Podcasts about Forbearance

Ephesians 4 (ESV)Andrew, Isack, and Edwin discuss the goal of unity within a congregation and the important steps to accomplish unity.Read the written devo that goes along with this episode by clicking here.    Let us know what you are learning or any questions you have. Email us at TextTalk@ChristiansMeetHere.org.    Join the Facebook community and join the conversation by clicking here. We'd love to meet you. Be a guest among the Christians who meet on Livingston Avenue. Click here to find out more. Michael Eldridge sang all four parts of our theme song. Find more from him by clicking here.   Thanks for talking about the text with us today.________________________________________________If the hyperlinks do not work, copy the following addresses and paste them into the URL bar of your web browser: Daily Written Devo: https://readthebiblemakedisciples.wordpress.com/?p=24875The Christians Who Meet on Livingston Avenue: http://www.christiansmeethere.org/Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/TalkAboutTheTextFacebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/texttalkMichael Eldridge: https://acapeldridge.com/ 

On practice as a continuous evolution of form, care and depth, and sustaining the light of our teachers as an act of love.  Kino MacGregor is a Miami native, happiest on the beach with a fresh coconut. She's a poet at heart, always stopping to smell the flowers. She also the founder of Omstars, the world's first yoga TV network, and her message of spiritual strength reaches practitioners the world over. With 1m+ followers on Instagram and over 500k subscribers on YouTube and Facebook, she's sought after as an expert in yoga and international yoga teacher, inspirational speaker, author of four books, producer of six Ashtanga Yoga DVDs, a writer, vlogger, world traveler, and co-founder of Miami Life Center. (0:00) – Introduction (3:03) – The Spiritual Journey of Yoga (8:46) – The Role of Yoga in End-of-Life Preparation (14:20) – The Importance of Patience and Forbearance in Yoga (24:18) – Balancing Personal Challenges and Joyful Moments (26:12) – The Evolution of Kino's Teaching and Practice (31:30) – Conclusion and Gratitude https://kinoyoga.com

Homily for the Sunday of Orthodoxy On the Sunday of Orthodoxy, the Church celebrates more than the restoration of icons in 843; she proclaims the full implications of the Incarnation. Drawing from St. John of Damascus, St. Theodore the Studite, Genesis, and the theology of beauty, this homily explores how Christ restores not only matter, but humanity's creative vocation. In Him, we are not merely icons — we are iconographers, shaping our marriages, friendships, and parishes into visible proclamations of the Gospel. --- The Restoration of the Image — and the Hands That Shape It Today we celebrate the restoration of the holy icons. In the year 843, after years of persecution and confusion, the Church once again lifted up the images of Christ, His Mother, and the saints. The Church proclaimed that icons are not idols. They are not violations of the commandments. They are proclamations of the Gospel of salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ. But if we reduce this feast to a historical victory or a doctrinal correction, we miss its depth. The Sunday of Orthodoxy is not only about winning a theological argument or correcting decades of injustices. It is about restoring something in humanity itself. We were made in the image and likeness of God.  Our image is corrupted not just by sin, but by a particular way of missing the mark: bad theology.  This isn't just about the suitability of having icons in worship; it's about us and our role in the Great Restoration. I. Matter and the Incarnation [You see,] Iconoclasm was not merely about pictures. It was about mediation. Can matter reveal God? Can created things proclaim the uncreated? [And especially this:] Can human hands shape something that participates in divine glory? On the first two questions, St. John of Damascus, answered with stunning clarity: "I do not worship matter; I worship the Creator of matter who became matter for my sake." And again: "When the Invisible One becomes visible in the flesh, you may then depict the likeness of Him who was seen." The Incarnation changes everything. If Christ truly assumed flesh — if He entered matter — if He allowed Himself to be seen and touched — then matter is not a barrier to communion. It becomes a vehicle of it. St. Theodore the Studite pressed this further. To reject the icon, he argued, is to weaken the confession that Christ truly became man. If He can be described in words, He can be depicted in color. We know that;"the honor given to the image passes to the prototype." The icon does not trap Christ in wood and paint; it confesses that He truly entered history. The restoration of the icons is the restoration of the Incarnation's full implications. II. Genesis: The First Iconography But to understand this feast completely, we must go back to Genesis. In the beginning, God creates. He speaks, and the world comes into being. And again and again we hear: "It is good." And finally: "It is very good." Creation is not neutral. It is beautiful. It reveals without containing. And in its beauty, it points beyond itself. Creation itself is iconographic. And humanity is made in the image and likeness of God.  And here I don't mean as an icon of Him.  We are going deeper into the mystery. Adam is placed in the garden not merely as a spectator, but as a cultivator. He names. He tends. He shapes. He receives creation from God and participates in its ordering. Humanity's vocation was always creative — not to rival God, but to cooperate with Him. Sin distorted that vocation. Instead of shaping toward communion and moving things to greater grace, we grow thorns and thistles.  Creation groans in travail.  And in our fallenness we forget the beauty of creation and turn it into an instrument to satisfy our own desires.  [We exercise the power poorly, without grace.] Some think that this misunderstanding came about as a result of the enlightenment or of capitalism.  Today we are reminded that the temptation to pervert our role in creation is much, much, older – iconoclasm was just another in a long line of perversity and deception. Iconoclasm is not only the smashing of panels. It is the denial that creation — and humanity — can [and should] bear glory. III. The Icon as Transfigured Humanity Leonid Ouspensky reminds us that the icon is not simply religious art. It is dogma in color. It expresses the Church's lived experience of salvation. The icon does not portray humanity as it appears in fallen naturalism [there are no shadows], but as it is restored and transfigured in Christ. The elongated figures. The stillness. The inverted perspective. These are not stylistic quirks. They proclaim something: Man is not closed in on himself.  He is opened toward eternity.vThe icon reveals humanity healed. The restoration of icons in 843 was not merely permission to paint. It was the declaration that man, in Christ, may once again shape matter toward glory. IV. Beauty That Forms Vision We have spoken often about beauty. Beauty is not decoration. It is goodness and truth made visible. The Church building is not a neutral space. It is a reordered world. The dome lifts our eyes. The iconostasis teaches hierarchy without domination. The chant trains our breath and disciplines our attention. Beauty heals perception.  Iconoclasm was not only doctrinal confusion. It was blindness. Orthodoxy restores sight. V. The Turn: You Are an Iconographer But now we must go deeper. The Sunday of Orthodoxy is not only about painted panels. It is about restored humanity. As a member of the royal priesthood, made in the image and likeness of God;  You are a subcreator [Tolkein). You are an iconographer. In Genesis, God creates — and then entrusts creation to man. Humanity was made not only to reflect glory, but to cultivate and shape the world so that it reveals and glorifies God more clearly. Christ restores that vocation to you, His royal priesthood. If He is the true Image of the Father, and if we are renewed in His likeness through Christ, then our creative capacity is healed. And this means, most especially, our relationships.  Only a few of us have the eye and hand to be iconographers in the classic sense [I don't], but all of us are called to paint, as it were, our love with the people around us. Every word is a brushstroke. Every graceful silence lays background color. Every act of patience draws a line. Every act of pride distorts proportion. We are painting our marriages. We are composing our friendships. We are shaping the soul of our parish. The question is not whether we are iconographers; whether we are artists. The question is what we are painting; what we are creating. Marriage Marriage is not two finished icons placed side by side. It is collaborative iconography. Patience becomes the background wash. Forbearance outlines the figures. Forgiveness restores the light when shadows creep in. An icon must have proportion and balance. So must a marriage. If one insists always on being right, the lines warp. If resentment lingers, the colors darken. But when humility returns again and again, the image clarifies. Friendship Friendship is also creative labor. We shape one another through attention and restraint. Do we magnify one another's anger? Or soften it? Do we sharpen cynicism? Or cultivate gratitude? True friendship paints with gentleness. Patience lays the foundation. Forbearance preserves harmony. Grace keeps the symmetry intact. When two friends bear one another quietly, Christ becomes visible between them. Parish We have a lot of art here, but a parish is not a museum of icons. It is a workshop. Every unseen act of service adds gold leaf. Every quiet forgiveness restores damaged color. Every refusal to gossip preserves the symmetry of grace. The beauty of a parish is not first in its architecture. It is in the patience of its people. Conclusion St. John of Damascus defended matter. St. Theodore defended the Incarnation. Ouspensky reminds us that the icon reveals man transfigured. The Sunday of Orthodoxy proclaims that in Christ, humanity's creative vocation is restored. Matter can bear glory. Human hands can proclaim truth. Relationships can reveal Christ. In Christ, our sight is healed. In Christ, our hands are healed. The only question remaining is this: What are we painting? Amen.  

