on TV so it's really just a one way screen Either way, I don't think he likes me much I don't think he likes me much I'd rather die than to fall in love even one more time And to keep on just never being loved Never beingbloved {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.

We're sitting down with Daniel Bennett, a Los Angeles based digital creator and Head of Creative at his own media agency. Daniel has led social strategy for some of the biggest names in entertainment and gaming, including Grammy-winning artists like Diplo and Dillon Francis, as well as global brands like Call of Duty. But what really sets Daniel apart is his ability to blend storytelling and strategy in a way that resonates deeply with today's audiences. While he's made his mark behind the scenes of major campaigns, Daniel has also built a personal brand that's taken off. His relatable content about the chaos of your twenties — from the awkwardness of dating to the ups and downs of friendship — has struck a nerve, earning him over 200,000 followers in just 60 days. His growth has been rooted in one key principle: consistency. In this episode, we dive into what it means to build a sustainable creative career in the ever-evolving digital landscape. We explore how the role of a social media manager has become as vital as a lawyer or a CFO, how Daniel transitioned from agency work to building a brand of his own, and what it takes to stay ahead in the creator economy. On this week's episode you'll learn: How consistency became Daniel's secret weapon for growth What it actually takes to hit 200K followers in 60 days Why creators and brands alike need to rethink how they view social media roles How Daniel took lessons from agency life and applied them to his consulting work What's coming next in the future of content creation and why storytelling still wins  

01. Pete Tong, Avg - Places & Spaces 02. Goom Gum - A Cappella 03. Promise Land, Y&m - Bass Like This 04. Upop - Lick Your Body 05. €uro Tra$h, Yellow Claw, Maleigh Zan - Sweat 06. Clean Bandit, Anne-marie, David Guetta - Cry Baby (VIP Mix) 07. Armin Van Buuren, Louis Iii - Part Of Me 08. Sander Van Doorn, Melissa De Kleine - High On You 09. Don Diablo, Tseba - The Devil Works Hard 10. Repiet - All I Need 11. Brohug - Riff 12. Kream, Ruback - Se Que Quiere 13. Gorgon City, North - Breathe You In 14. Jude & Frank, Javi Reina, Jesus Fernandez, Leka El Po - Ella Quiere 15. Fedde Le Grand, Sansixto - The Rhythm 16. Kryder, Jay Robinson - Better Together 17. Valentino Khan, Nevrmind - Tidal Wave 18. Tinlicker, The Boxer Rebellion - Diamonds (Further Than I Ever Was) 19. Nicole Moudaber, Castion - Get Back 20. Loreno Mayer - I Don't Wanna Be 21. Matroda - Hangin' On 22. R3hab, Rou - Ten Out Of Ten 23. Dubdogz, Volkoder, Danne, Cantini - Toda Vez 24. Darius Syrossian, Kathy Brown - Work It Out 25. Adrien Toma - For Your Soul 26. Benny Benassi, Chris Nasty, Constantin - Make Some Noise 27. Chris Lake - Psycho 28. Soultight - Dum 29. Art Beatz, Art After Dark - After Dark 30. Macker - Check One 31. Esse - Block Rockin Beats 32. Low Steppa - Sin Pero 33. Cassimm, Pietro, Mc Panda - Vem Pra Rave 34. Dillon Francis, Ship Wrek - Whole Lotta Drugs 35. Alok - Don't Mess With The Fire 36. Afrojack, Steve Aoki, Afroki - Everything You Do 37. Cristoph - String Thing 38. Lost Frequencies, The Temper Trap - Sweet Disposition

Damon Sharpe is back with a brand-new episode of #BrainjackRadio! Today's show is loaded with unreleased fire — brand-new heat from Dansyn, Dillon Francis & Marten Hørger, Don Diablo, Joel Corry, Walker & Royce, and a whole lot more! 01. Camisado - IDC 02. Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Heads Will Roll (Dansyn rework) 03. Touchtalk - Change It (Westend Edit) 04. InntRaw & Nadin - VoXxx 05. Dillon Francis, Marten Hørger - Cut The Midrange 06. Joshwa x Enzo Is Burning - Night Moves 07. Disco Lines & Tinashe - No Broke Boys (dansyn Remix) 08. Huck Yeah - So Strong 09. Friendly Fire - Prescribe The Sound 10. Proppa, Rich DietZ, Smith & Sorren - Work 11. Don Diablo x Tseba - The Devil Works Hard 12. Avicii (feat. Elle King) - Let's Ride Away (Joel Corry Remix) 13. JustLuke - Dirty B 14. Two Friends - No One Else ft. Corbyn Besson 15. CID - Can You Really Feel Me 16. Walker & Royce x Kyle Watson - Double Dutch

01. Pete Tong, Avg - Places & Spaces 02. Goom Gum - A Cappella 03. Promise Land, Y&m - Bass Like This 04. Upop - Lick Your Body 05. €uro Tra$h, Yellow Claw, Maleigh Zan - Sweat 06. Clean Bandit, Anne-marie, David Guetta - Cry Baby (VIP Mix) 07. Armin Van Buuren, Louis Iii - Part Of Me 08. Sander Van Doorn, Melissa De Kleine - High On You 09. Don Diablo, Tseba - The Devil Works Hard 10. Repiet - All I Need 11. Brohug - Riff 12. Kream, Ruback - Se Que Quiere 13. Gorgon City, North - Breathe You In 14. Jude & Frank, Javi Reina, Jesus Fernandez, Leka El Po - Ella Quiere 15. Fedde Le Grand, Sansixto - The Rhythm 16. Kryder, Jay Robinson - Better Together 17. Valentino Khan, Nevrmind - Tidal Wave 18. Tinlicker, The Boxer Rebellion - Diamonds (Further Than I Ever Was) 19. Nicole Moudaber, Castion - Get Back 20. Loreno Mayer - I Don't Wanna Be 21. Matroda - Hangin' On 22. R3hab, Rou - Ten Out Of Ten 23. Dubdogz, Volkoder, Danne, Cantini - Toda Vez 24. Darius Syrossian, Kathy Brown - Work It Out 25. Adrien Toma - For Your Soul 26. Benny Benassi, Chris Nasty, Constantin - Make Some Noise 27. Chris Lake - Psycho 28. Soultight - Dum 29. Art Beatz, Art After Dark - After Dark 30. Macker - Check One 31. Esse - Block Rockin Beats 32. Low Steppa - Sin Pero 33. Cassimm, Pietro, Mc Panda - Vem Pra Rave 34. Dillon Francis, Ship Wrek - Whole Lotta Drugs 35. Alok - Don't Mess With The Fire 36. Afrojack, Steve Aoki, Afroki - Everything You Do 37. Cristoph - String Thing 38. Lost Frequencies, The Temper Trap - Sweet Disposition

I'm a size extra small, What are you all on? I lost all of ya'll And then some Sitting on the wall, But I went over once And once and for all I went over up I'll take breakfast At Jimmy and Molly's At Jimmy and Molly's. I'm a mom. I'll take dinner at Jimmy and Molly's A bottle of law for the shrubs and a handful of Molly. I'm in love and a little bit fucked up I don't know what you want, I'm a extra small, bruh I'm a mom And a model I'll have brunch over Jimmy and Molly's Jimmy and Molly. I'll have breakfast at Jimmy and Molly's (At Jimmy and Molly's) I'm at dinner at Jimmy and Molly's And I brought a bottle This is grown folks talk I just watered the shrubs I might go to the club Then the pub in the morning The party at Jimmy and Molly's was awesome I got gin and some tonic I'm probably in love with the — SUNNI BLU blacks out in the SHRUBS after the wild party at [Shrubs] —well, it started at Jimmy Kimmel's house. Where did you learn how to load a gun? Nowhere! [rapid machine gun fire] I taught myself. This is the worst map ever. THE MAP IS OPEN. Location: HIGHLINE PARK, MANHATTAN. THIS IS THE BEST MAP EVER. What the FUCK is wrong with you. Get down! Ahaha! Ahaha! Ppppppppppppllllllltttt! —shing! Bullets ricochet off of the giant pigeon statue. SUNNI BLU How much is it? How much is what? The bird. IVAN You want— to buy my art. Yes. I will buy this. This? This. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in Manhattan. No neck tattoos. I can't be thinking about you While I'm thinking about Not thinking about you I can never get off on a handjob Unless you reach for th heart, Then claw, for the lobster I need a vasectomy The more I orgasm about you the more Kayla's and Katie's and Madison's and Marrianne's and Nancy's. The harder I want you to fuck me The more the Lillies and Emma's, and Kimberlee's, Lexies and Annie's. (Can't forget Ashley) I just bought a submarine A submarine A submarine I just hawked a wedding ring An ice cream truck And a paraglider I despise these guys Should I try the spider Either or Fuck Mother's Day Teacher's appreciation Polyamorouses, Models, Bottle service girls And other whores. What a putrid fallacy you have What's a project— Fantasies in your habit m Now's a nun And a number I been celibate three years And I'm still not hungry enough To reach low on the totem pole For the frog Holding us all up I gotta call my doctor Just to show up the pope! Shut up, work harder I work hard enough getting Don't be dumb. I'm not being dumb. You're dumb. I'm— not— Don't be dumb. DILLON FRANCIS and SUNNI BLU sit awkwardly in the indiscriminate parked car, facing towards the beach, as the Californian fog begins to roll in and obscure the clear view of the night sea. It has been a long a turbulent week since the tabloids and press got ahold of their —can or worms —book of secrets! Whatever shut up. It's been a long week. DILLON FRACIS You know, you don't have to talk like that. SUNNI BLU Talk like what, Dillon Francis? DILLON FRANCIS You can just— be yourself around me. [beat, and a long pause. The awkward tension turns to a deep and complex, serious silence] SUNNI BLU This is my real self, now, Dillon Francis. Holy shit that weird clown statue in Santa Monica almost wants to make sense now. DILLON FRANCIS And you don't have to call me ‘Dillon Francis' anymore. SUNNI BLU Yes I do, Dillon Francis— because it's your name. DILLON FRANCIS I meant— SUNNI BLU Besides, you wouldn't like anything else I'd call you. KENAN THOMPSON is an EXRAODINARY RAPPER— he is SECOND IN THE WORLE after SUNNI BLU and wants to put their ONGOING BEEF and DIFFERENCRS aside for THE REALEST COLLABORATION OF ALL TIME. BITCH. However, Once beginning on the endeavor, the two rappers find it increasingly hard to get along with one another. ABitch. —watch out. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.