When we talk about the prayer of forbearance, we are talking about prayer that is characterized by patience, endurance, and long-suffering (or another way to think about it is would be “suffering long”). In your community groups this past week, you talked about some of the reasons why God does not answer prayer as quickly…

Joy, Peace, and Patience - The Work Within You

Joy, Peace, and Patience - The Work Within You

Do you ever feel like life has become louder, faster, and more demanding than your heart was meant to carry? In this week’s episode of The Love Offering Podcast, I’m joined by counselor, author, and farm-living mama Brenda Yoder to talk about her new book, Uncomplicated: Simple Secrets for a Compelling Life. This conversation is a gentle invitation to slow down, breathe deep, and rediscover the wisdom that once shaped steady, grounded lives. Brenda draws from the practices of our grandmothers and the rhythms of Amish and Mennonite communities to share practical, life-giving lessons for today’s busy women. We talk about what it looks like to resist the pull of constant chaos and instead cultivate a calm presence, authentic faith, and a steady voice of reason—right where you are. In our conversation, you’ll hear: Why simpler doesn’t mean easier—but it often means better How timeless practices can bring peace to modern life What past generations can teach us about faith, work, family, and rest Small, practical shifts you can make to live with more intention No matter your season of life or where you call home, this episode offers encouragement and wisdom for anyone longing for a more grounded, meaningful way of living. You can listen to the episode now wherever you get your podcasts. I pray this conversation meets you right where you are and reminds you that a simpler life is still possible—and deeply compelling. Connect with Brenda: https://brendayoder.com/ Connect with Rachael: https://rachaelkadams.com/ Download your Free Love Always Devotional: https://rachaelkadams.com/free/Support the Show: https://rachaelkadams.com/ Discover more Christian podcasts at lifeaudio.com and inquire about advertising opportunities at lifeaudio.com/contact-us.