Maybe I'm not afraid because it just feels temporary. The noise in the apartment made it easy to let go, and better yet, because of the noise— the only way a pro bono lawyer might speak with me is if I was evicted— then, explaining away that from the day I moved into the apartment my mental health began to spiral and, that recovery from homelessness and having left an abusive relationship became impossible with motorcycles and modified cars circling like buzzards, gangsters slanging on the corner banging music I hated, and an all around environment of unwellness, in which I was unable to cope with the mechanisms of even the simplest tasks, after being bombarded by these hellish people. I was sure that speaking with one sort of lawyer and explaining my heavily documented case would eventually lead to meetings with another kind of lawyer who would see my case and agree that I had been attacked, and severely wounded— and eventually, probably, compensated. It simply wasn't facet of my imagination but seemed there was sort of hate group targeted to stalk and harass me— even in Manhattan, after visiting the Apple Store, a random pair of motorcycles approached and revved their engines thunderously as I walked back to the studio, even startling another passerby, as she shook her head as if to say “that was horrible”, with this look of fear and disgruntlement. It had been two years of this for me, though, and so I was somewhat used to it. It still hurt, but not the way it used to. Inside, sort of like the way a boxer knows how to take a punch because he's trained for it. But this was not my job, and I was not getting paid, unless I could actually put my mind together enough to assimilate some sort of strategy; a lawsuit against the property management and the city itself for allowing the harassment, and at the end of the day, it didn't much care who was responsible, and whether it was politics or street theatre— I just wanted it to stop. I could honestly say that any sort of legal action was indeed not about the money, but rather an escape. Would I live in New York if I did not have to? Not by any means, anyway, in the way I did. Just the view alone set me off, and anytime one of the foam panels fell out of the window from sun or dust and the lot of cars and busy intersection peered through, a gut wrenching anxiety came over me like the way it did when I first saw it; even then, when I first viewed the apartment, I knew that something bad had happened here before I even moved in— and it was bad, the constant motorcycle attacks, and at one point they were not at all writeable enough off as “normal noise”, the way they used to wait until I was almost a sleep to rip through the block and create sonic booms that sounded like bombs—eventually these kinds of attacks stopped but it was around the first year that I started to realize due to these series of traumas my brain was wired differently.i understood that she's were acts of war, but why? I had no intentions of stirring anything up in this place and honestly, from the start, because I was stuck, I had just wanted to get out. Hold on. I got two jokes. Ok. What was the one about— Oh, it's so simple but since they hate black women so much it would probably make a white audience laugh. My ex punched me so hard, I thought I was going to run for president in 2028. That's it? That's the joke. That not a joke. You're right. That's not a joke. I'm not though. I realized that. Please. Don't hit me. [beat] Unless you hit me hard enough that I actually become the actual president. Then, you're free to assassinate me. Thats the joke? Yeah. What a horrible joke. Yeah. Kind of. Okay. What's the other one? It's the—it's that enter the multiverse joke on the Sean Evans timeline. Ok. (Who is Sean Ryan) Idk. [Sean Ryan was the Showrunner of The Shield, Starring Michael Chiklis and Walton Goggins__which ran from 2001-2007, and also fostered the writing career of Kurt Sutter, who went on to create Sons of Anarchy.] Anyway. One of the contestants from hot ones calls Sean and goes, Sean! And Sean's like: Whaddup? Sean! How do you do this bro? [sean is eating ghost pepper cereal for breakfast with ice cold horchata ) Ew. Nice. It was gonna be milk but SEAN EVANS (Aside) The cinnamon gives it a nice schwing. Apparently, The training for hot ones is a non-stop tolerance-topper. Sean RYAN is always doing his best to outdo himself. Yeaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh! Thats right. Any fucking way. Sean! How do you do this everyday, buddy! Do what? My butthole is burning! I don't have one. You— what? I do not any longer have a butthole. Beg your pardon. I got it removed. What. What. Hold on, it's a multilayer joke. 2x Joke multiplier! Are we still playing this game? OH YEAH! goddamn. I really wanna see this fictional koolaid movie. WHERE'S SETH ROGEN? ROB LOWE is directing an episode of ENTER THE MULTIVERSE. DIRECTOR Quiet on Set! He turns to DRAKE BELL who is reprising his role as TIMMY TURNER. ROB LOWE Sorry, is that triggering to you? Nothing is said but instead he just shoots him a look. really on it with the zingers today. What can I say. I juice fasted and then ate like a normal person so maybe— I don't know. What's that supposed to mean. Everything is temporary. My next run isn't scheduled until after midnight but I might climb on the Peloton for an ironic spin. I owe everyone money. Not in the way that I ever wanted to be this bum, but in the way that all of my jobs have been awful enough that— honestly, I never quit, it just eventually all falls apart. I've been almost fondly remembering the— {Season 5} —summer in Las Vegas I had two awful jobs, no car, no place to live, and One boss who looked like Dillon Francis— And well. INT. LAS VEGAS ATHLETIC CLUB. WHENEVER. ITS OPEN 24 HOURS!!! WHEEEEEE!! Omg that guy looks just like Jimmy Fallon. BEFORE Oh, hi Jimmy. Hey! You finally noticed. I been noticing. You know I'm in a screen, right? You're in all the screens. Not all of them. ALL THE SCREENS A large wall of paneled Televisions hangs above the cardio center. … … MEANWHILE For while, the dude was everywhere. And I mean— Yo! I swear to God— —don't do that! — every time I look at a fucking tv, you're on it! shhh—watch your language! For what! You're on the Telivision, I'm not. You are on the Television! I'm not! —look just— trust me I don't have enough time before we're about to cut to co—[mmerciial!] [cuts to commercial] That dude is weird. Hm. That dude does look like Jimmy Fallon. — and one boss that looked like— Well, you get it. Yes he does. Very much so. Hm. Should I fuck him? Ew! No! What! Gross . No. Take his job! What? This incompetent drunken loser was, for a very short time— my manager. Just then when the car alarm when off, I express my not so subconscious, and must remark To remind my dear audience that this SUPACreature Is exponentially explicit, hence the Sexual exploitation of he who is hereby known As [Not] Jimmy Fallon. He was maybe the worst boss I ever had. If not the worse, definitely one of them. He was always drunk, Slept on the job, Was inappropriately explicit, Sexualized everything, And bitterly racist, Lived with his mother, Had social problems And was, Of course— Completely incompetent. Two hosts sit watching the serason premiere with popped corn. Oh. That's clever That's funny. See, those redactions could have been anybody. They were anybody. M— Jimmy!? Which Jimmy?! Last time I had a visionary dream about Jimmy Kimmel he was holding a white candle. At any rate, they were out of black, and I have no idea what that's supposed to mean, but I can only assume that when any host takes an extended hiatus, it's some kind of Contractual agreement. Ah-hem… Sign it. I don't know… about… that. And why not? This creature is one of the most powerful in the multiverse. [Jimmy Fallon] TINA FEY What. Are you serious. —and that's my time. Just trust me on this— NO. Pretty please! Oh, welL, since you made it pretty. Really? NO. Absolutely not. You are increasingly difficult. I learned to brew at thought at wishing wells Again, I gallop, striving to dance past the forced illusions of a non-corrupt decision, The end is near and also, simply The Division. ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: L E G E N D S — The Rock and And the Kite Part X: The Division Bell Part 10?! Yes. How is it part ten? Where are parts 6 through 9 I don't know. I have no clue. (You have no idea) Oh. I get it. The parenthesis are the voice of God. (It's all the voice of God, These are just more strong dictations.) Fix your diction! Fix your Dick Nixon if it don't swing left; On a finite curve, It switches with any direction, Irregular, my guest; I could have asked that. I have no tact, And no talent, No candles left, I can't relax! I just happen to have What I know I can't stand, And that's— High standards for a man. So I imagined a fantasy. My next run was scheduled for midnight but I'd spent the month suffocating and suffering in waist trainers navigating vampires and I had even been stood over by the actual Devil herself on the subway ride home. What even was the point of running all this way and eating all this well If no matter who I tried to love would really turn to the same old evil thing that wanted me dead in the first place? Being honest, I still didn't know what it was at all— but maybe it was always going to try to bite me no matter what I did. So It didn't matter much when the overdue balance came equal to the amount I needed to purchase club standard CDJs, I didn't care about anything because I was never treated fairly with honest or good intentions. Not even from my birth, or my mother, and perhaps that was the problem. My human perception of the world was trained by this thing who could never really see my value or worth in the way that it would take to be fully loved. Something was always wrong with me, and so something was always wrong with the world. All I knew was, I wasn't panicking though it had been an obvious attack— the email had sent as I orgasmed, after a series of the same old system of stress I'd been in for years— revving engines and long bangs and other methods of keeping me from reaching climax— but it was my body, and so just because I was under surveillance for whatever reason; perhaps they were listening and this self release made them uncomfortable, but I needed it. It had been years since my last loving embrace— since my last touch, or stroke, or kiss— and so yes, while admittedly my senses were out of place, they were also heightened in that I knew what was happening in my apartment was wrong, and the worse it got, the more I kept track of the things that were happening, the better off I'd eventually end up, just by respecting myself and my own time. I needed recovery; running down the the gym to be hatestalker by some half naked model or some egotistical little man throwing and slamming things around was going to do no better for my psyche even with a run considered; instead of a mile of mantras, it would instead become a mile of trying to ignore whatever whoever had followed me into the gym was doing to get my attention. Luckily I had a Peloton in my room and with any luck at all, by the afternoon I'd have all the focus in the world to ride it— but for now I was writing, and thinking, and feeling my insides out after a long month sonic alchemy, which had also resulted in my finally reaching the conclusion that I was indeed being followed around. But why? Lil bitz Yo imagine if Amazon had a comment section. Not like reviews but an actual like— Comment section for the ads and products. Don't act like it wouldn't be the little place to just, like, go. [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright The Festival Project, Inc. ™ & The Complex Collective © 2015-2025 All Rights Reserved

Russian hottest electronic dance music duo Swanky Tunes delivers you a weekly radio show. Thrilling 60 minutes of their biggest tracks and hottest bootlegs are waiting for you. From Russia with love!   Swanky Tunes - SHOWLAND 573 01. Swanky Tunes, Valexx - Retirantes 02. Zerb, Sofiya Nzau, Izzy Bizu - Kumbaya (Massane Remix) 03. Afro Medusa - Pasilda (Joan Retamero & Tomas Crow Remix) 04. TWENTY SIX feat. Elisa Gold - Agua Y Paz 05. Shermanology x Green Velvet - Hotter 06. ID - ID 07. Adriatique, Notre Dame, Timbaland, Nelly Furtado - Give It To Me 2025 08. NUZB & Malarkey - Waiting For Ya 09. Alex Sonata & TheRio - The Drill 10. Funkaus - Tonight 11. Pontifexx, DJ Willee, Blue - Stereo Love 12. David Guetta, Hypaton, Bonnie Tyler - Together 13. AFROJACK, Martin Garrix, David Guetta, Amél - Our Time 14. Alok & SOLANCE - Terminator 15. Disco Lines & Tinashe - No Broke Boys (DANSYN Remix) 16. Proppa, Rich DietZ, and Smith & Sorren - Work 17. Alex Warren - Ordinary (David Puentez Remix) 18. Dillon Francis, Marten Hørger - B2U 19. HI-LO & Tai Woffinden - The Orange Theme