Romans 2 pt3 - God's Forbearance by Ray Jensen

Romans 2 pt2 - God's Forbearance by Ray Jensen

Romans 2 pt1 - God's Forbearance by Ray Jensen

Can you use whole life insurance to pay off debt? In this real case study, Caleb Guilliams and Denzel Rodriguez ( @DenzelNapoleonRodriguez break down how a properly structured whole life insurance policy was used to pay down $140,000 in student loan debt. We walk through real numbers, cash value, policy loans, interest rates, and when this strategy actually makes sense and when it doesn't. Want a Life Insurance Policy? Go Here: https://bttr.ly/bw-yt-aa-clarity Want FREE Whole Life Insurance Resources & Education? Go Here: https://bttr.ly/yt-bw-vault Want Us To Review Your Permanent Life Insurance Policy? Click Here: https://bttr.ly/yt-policy-review 00:00 Whole Life Insurance Case Study: Paying Off Debt 01:46 Life Insurance to Pay Off Debt 03:55 Pre-policy Parameters 06:53 Rules for Borrowing Against a Policy 08:28 Debt Repayment vs. Starting a Permanent Policy 10:37 Convertible Term Insurance and Debt Snowballing 13:01 High-Interest Debt and Whole Life 16:28 Denzel's Case Study: 22-Year-Old Female with Student Loans 19:26 Student Loans in Forbearance and Interest Capitalization 24:50 When Using Whole Life to Pay Off Debt Makes Sense (and When It Doesn't) 27:03 Comparing Debt Payoff Strategies 31:07 Leveraging Whole Life to Pay Off Debt 34:25 Cash Flow and Debt Repayment 38:52 Leveraging Borrowed Money to Fund Whole Life Insurance 50:45 Importance of Personal Growth and Certainty 55:50 Final Thoughts ______________________________________________ Learn More About BetterWealth: https://betterwealth.com ==================== DISCLAIMER: https://bttr.ly/aapolicy *This video is for entertainment purposes only and is not financial or legal advice. Financial Advice Disclaimer: All content on this channel is for education, discussion, and illustrative purposes only and should not be construed as professional financial advice or recommendation. Should you need such advice, consult a licensed financial or tax advisor. No guarantee is given regarding the accuracy of the information on this channel. Neither host nor guests can be held responsible for any direct or incidental loss incurred by applying any of the information offered.

Masterpiece Audiobooks: Collection of Chinese Classic Novels

Masterpiece Podcasts: Collection of Chinese Classic Novels

Masterpiece Podcasts: Collection of Chinese Classic Novels

A practitioner in Taiwan shares a comprehensive tale of her cultivation experience. When her practitioner mother passed away she was inspired to take up Dafa wholeheartedly. When she then made a decision to dedicate her career to The Epoch Times, she underwent many tests and tribulations. At critical junctures and during several trials, when she consistently placed saving others above all else, all challenges were benevolently resolved. This and other experience-sharing from the Minghui website.Original Articles:1. [Fahui] Dedicating Myself to Media Work, Elevating Through Truth-Clarification2. Practicing Truthfulness, Compassion, Forbearance to Be a Good Doctor3. Feeling Calm and Carefree After Becoming a Practitioner, Validating Dafa with a Pure and Clean Heart To provide feedback on this podcast, please email us at feedback@minghuiradio.org

Theme: Paul exhorts the saints to live peaceably. I. Exhortation—"Put on" II. Forbearance and Forgiveness A. This is a two-fold category B. "Bearing with one another" C. "Forgiving each other, whoever has a complaint vs. anyone" III. Reasons A. New self 1. You've been changed! 2. Chosen of God 3. Holy 4. Beloved B. Divine forgiveness 1. In Christ, we have a great example of forgiveness 2. Beyond that, we know that He has forgiven us—Col. 2:13 3. Also, the Lord empowers us to forgive others Observation and Application A. This type of activity is essential for the genuine believer 1. It is a sure and necessary sign of the new birth 2. We are called upon to be peacemakers 3. Showing forth the praises of Him who called us out of darkness into His marvelous light 4. This activity is essential also in the corporate sense 5. Therefore, pray for others and for yourself in this regard B. How does this message need to be applied to you?