Follow me: Facebook: fb.me/xabionly Twitter: twitter.com/xabionly Youtube: youtube.com/xabionly Mixcloud: mixcloud.com/xabionly Instagram: instagram.com/xabionly TRACKLIST: https://1001.tl/17p5zplt Spotify playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4STV7DPVgwI4ntvi1sQvjh?si=CU6lCNZcRkKiZytdXaI5TQ TRACKLIST: 01. Adriatique & Notre Dame & Timbaland & Nelly Furtado - Give It To Me 2025 [DEJA VU] 02. NineFX - The Future Is Now [F.T.F.T] 03. NineFX - I Am Power [F.T.F.T] 04. R3HAB - Tsunami [TOMORROWLAND] [PROMO OF THE WEEK] 05. Ado Woodz & Hyper Eyes - You Feel Like More [CHILL PLANET] 06. Juan Hansen & Damon Jee - Hundred Secrets [WATERGATE] 07. Juan Hansen - Lost [WATERGATE] 08. Goom Gum - Enough [AVTOOK] [RELEASE OF THE WEEK] 09. Sebjak & Layer J - Thevilla [BIBLIOTHEQUE] 10. Paraleven & Burko - Milosonic (Leena Punks Remix) [ARMADA ELECTRONIC ELEMENTS] 11. ARTBAT - Galaxy [MAHOOL] 12. Sam Frandisco & Steve Martano - Rio [WH0 PLAYS] 13. TOYZZ - SexyBack [SPINNIN DEEP] 14. Proppa, Rich DietZ, and Smith & Sorren - Work [MUSICAL FREEDOM] 15. TH;EN, Giolì & Assia - Give You My Love [RESURRECTION] 16. KDH, Blackcode & OAK - Flying [PROTOCOL] 17. Dillon Francis, Marten Hørger - B2U [1001 REC. / TOMORROWLAND] 18. Avicii ft. Elle King - Let's Ride Away (Joel Corry Remix) [INTERSCOPE] 19. bradeazy - Need Your Body [BOOM RECORDS] 20. TELYKAST & Oaks - Super Powers [ARMADA] 21. AFROJACK, Martin Garrix, David Guetta, Amél - Our Time [SPINNIN] [SOCIAL MEDIA VOTE WINNER] 22. Veracocha, Ørjan Nilsen & Ferry Corsten - Carte Blanche [A STATE OF TRANCE] 23. Argy & MEDUZA ft. PollyAnna - Melodia [AETERNA] [TRACK OF THE WEEK] 24. Yves V - V.I.P. [CONTROVERSIA] 25. Dillon Francis, Marten Hørger - Cut The Midrange [1001 REC. / TOMORROWLAND] 26. MrWhite - Highway To Heaven [SELF RELEASED] 27. Larza, Nil Martorell & Axel - Watch Me Bleed [FEELQ] 28. Calvin Harris, Clementine Douglas - Blessings (KETTAMA Remix) [COLUMBIA] 29. Joel Corry x Jennifer Lopez - Get Right (Joel Corry VIP Mix) [SONY] 30. Mau P - Like I Like It (Eli Brown Edit) 31. Martin Romero & Gaston Raze - Fading Lights [KURAI] 32. Martin Romero & Gaston Raze - Midnight Pulse [KURAI] 33. Sebastiaan Hooft, Laybe, Bruno Power - Let's Go [REDESIGN] 34. Benassi Bros, Dhany - Hit My Heart (Charles B & Tonay Remix) [X-ENERGY] 35. BEAUZ, SMACK - Bow Chi Bow (857) [SIGNATUNE] 36. W&W - Bailando [RAVE CULTURE]

01. Tinlicker, The Boxer Rebellion - Diamonds (Further Than I Ever Was) 02. Sam Feldt - The Confession 03. Dillon Francis, Alesso, Clementine Douglas - Free 04. Goodboys, Kream - Paradise 05. Oomloud, Thando, Jusske - Famous 06. Charmes, Awiin - Way Back 07. Prospa, Josh Baker, Rahh - You Don't Own Me 08. Gabry Ponte, Nicky Romero - Rave Music 09. Marten Horger, Crupo, Swen Weber, Stush - Get Low 10. Mauro Fire, Tony Molinari, Ariel El Leon - Pa' Hoy 11. Mosimann, Blythe - Where Did You Go 12. Dubvision, Sick Individuals - Endless Dreamers 13. Kapuzen - Balance 14. Hardcopy, Mike Ferullo - Here One Again 15. Thomas Anthony, Control Room, Chase Paves - Move Like Dat 16. Ownboss, Outflux, No_Me - Preacher 17. Matt Sassari, Sidepiece - Elektro 18. Lost Frequencies, The Temper Trap - Sweet Disposition 19. Argy, Omiki - WIND 20. Joel Corry, Jennifer Lopez - Get Right 21. Fedde Le Grand, Dj Tora - Here Comes The Bass 22. Marc Benjamin - Same Old Love 23. Imanbek, Taichu - ELLA QUIERE TECHNO 24. Moska - Amare 25. Jack Orley - Space 26. Chester Young, Hackatone, Don Diablo - Genesis 27. Timmo Hendriks - Keep Me Blind 28. Timmy Trumpet, Karol Sevilla, Faulhaber, Zorba - Weekend 29. Charlie Powell - Act A Fool 30. Nlw - Desires 31. Dante Klein - Gotta Feel 32. Steff Da Campo, Julian Snijder - Watch It 33. Mike Posner, Steve Aoki - I Took a Pill in Ibiza 34. Cosmic Gate, James French - I'm On Fire 35. Broz Rodriguez, Mike Epsse, Victor Mood - Lokita 36. Cassimm, Pietro, Mc Panda - Vem Pra Rave 37. Cat Dealers, Tineway, Dani Doucette - Cry for You 38. Clkout, Matsu, Mike Deuce - Never Felt Before