Not even a wisper of collision penetrates explicitly this inclusion; Segmented and represented this disarray of miserable approval, And, abject, Or i object, I guess To that which is to say Today is in between the ordinary and disarray, To make arrangements; A solemn display of effect and intent of regression, And yet without all clear disrespect to port or establishment; Still here are there words and where there was love, no more— none for her but then around, within arousal stands as that, to which has since been lost, If not to time, another concept thus by force unknown, to with and withstand habitat for circumstantial evidence of coincidence, But yet arbitrary and then dismayed for short or arc, There this, no more her words for flower, more of words to thus embark. Still time, Very well, my breath, for I have opened a foreign chapter— Then with the way you say, you wore our out, In time you are uncovered for her drugs and left to smuggle over-under— Therefore when that said time has come, you know to form the drift to wait, And yet lack still this patience I have tamed you many acres since the ancients fell upon there ails; There pitting since sunk and crucial to this, and our time is not lost nor won, disheveled making prayers for sense and dollar signs; No have no more barren chest and thought of songs, much less a found the words for songs as though my love has crept upon the rock, That dusk and dawn, the ocean licks with parched tongue. Scare her dry and feast and fragile and evidence remained as these as words and thoughts, The truths would tell the tale for every way. With each drift scattered mark, upon those boats with sails above known not as white but also many colors of the brethren cut from clothes of all apart and none of one, for this, her maritime. {Enter The Multiverse} I opened right to Debbie downer; I got medicine for your habit (I got the remedy in the form of a secret, But the misery is in keeping it) I got a kind heart, I did some mai tai, Should have learned some thai chi As if I took some matcha Or chai tea Caffeine Adrenaline I got a kind heart Adderall instead of Ritalin Entry level access Salary yellow fashion, Intercept, invest Inception, redirect Service elevator, eh; She don't live here no more But where she is? Couldn't tell you. What's the story On a ten star war. No more Harvard, Purple hearted general, General admission to a festival? Just miss me that that bullshit. For your pleasure, Every crevice just has pressure in it— Now I get it I hypnotized myself, I guess The ribbon Blue belt I should be cleaning instead of half sleeping; I keep explaining myself thinking somebody can hear me When they obviously can't. I've been screaming silently for seven seconds, Several years I think on other planets Pull your hair back in a bun And then you'll learn, I guess I passed out cold upon the stand That was the plan, I guess Much slower to close than to open, Although, I know I pop-button broke the code before But still no low moral summoning (Sorry, product) Still no low road or mud throwing No more home She's 32 and 3 months older But looks much longer And harder, tired Must have body or Motive Must have body Or bad intentions Take a man, and write a book about it Take a man, and write a book about it I call that a thirst trap I call that a thirst trap. She must no longer Prim and proper But the work is never over, Show us all the roots, and know the knowledge But don't talk or comment on it I was “almost” once And I was honest twice Three times, you're a liar Mister, honor, pleasure, Fisher wife And never leather, Tipping tethered, Tied to rock and kite And lock and key For here and there Forbearance, rather Here for never ever after Amen and then some L E G E N D S I told you Jimmy Fallon was a Skrillex. I know. What's worse: Skrillex is a Jimmy Fallon. Oh, that is worse. yO iT iS pRoGrEsSiVeLy WOrSE: Is this what you wanted? The awful destruction of constructs— Click, boom— Knife, gun, Add an axe, Bind the axel, Excellent, Put the prejudice inside your head ahead (We brought it back) Put the Edipus complex To this effect Upon a platter Silver as the gun at stake, And raise the hand that shouldn't matter After that? You won. Four tries; Six goons, Four Gods, One white ther I have Two white coats and misters, hot coals Dark fires, have ones, Six mazes, one center On your mark “The Dark Forest” Ugh I hate this one, Get set Don't forget, we all died here. We all crisis, We all Christ. Goosebumps, right? Gimmie that kite! You dumb son of a bitch! GO! Check it out! I look like Kim Kardashian. But you smell like Kim Chi. Yooo that joke took me like 2 months to write down! I know huh! [The Festival Project ™] I looked for something on Hulu to watch for so long that I almost ate my entire dinner without clicking on something. Finally, I find something that interests me, which is just a graphic of a television set and some color palette by now that is somewhat of a calling card for me. So I get there, And it is of interests, And yet of course the unexplainable anomaly of this, is that, no matter how far I try to run l He just keeps coming back. ‘Like this is crazy.' I never found myself agreeing with Louis C.K. about anything at all, and personally and particularly, I never found him funny, until, that was the sudden realization that the same array of betrayal, anger, and agony fueled by rage and jealousy had taken over he and I and many others probably, when introduced to the possibility of having to share the same reality with a head of hair and a face like that. I might have mustered a “my sentiments exactly” though silently before taking in to my own wonder and amazement that twice in one week, besides skipping over the algorithmic traps in my sidebar which I treated like little land mines or time bombs, but mostly allotted to my own Internet history of my uninhabited viewing, as it seemed I'd been most preoccupied in rerouting this energy into a fascination with TV programming, giving me the satiety for the comfort and familiarity in something; and I was with some some kind of certainty I knew alluded to the old adage of mother knowing everything. Even if everything hadn't happened yet, actually, or maybe it had. This strange sort of desire however was some sort of weakness, with the ability to have a fixation for a desire without any way of actually getting it. As she used to say. “Having champagne taste, but beer money.” [so I avoid it because it makes me angry.] Sometimes even, tearfully angry, and it made me feel so uncontrollably adolescent that I would have equated it to the hysteria of beetlemania; screaming and clawing and aching and chasing for this being that was so notably out of reach. Worse off, I'd realized in this running from what seemed was chasing me was how common I was in this feeling, [] To my demise. In this sense, the safety of this entire being and any alike, was that I could seek logic in my jealousy by rationalizing not attaching to a certain subject sexually or otherwise. But this basis in the contempt of familiarity was really rather irritating, in that it seemed as simple as having an awareness of this seeing all the time, to the point that I became a subconscious aching for [something], blossoming into the actual conscious awareness out of the repressive need for something I no longer had and always wanted: [The Festival Project ™] And for for this, I considered it a sort of sickness that I couldn't seem to tear away from it, but also something that had happened very naturally, and now had unearthed an entire cavern of secrets I could be found no where writing or even very rarely thinking them. Thoughts or ideas worth protecting and the kind of code that goes about saying nothing, looking the other way, keeping your mouth shut and hiding or guarding with your life. But media, or the eye that seems to see all lately had been poking at it, maybe because I wasn't. Maybe because I spent an hour at a time four day a week with [a less than separate set of characters] —or big brother, if you will, in a safe and respectable distance and admiration [] Where I could at a certain pace study this sort of programming without anything having to be reflective of the life I wasn't living— the sex I wasn't having. Watching the ABC version of late night programming was allowing me to focus on the other things I needed— being very skinny, and crossing one leg over the other and sitting pretty; while also showing me another side of a suit and tie that was interesting— The ability to be invisible, and also say many things without talking, for anyone paying attention to the complex series of things very often overlooked by a normal onlooker or audience, Which I was, and wasn't— because I was looking for something. The mind boggling thing to me was, by watching, I was actually finding it. [The Festival Project ™] —Death of a Superstar DJ As Seen on TV The Television People “Puzzle Pieces” I don't want anything I don't want anyone Conflated circumstance Oh, it was was just a nut— Got it and now it's gone Pulled it all off at the thought It was Thunderous But now I got it together I don't want anyone Especially not a poor boy No I'm not alone, boy I got my kitty Pet the cat and love my pussy, So it's really not a mystery I don't need him, or anybody really Miss me with that shit That's a pretty promise and a big redaction Deadass I stepped into my ballet shoe And onto shards of glass I guess that's on pointe But off topic Co-ed saunabody shopping I show up at Equinox But only when I want (On proxy) I protect my heart (On God) I don't want nobody really. One one-off on Wall Street, brother Don't bother calling back Don't got my number, Not a problem Not my name Or my address Cause if you did You'd be depressed like I am. Now we're getting dressed You take a cab I take the train Just another day of training But my life. Is steady draining There's no use in even explaining myself I guess I'm selfish Like dental floss for Christmas Or shellfish for the kitty But for me just friuits and veggies You don't notice? I love nobody, Cause nobody could love me Now I'm over it Now I'm over it Now I'm over it But you know the cost I was nothing Now I want Nothing Nobody love me I don't want nobody, No I'm not sorry How they're swarming on my GPS location With these second rate bit glitches I stay sleeping in my kitch But I'll never rest, I guess Until theirs justice Said that. {Enter The Multiverse} Excerpt: The Television People (TVP) Season 4 © The Complex Collevtivd [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights Reserved REGINALD Would you kill your prostitute for one million dollars? PATRICK Why would you ask me that? REGINALD That's an odd answer. I'd expect your response to be somewhere along the lines of denial of— ever having a prostitute. PATRICK I'm a talk show host. REGINALD Is that supposed to mean something? PATRICK There are certain societal assumptions. REGINALD Do you find yourself—befitting to any of those stereotypes? PATRICK I don't find myself “befitting” at all. REGINALD You know, local [charters of our office] — (But Patrick speaks quickly and with dominance to cut him off.) PATRICK Now that I know what you are— REGINALD You mean “who”? PATRICK I mean “what”; why make and owl's cry in response to a dog's bark? [a realization between the both of them is immidiately found; this sort of language has implied they are belonging to the same branch of THE EYE which acts above the law; it is a fair fight— and now they this phrase has been established, there are now rules written or unspoken which can be applied here.] REGINALD cocks his head and forces an awkward smirk. REGINALD Very well. I am quite the trouble maker; I am mischief, I am danger, I am Chaos, I am leveled I am honored, I am damned I am also coming making day of peace and hallowed are you; I am also coming waves of needing peace to which I bound to. So sparrow coming grace and peace and giving, Made and tied, Though had you not the ever presence or the record for the time, So then you too shall wander, mercilessly to and fro and all about, And here and there but never where my value has been gathered. So for that, the dust is set, And said and twisted, never making bread for peace And dead for death, and craving this, to set of force her Having made my honor there, and lying in the wit and willow, weathered veins and weathervane, And twisting wind of fate and fortune. So, my mind and tressure buried there for gains and white, her shadow Barren in the east, and in the west her mortuary; Seeking sane and crypt but tied and kept for thithered foust and fouling, Butter turned to brittle, May, September, Then another serpent— More to moulf and wept her slated dream for keeping broken bear in, There the wake had frozen into lake and also leather boxes, For what will of what I am and is her fare not wearing any; Though the mister winds of east and west had set her onward any. Lemons and limes, though— Taking my time, soured Never with water, sugar But chest without pride; There in the wake marked and marched o. Her army, Not to yawn or buyoer billow, Porridge feathered, Cream and none for part her hunger There though, then were the marks And the found of the wicked past; Ties there and fire would have her mark upon the dungeon throne, Weeping here though on the floor for flour Every hour