01. Tinlicker, The Boxer Rebellion - Diamonds (Further Than I Ever Was) 02. Sam Feldt - The Confession 03. Dillon Francis, Alesso, Clementine Douglas - Free 04. Goodboys, Kream - Paradise 05. Oomloud, Thando, Jusske - Famous 06. Charmes, Awiin - Way Back 07. Prospa, Josh Baker, Rahh - You Don't Own Me 08. Gabry Ponte, Nicky Romero - Rave Music 09. Marten Horger, Crupo, Swen Weber, Stush - Get Low 10. Mauro Fire, Tony Molinari, Ariel El Leon - Pa' Hoy 11. Mosimann, Blythe - Where Did You Go 12. Dubvision, Sick Individuals - Endless Dreamers 13. Kapuzen - Balance 14. Hardcopy, Mike Ferullo - Here One Again 15. Thomas Anthony, Control Room, Chase Paves - Move Like Dat 16. Ownboss, Outflux, No_Me - Preacher 17. Matt Sassari, Sidepiece - Elektro 18. Lost Frequencies, The Temper Trap - Sweet Disposition 19. Argy, Omiki - WIND 20. Joel Corry, Jennifer Lopez - Get Right 21. Fedde Le Grand, Dj Tora - Here Comes The Bass 22. Marc Benjamin - Same Old Love 23. Imanbek, Taichu - ELLA QUIERE TECHNO 24. Moska - Amare 25. Jack Orley - Space 26. Chester Young, Hackatone, Don Diablo - Genesis 27. Timmo Hendriks - Keep Me Blind 28. Timmy Trumpet, Karol Sevilla, Faulhaber, Zorba - Weekend 29. Charlie Powell - Act A Fool 30. Nlw - Desires 31. Dante Klein - Gotta Feel 32. Steff Da Campo, Julian Snijder - Watch It 33. Mike Posner, Steve Aoki - I Took a Pill in Ibiza 34. Cosmic Gate, James French - I'm On Fire 35. Broz Rodriguez, Mike Epsse, Victor Mood - Lokita 36. Cassimm, Pietro, Mc Panda - Vem Pra Rave 37. Cat Dealers, Tineway, Dani Doucette - Cry for You 38. Clkout, Matsu, Mike Deuce - Never Felt Before

On this episode of CD Burners, the guys are deep diving into the legendary pop punk album, Take Off Your Pants and Jacket by Blink-182 with special guest, renowned DJ & producer, Dillon Francis. From fart jokes to existential angst, iconic singles to hidden gems, we dive into it all & get the inside scoop on how this record shaped Dillon's taste.

Our guy Dillon Francis made some time to talk reconnecting with DJ Snake, taking a Waymo for the first time, signing random food items & much more! Watch: https://youtu.be/XPhmO9xBGmE follow us on social! @themorningmess

01. Steve Aoki, David Guetta, Swae Lee, Pnb Rock - My Life (Record Mix) 02. Playmen, Valeron, Klavdia - Touch Me (Record Mix) 03. Zerb, The Chainsmokers, Ink - Addicted (Record Mix) 04. Oliver Heldens, Djs From Mars, Jd Davis - Blue Monday (Record Mix) 05. Gamuel Sori, Lovespeake, Amice - Us (Record Mix) 06. Ofenbach - Be Mine (Record Mix) 07. Kygo, Ava Max, Tiesto - Whatever (Record Mix) 08. Robin Schulz, James Blunt - OK (Record Mix) 09. Shane Codd - Rather Be Alone (Record Mix) 10. R3Hab, Vize, Jp Cooper, Amice - Jet Plane (Record Mix) 11. Dillon Francis, Ship Wrek - Whole Lotta Drugs (Record Mix) 12. Junior Jack - Stupidisco (Record Mix) 13. Lufthaus, Sophie Ellis-Bextor - Immortal (Record Mix) 14. Ray Dalton, Amice - All We Got (Record Mix) 15. Teriyaki Boyz, Hayat - Tokyo Drift (Record Mix) 16. Dubdogz, Zerky - Sun Goes Down (Sound Of Violence) (Record Mix) 17. Dj Louis - Let Me Blow Ya Mind (Record Mix) 18. Kungs - Clap Your Hands (Record Mix) 19. Jerome Robins, Karsten Sollors - Don't Stop The Music (Record Mix) 20. Zhu - Faded (Record Mix) 21. Marc Benjamin - Same Old Love (Record Mix) 22. Aaron Smith, Luvli, Krono - Dancin' (Record Mix) 23. Sean Finn - Give It to Me (Record Mix) 24. Loreen, Denis First - Tattoo (Record Mix) 25. Nicky Romero, Giacobbi, Fatboi - Move It (Record Mix) 26. Avicii - Fade into Darkness (Record Mix) 27. Lola Young, Ted Bear - Messy (Record Mix) 28. Hugel, Topic, Arash, Daecolm - I Adore You (Record Mix) 29. Calvin Harris, Ellie Goulding - Outside (Record Mix) 30. Timmy Trumpet, Karol Sevilla, Faulhaber, Zorba - Weekend (Record Mix) 31. Fisher - Losing It (Record Mix) 32. Drenchill, Indiiana - Feel This Way (Record Mix) 33. Bodybangers, Stephen Oaks - See You Again (Record Mix) 34. C Block, The Distance, Riddick - So Strung Out (Record Mix) 35. Armin Van Buuren, Sam Gray - Dream a Little Dream (Record Mix) 36. Alexander Popov, Whiteout, Vaileri - Need to Feel Loved (Record Mix) 37. Crazibiza, Cheesecake Boys - Nasty (Record Mix) 38. Dezko - Ascend (Record Mix) 39. Tiesto - Lay Low (Record Mix) 40. Regard, Years & Years - Hallucination (Record Mix) 41. Inna, Melon, Dance Fruits Music - Hello Hello (Record Mix) 42. Block & Crown, Daisy - Mr Vain (Record Mix) 43. Cyril, Dean Lewis, Amice - Fall At Your Feet (Record Mix) 44. Imanbek, Younotus - Heal My Heart (Record Mix) 45. Tony Igy, Vicetone - Astronomia (Record Mix) 46. Imany, Ivan Spell, Daniel Magre - You Will Never Know (Record Mix) 47. Alok, Ella Eyre, Kenny Dope, Never Dull - Deep Down (Record Mix) 48. Sean Finn - Crazy (Record Mix) 49. Don Diablo - The Way I Are (Record Mix) 50. Gorgon City, Katy Menditta - Imagination (Record Mix) 51. Hypaton, David Guetta, La Bouche - Be My Lover (Record Mix) 52. Lady Gaga - Abracadabra (Record Mix) 53. Kygo, Sandro Cavazza - Hold On Me (Record Mix) 54. Faul, Wad, Pnau - Changes (Record Mix) 55. Robin Schulz, Francesco Yates - Sugar (Record Mix) 56. Oneil, Kanvise, Smola - Boys (Record Mix) 57. Richard Grey - At Night (Record Mix) 58. Kylie Minogue - Lights Camera Action (Record Mix) 59. Zerb, Ty Dolla $Ign, Wiz Khalifa - Location (Record Mix) 60. Dj Dimixer, Favia - One of Us (Record Mix) 61. Purple Disco Machine, Sophie & The Giants, Denis F - In The Dark (Record Mix) 62. Ian Carey, Michelle Shellers, Manyfew, Joe Stone - Keep On Rising (Record Mix) 63. Dr Kucho!, Gregor Salto, Oliver Heldens - Can't Stop Playing (Record Mix) 64. Marshmello, Jonas Brothers, Alex Caspian - Slow Motion (Record Mix) 65. Lost Frequencies, Dimaro - Are You With Me (Record Mix) 66. Annabell Kowalski - Hey Boy Hey Girl (Record Mix) 67. Goodboys, Nu Aspect, Avaion - Blindspot (Record Mix) 68. Klangkarussell, Denis First - Home (Record Mix) 69. Gregory Porter, Jonas Blue - Liquid Spirit (Record Mix) 70. Titov - Philosophy (Record Mix) 71. Usher, Lusso, Redliners - Yeah! (Record Mix) 72. Feder, Emmi - Blind (Record Mix) 73. Matt Sassari, Sidepiece - Elektro (Record Mix) 74. Aria, Na-No - Bleu Chanel (Record Mix) 75. Dimitri Vegas, Vin Diesel, Zion - Don't Stop The Music (Record Mix) 76. Meysta, Bersage, Haluna - Salt (Record Mix) 77. Felix Jaehn, Shouse - Walk With Me (Record Mix) 78. Empire Of The Sun, Tony Romera - Walking on a dream (Record Mix) 79. Playmen, Hadley - Luv You (Record Mix) 80. Jaden Bojsen, David Guetta - Let's Go (Record Mix) 81. Alok, Ilkay Sencan, Tove Lo - Don't Say Goodbye (Record Mix) 82. R3Hab - Right Here, Right Now (Record Mix) 83. Gorgon City, Romans - Saving My Life (Record Mix) 84. Plastik Funk, Jay Hardway - Coming Home (Record Mix) 85. Maruv, Boosin - Drunk Groove (Record Mix) 86. Global Deejays, Jenia Smile, Ser Twister - The Sound Of San Francisco (Record Mix) 87. Dj Antoine, Tom Novy - Superstar (Record Mix) 88. Steve Angello, Modern Tales - Darkness In Me (Record Mix) 89. Imanbek, Trevor Daniel - In The Morning (Record Mix) 90. Don Diablo, Paolo Pellegrino - Dangerous (Record Mix) 91. Avicii, Dan Tyminski - Hey Brother (Record Mix) 92. Crazibiza - Fresh (Record Mix) 93. Oneil, Kanvise, Sara Phillips - Prayer in C (Record Mix) 94. Tiesto - The Business (Record Mix) 95. Sakko, Jibaro - Carnival (Record Mix) 96. Oliver Heldens, Becky Hill - Gecko (Overdrive) (Record Mix) 97. Semm, Orfa - How Deep Is Your Love (Record Mix) 98. Martin Garrix - Animals! (Record Mix) 99. Max Oazo - Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (Record Mix) 100. Calvin Harris, Dua Lipa - One Kiss (Record Mix) 101. Tayna, Marshmello, Ukay - Si Ai (Record Mix) 102. Basto! - Again & Again (Record Mix) 103. Alex Gaudino, Blender, Ragdoll - I LUV U (Sunny) (Record Mix) 104. Filatov & Karas, Busy Reno - Au Revoir (Record Mix) 105. Iommi, Micah, Perfect Pitch, Alex Caspian - Up And Down (Record Mix) 106. Armin Van Buuren, Goodboys - Forever (Stay Like This) (Record Mix) 107. Anthony Keyrouz - Love Yourself (Record Mix) 108. Tate Mcrae, Dj Dark - greedy (Record Mix) 109. Dimitri Vegas, Like Mike, Ne-Yo - Higher Place (Record Mix) 110. Anabel Englund - Get Busy (Record Mix) 111. Tujamo, Azteck, Inna - Freak (Record Mix) 112. Edward Maya, Yohani - Diamonds (Record Mix) 113. Lost Culture, Morfi, Carine - Lean On (Record Mix) 114. Diplo, Maren Morris - 42 (Record Mix) 115. Maurizio Basilotta, Mf Productions - You're Not Alone (Record Mix) 116. Zerb, Sofiya Nzau - Mwaki (Record Mix) 117. Cat Dealers, Lothief, Santti - Sunshine (Record Mix) 118. Shouse - Love Tonight (Record Mix) 119. Swanky Tunes, Shapov - Wannabe (Record Mix) 120. Misha Miller, Alexvelea, Bodega - Bam Bam (Record Mix) 121. Bob Sinclar, Steve Edwards, Fisher - World, Hold On (Record Mix) 122. Teriyaki Boyz, Hayat - Tokyo Drift (Record Mix) 123. Camelphat, Elderbrook - Cola (Record Mix) 124. Keanu Silva, Don Diablo - King of My Castle (Record Mix) 125. Mind Electric - Things You Say (Record Mix) 126. Robin Schulz, David Guetta - On Repeat (Record Mix) 127. Duke Dumont - Won't Look Back (Record Mix) 128. Joel Corry, Pickle, Vula - Stay Together (Baby Baby) (Record Mix) 129. Laurent Wolf, Ahoona - Calinda (Record Mix) 130. Dante Klein - Gotta Feel (Record Mix) 131. Modjo - Lady (Hear Me Tonight) (Record Mix) 132. Tiesto, Kshmr, Vassy - Secrets (Record Mix) 133. Fast Boy, Raf, Amice - Wave (Record Mix) 134. Mr. V, Nesi (Es) - Feel Blessed (Record Mix) 135. Alle Farben - Bad Ideas (Record Mix) 136. Alok, Jess Glynne - Summer's Back (Record Mix) 137. Dj Dimixer - Sweet Melody (Record Mix) 138. Purple Disco Machine, Kungs - Substitution (Record Mix)