passed as I, come creeping with the forest feathered, dimmed the basket having cut from tethered grass, I. And now we wait though them, here, The marshmellow and willow not having woken, Though Monday, for total control of her honor, Contorted. Then came, seeking guild and weight and force, The fear and wind though wish to pull apart the storm had gathered, fell apart itself, Though sit not back and then became as strong, a pebble which from dust became an avalanche at once, through windows past, I— Marked one forest, and one warm summer, And one forest, and good quilt, did slither, and then making in the forest, I, for did I run As yet to suffer also. Yo where the fuck am I going. Alright, airtight we want and something foraged from nothing in her name, And this the time that tells itself for life and health In other ways besides your own. Don't cough. For those who either suffering or lost know of your forces and so sure does come the rock that turned from stone in forests over, So you sure too shall come another, Poor and hurt but soon to suffer, Also. tisk- tisk The risk my friends is running wise, The coyotes running wild for find that lone and feathered friend, To which has flight with all the know that he, and friends are feasts of foe and so these might and waves of time are sure to grow into another. Right on. So I write on and then, the missed and uninformed becomes again the death I recommended. Ten till ten tales and also please give, and whistle whalfolks under our time which has lost mine and all others. So tempted there come gathered, weeping Feathers at her slaughtered as palms, Weight beyond the brow and below the belt to which that called her— Devil's mate and crater for the fate but fame at heart earned, casting shadows over which has lost its appetite, for now becalmed her hunger. Her hunger. Her hunger. REGINALD's tone changes entirely— if at first it may have been a playful game (and it wasn't) now it is serious— crucial, even. REGINALD Why did you do it? PATRICK I wouldn't do something like that… REGINALD —something like what? PATRICK realizes quickly he's been playing over in his mind that has not yet fully been realized on the surface of the conversation— it was an honest answer, but still implicit, and so in this moment of self awareness and realization, also of stunning showman and marksmanship, a certain light comes on as if the camera has been directed at him; his entire mask comes on at once, and no longer can the reminisce of an honest thought be detected. He has become a wall. PATRICK To follow up on your first question. Which was odd— REGINALD About killing your prostitute. (He means to intimidate, but PATRICK is a stone.) PATRICK You must not watch my show at all. REGINALD takes a moment to collect himself, with even just the slightest and temporary glimpse of fear in that he may have met his mental match, and has already lost the fight, also collecting his briefcase before he I told you no more trains. At the risk of sounding obnoxious, I've started ignoring all the voices in my head— Even though they're always right. fuck! REGINALD pauses, takes a deep breath while opening the door before looking back over his shoulder. REGINALD I must not. He walks out and immediately slams the door behind him. PATRICK, as if still in the eye of the camera remains calm, although, just the glimmer of fire in his eyes reflect the battle has yet been won. But as we all know by now, He will win the fight. The television people, season four I can't stand these fuckin hoes; Two days off in your hole Offers you a whole new perspective Of your own God complex; You're better off alone, Dead, Or on prescription medicines For all those thoughts in your head Like the bullet holes left from the gun That is poor and alone And just not having money. Confidence lost with a look, And you're sure you just should have gone come But the court office closes its doors at 4:30 And you've been done wrong Four long lost lovers over, It not about that, but motorcycles It's not about reps, It's about cycles I'm one our Peloton down And a whole world to go While you morons just on and on Won't stop talking Here's to disturbing your peace at the equinox And anywhere else you rest your rotten core, You dirty who're— What's it costs for love? Not a whole lot, Don't you see that I'm struggled in Brooklyn? Fuck this whole raw sewage garbage bucket If I gargle hard enough I'll just throw up But you push all the bottles and straws to the end of the curb And the colored sand blacks to the outskirts So we work harder It's a ocean of no But you know not what it does not to know me So below your own suffering goes the call of the crow just before dawn Mx To drop out Cool I don't want to be here I just want a surfboard Apparently it's your year But I'd slit my wrists for Harvard Yeah, it is— that kind of hurt Yes, it is that kind of pain The corvette stole your very favorite colors And your name That sort of wickedness, Just before it ends The candles flickers and the winter's coming in atop the l marble kitchen counters All right, all yours Patched up, or in the poorhouse Compliments to the chef, of course, compliments to the chef. Gotta go to the court house Of course cause I'm black So it's automatically implied I just don't work hard enough Or just ain't made the cut My momma was a dancer, not an athlete My momma made me fat and now I can't do that either If I'm the other black girl In a room full of white men I automatically become “The ugly one” So then I'm off. What's the point of coming here? A black book? A black box? Try to run me off out of the equinox on Walter Well done. I should not have wrote about it Lil bitz My son accused me of being in the Illuminati. He's 9. How do you even respond to that? I love my son, He's like really, really… fat. It's okay— I kinda like it; he's fat, I used to be fat; So we talk about fat people shit. Like McDonald's. And ham. lol This lady on the subway leaned on my hand on the pole. And I mean like really leaned into it, With her whole body weight. I just came from the gym, I been up all night, And she like— Leaned. Like, you know I didn't say shit, I just let it happen, But inside I'm like, WHY ARE YOU TOUCHHING MEEEEEEEEE?!!?!? WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING ME?! This train is not full. I don't think you understand. I just came out the steam room. I am the equivalent of fresh and pressed. Then she's just gon Leeeean. FUCK THAT. STOP TOUCHING MEEEEE. but like irl I'm just standing there like, No protest. Inside: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! STOP IT! Outside: [nothing] Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW

Not even a wisper of collision penetrates explicitly this inclusion; Segmented and represented this disarray of miserable approval, And, abject, Or i object, I guess To that which is to say Today is in between the ordinary and disarray, To make arrangements; A solemn display of effect and intent of regression, And yet without all clear disrespect to port or establishment; Still here are there words and where there was love, no more— none for her but then around, within arousal stands as that, to which has since been lost, If not to time, another concept thus by force unknown, to with and withstand habitat for circumstantial evidence of coincidence, But yet arbitrary and then dismayed for short or arc, There this, no more her words for flower, more of words to thus embark. Still time, Very well, my breath, for I have opened a foreign chapter— Then with the way you say, you wore our out, In time you are uncovered for her drugs and left to smuggle over-under— Therefore when that said time has come, you know to form the drift to wait, And yet lack still this patience I have tamed you many acres since the ancients fell upon there ails; There pitting since sunk and crucial to this, and our time is not lost nor won, disheveled making prayers for sense and dollar signs; No have no more barren chest and thought of songs, much less a found the words for songs as though my love has crept upon the rock, That dusk and dawn, the ocean licks with parched tongue. Scare her dry and feast and fragile and evidence remained as these as words and thoughts, The truths would tell the tale for every way. With each drift scattered mark, upon those boats with sails above known not as white but also many colors of the brethren cut from clothes of all apart and none of one, for this, her maritime. {Enter The Multiverse} I opened right to Debbie downer; I got medicine for your habit (I got the remedy in the form of a secret, But the misery is in keeping it) I got a kind heart, I did some mai tai, Should have learned some thai chi As if I took some matcha Or chai tea Caffeine Adrenaline I got a kind heart Adderall instead of Ritalin Entry level access Salary yellow fashion, Intercept, invest Inception, redirect Service elevator, eh; She don't live here no more But where she is? Couldn't tell you. What's the story On a ten star war. No more Harvard, Purple hearted general, General admission to a festival? Just miss me that that bullshit. For your pleasure, Every crevice just has pressure in it— Now I get it I hypnotized myself, I guess The ribbon Blue belt I should be cleaning instead of half sleeping; I keep explaining myself thinking somebody can hear me When they obviously can't. I've been screaming silently for seven seconds, Several years I think on other planets Pull your hair back in a bun And then you'll learn, I guess I passed out cold upon the stand That was the plan, I guess Much slower to close than to open, Although, I know I pop-button broke the code before But still no low moral summoning (Sorry, product) Still no low road or mud throwing No more home She's 32 and 3 months older But looks much longer And harder, tired Must have body or Motive Must have body Or bad intentions Take a man, and write a book about it Take a man, and write a book about it I call that a thirst trap I call that a thirst trap. She must no longer Prim and proper But the work is never over, Show us all the roots, and know the knowledge But don't talk or comment on it I was “almost” once And I was honest twice Three times, you're a liar Mister, honor, pleasure, Fisher wife And never leather, Tipping tethered, Tied to rock and kite And lock and key For here and there Forbearance, rather Here for never ever after Amen and then some L E G E N D S I told you Jimmy Fallon was a Skrillex. I know. What's worse: Skrillex is a Jimmy Fallon. Oh, that is worse. yO iT iS pRoGrEsSiVeLy WOrSE: Is this what you wanted? The awful destruction of constructs— Click, boom— Knife, gun, Add an axe, Bind the axel, Excellent, Put the prejudice inside your head ahead (We brought it back) Put the Edipus complex To this effect Upon a platter Silver as the gun at stake, And raise the hand that shouldn't matter After that? You won. Four tries; Six goons, Four Gods, One white ther I have Two white coats and misters, hot coals Dark fires, have ones, Six mazes, one center On your mark “The Dark Forest” Ugh I hate this one, Get set Don't forget, we all died here. We all crisis, We all Christ. Goosebumps, right? Gimmie that kite! You dumb son of a bitch! GO! Check it out! I look like Kim Kardashian. But you smell like Kim Chi. Yooo that joke took me like 2 months to write down! I know huh! [The Festival Project ™] I looked for something on Hulu to watch for so long that I almost ate my entire dinner without clicking on something. Finally, I find something that interests me, which is just a graphic of a television set and some color palette by now that is somewhat of a calling card for me. So I get there, And it is of interests, And yet of course the unexplainable anomaly of this, is that, no matter how far I try to run l He just keeps coming back. ‘Like this is crazy.' I never found myself agreeing with Louis C.K. about anything at all, and personally and particularly, I never found him funny, until, that was the sudden realization that the same array of betrayal, anger, and agony fueled by rage and jealousy had taken over he and I and many others probably, when introduced to the possibility of having to share the same reality with a head of hair and a face like that. I might have mustered a “my sentiments exactly” though silently before taking in to my own wonder and amazement that twice in one week, besides skipping over the algorithmic traps in my sidebar which I treated like little land mines or time bombs, but mostly allotted to my own Internet history of my uninhabited viewing, as it seemed I'd been most preoccupied in rerouting this energy into a fascination with TV programming, giving me the satiety for the comfort and familiarity in something; and I was with some some kind of certainty I knew alluded to the old adage of mother knowing everything. Even if everything hadn't happened yet, actually, or maybe it had. This strange sort of desire however was some sort of weakness, with the ability to have a fixation for a desire without any way of actually getting it. As she used to say. “Having champagne taste, but beer money.” [so I avoid it because it makes me angry.] Sometimes even, tearfully angry, and it made me feel so uncontrollably adolescent that I would have equated it to the hysteria of beetlemania; screaming and clawing and aching and chasing for this being that was so notably out of reach. Worse off, I'd realized in this running from what seemed was chasing me was how common I was in this feeling, [] To my demise. In this sense, the safety of this entire being and any alike, was that I could seek logic in my jealousy by rationalizing not attaching to a certain subject sexually or otherwise. But this basis in the contempt of familiarity was really rather irritating, in that it seemed as simple as having an awareness of this seeing all the time, to the point that I became a subconscious aching for [something], blossoming into the actual conscious awareness out of the repressive need for something I no longer had and always wanted: [The Festival Project ™] And for for this, I considered it a sort of sickness that I couldn't seem to tear away from it, but also something that had happened very naturally, and now had unearthed an entire cavern of secrets I could be found no where writing or even very rarely thinking them. Thoughts or ideas worth protecting and the kind of code that goes about saying nothing, looking the other way, keeping your mouth shut and hiding or guarding with your life. But media, or the eye that seems to see all lately had been poking at it, maybe because I wasn't. Maybe because I spent an hour at a time four day a week with [a less than separate set of characters] —or big brother, if you will, in a safe and respectable distance and admiration [] Where I could at a certain pace study this sort of programming without anything having to be reflective of the life I wasn't living— the sex I wasn't having. Watching the ABC version of late night programming was allowing me to focus on the other things I needed— being very skinny, and crossing one leg over the other and sitting pretty; while also showing me another side of a suit and tie that was interesting— The ability to be invisible, and also say many things without talking, for anyone paying attention to the complex series of things very often overlooked by a normal onlooker or audience, Which I was, and wasn't— because I was looking for something. The mind boggling thing to me was, by watching, I was actually finding it. [The Festival Project ™] —Death of a Superstar DJ As Seen on TV The Television People “Puzzle Pieces” I don't want anything I don't want anyone Conflated circumstance Oh, it was was just a nut— Got it and now it's gone Pulled it all off at the thought It was Thunderous But now I got it together I don't want anyone Especially not a poor boy No I'm not alone, boy I got my kitty Pet the cat and love my pussy, So it's really not a mystery I don't need him, or anybody really Miss me with that shit That's