Support the pod and get so much extra content for $5/month at https://www.patreon.com/stiffsockspod Bonus eps also available on Apple Podcasts! https://www.apple.co/socks More Dillon Francis: YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@dillonfrancis IG: https://www.instagram.com/dillonfrancis Tour: https://dillonfrancis.com

01. Roland Clark, Mark Knight, James Hurr - Get Deep 02. Dillon Francis, Ship Wrek - Whole Lotta Drugs 03. Timmy Trumpet, Karol Sevilla, Faulhaber, Zorba - Weekend 04. Chris Lake X Amber Mark - In My Head 05. Wh0 - The Funk 06. Moska - Amare 07. Edx - Desire 08. Brohug - Doors 09. Oomloud, Alannys Weber - Don't Get Lazy 10. Mau P - The Less I Know The Better 11. Volac - 4 The Trouble 12. Chris Lake, Aluna - More Baby 13. Fedde Le Grand, Funkerman, Smokin' Jack Hill - Turntable Truth 14. D.O.D - Reach For You 15. Boris Brejcha, Diplo - Save My Soul 16. Twin Diplomacy - I Got Feelings 17. Mosimann, Blythe - Where Did You Go 18. Lady Bee, Diamanta - Set 19. Cid - Pass Out 20. Curbi, Nadia Gattas - Want My Love 21. Marten Horger, Slvr - Purple Pill 22. Felguk, Watzgood - Horny 23. Charlie Powell - Act A Fool 24. Nlw - Desires 25. Nicky Romero, Giacobbi, Fatboi - Move It (Rapidin) 26. Jake Silva - Groove 27. Seth Hills - Light 28. Kvsh, Dvbbs - No No No 29. Wax Motif, Greg (Br), Doug! - Shake It 30. €Uro Tra$H, Valentina Cy - Tokyo 31. Cat Dealers - Old School Vibe 32. Steve Aoki, Jj Lin, Lucas & Steve - The Show 33. Tim Hox - Riddim 34. Kream - Manta 35. Aisu - Birkins 36. Castion - You're The One 37. Don Diablo - Freek Like Me 38. Mark Knight, James Hurr - You Take Me Higher