a pretty promise and a big redaction Deadass I stepped into my ballet shoe And onto shards of glass I guess that's on pointe But off topic Co-ed saunabody shopping I show up at Equinox But only when I want (On proxy) I protect my heart (On God) I don't want nobody really. One one-off on Wall Street, brother Don't bother calling back Don't got my number, Not a problem Not my name Or my address Cause if you did You'd be depressed like I am. Now we're getting dressed You take a cab I take the train Just another day of training But my life. Is steady draining There's no use in even explaining myself I guess I'm selfish Like dental floss for Christmas Or shellfish for the kitty But for me just friuits and veggies You don't notice? I love nobody, Cause nobody could love me Now I'm over it Now I'm over it Now I'm over it But you know the cost I was nothing Now I want Nothing Nobody love me I don't want nobody, No I'm not sorry How they're swarming on my GPS location With these second rate bit glitches I stay sleeping in my kitch But I'll never rest, I guess Until theirs justice Said that. {Enter The Multiverse} Excerpt: The Television People (TVP) Season 4 © The Complex Collevtivd [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights Reserved REGINALD Would you kill your prostitute for one million dollars? PATRICK Why would you ask me that? REGINALD That's an odd answer. I'd expect your response to be somewhere along the lines of denial of— ever having a prostitute. PATRICK I'm a talk show host. REGINALD Is that supposed to mean something? PATRICK There are certain societal assumptions. REGINALD Do you find yourself—befitting to any of those stereotypes? PATRICK I don't find myself “befitting” at all. REGINALD You know, local [charters of our office] — (But Patrick speaks quickly and with dominance to cut him off.) PATRICK Now that I know what you are— REGINALD You mean “who”? PATRICK I mean “what”; why make and owl's cry in response to a dog's bark? [a realization between the both of them is immidiately found; this sort of language has implied they are belonging to the same branch of THE EYE which acts above the law; it is a fair fight— and now they this phrase has been established, there are now rules written or unspoken which can be applied here.] REGINALD cocks his head and forces an awkward smirk. REGINALD Very well. I am quite the trouble maker; I am mischief, I am danger, I am Chaos, I am leveled I am honored, I am damned I am also coming making day of peace and hallowed are you; I am also coming waves of needing peace to which I bound to. So sparrow coming grace and peace and giving, Made and tied, Though had you not the ever presence or the record for the time, So then you too shall wander, mercilessly to and fro and all about, And here and there but never where my value has been gathered. So for that, the dust is set, And said and twisted, never making bread for peace And dead for death, and craving this, to set of force her Having made my honor there, and lying in the wit and willow, weathered veins and weathervane, And twisting wind of fate and fortune. So, my mind and tressure buried there for gains and white, her shadow Barren in the east, and in the west her mortuary; Seeking sane and crypt but tied and kept for thithered foust and fouling, Butter turned to brittle, May, September, Then another serpent— More to moulf and wept her slated dream for keeping broken bear in, There the wake had frozen into lake and also leather boxes, For what will of what I am and is her fare not wearing any; Though the mister winds of east and west had set her onward any. Lemons and limes, though— Taking my time, soured Never with water, sugar But chest without pride; There in the wake marked and marched o. Her army, Not to yawn or buyoer billow, Porridge feathered, Cream and none for part her hunger There though, then were the marks And the found of the wicked past; Ties there and fire would have her mark upon the dungeon throne, Weeping here though on the floor for flour Every hour passed as I, come creeping with the forest feathered, dimmed the basket having cut from tethered grass, I. And now we wait though them, here, The marshmellow and willow not having woken, Though Monday, for total control of her honor, Contorted. Then came, seeking guild and weight and force, The fear and wind though wish to pull apart the storm had gathered, fell apart itself, Though sit not back and then became as strong, a pebble which from dust became an avalanche at once, through windows past, I— Marked one forest, and one warm summer, And one forest, and good quilt, did slither, and then making in the forest, I, for did I run As yet to suffer also. Yo where the fuck am I going. Alright, airtight we want and something foraged from nothing in her name, And this the time that tells itself for life and health In other ways besides your own. Don't cough. For those who either suffering or lost know of your forces and so sure does come the rock that turned from stone in forests over, So you sure too shall come another, Poor and hurt but soon to suffer, Also. tisk- tisk The risk my friends is running wise, The coyotes running wild for find that lone and feathered friend, To which has flight with all the know that he, and friends are feasts of foe and so these might and waves of time are sure to grow into another. Right on. So I write on and then, the missed and uninformed becomes again the death I recommended. Ten till ten tales and also please give, and whistle whalfolks under our time which has lost mine and all others. So tempted there come gathered, weeping Feathers at her slaughtered as palms, Weight beyond the brow and below the belt to which that called her— Devil's mate and crater for the fate but fame at heart earned, casting shadows over which has lost its appetite, for now becalmed her hunger. Her hunger. Her hunger. REGINALD's tone changes entirely— if at first it may have been a playful game (and it wasn't) now it is serious— crucial, even. REGINALD Why did you do it? PATRICK I wouldn't do something like that… REGINALD —something like what? PATRICK realizes quickly he's been playing over in his mind that has not yet fully been realized on the surface of the conversation— it was an honest answer, but still implicit, and so in this moment of self awareness and realization, also of stunning showman and marksmanship, a certain light comes on as if the camera has been directed at him; his entire mask comes on at once, and no longer can the reminisce of an honest thought be detected. He has become a wall. PATRICK To follow up on your first question. Which was odd— REGINALD About killing your prostitute. (He means to intimidate, but PATRICK is a stone.) PATRICK You must not watch my show at all. REGINALD takes a moment to collect himself, with even just the slightest and temporary glimpse of fear in that he may have met his mental match, and has already lost the fight, also collecting his briefcase before he I told you no more trains. At the risk of sounding obnoxious, I've started ignoring all the voices in my head— Even though they're always right. fuck! REGINALD pauses, takes a deep breath while opening the door before looking back over his shoulder. REGINALD I must not. He walks out and immediately slams the door behind him. PATRICK, as if still in the eye of the camera remains calm, although, just the glimmer of fire in his eyes reflect the battle has yet been won. But as we all know by now, He will win the fight. The television people, season four I can't stand these fuckin hoes; Two days off in your hole Offers you a whole new perspective Of your own God complex; You're better off alone, Dead, Or on prescription medicines For all those thoughts in your head Like the bullet holes left from the gun That is poor and alone And just not having money. Confidence lost with a look, And you're sure you just should have gone come But the court office closes its doors at 4:30 And you've been done wrong Four long lost lovers over, It not about that, but motorcycles It's not about reps, It's about cycles I'm one our Peloton down And a whole world to go While you morons just on and on Won't stop talking Here's to disturbing your peace at the equinox And anywhere else you rest your rotten core, You dirty who're— What's it costs for love? Not a whole lot, Don't you see that I'm struggled in Brooklyn? Fuck this whole raw sewage garbage bucket If I gargle hard enough I'll just throw up But you push all the bottles and straws to the end of the curb And the colored sand blacks to the outskirts So we work harder It's a ocean of no But you know not what it does not to know me So below your own suffering goes the call of the crow just before dawn Mx To drop out Cool I don't want to be here I just want a surfboard Apparently it's your year But I'd slit my wrists for Harvard Yeah, it is— that kind of hurt Yes, it is that kind of pain The corvette stole your very favorite colors And your name That sort of wickedness, Just before it ends The candles flickers and the winter's coming in atop the l marble kitchen counters All right, all yours Patched up, or in the poorhouse Compliments to the chef, of course, compliments to the chef. Gotta go to the court house Of course cause I'm black So it's automatically implied I just don't work hard enough Or just ain't made the cut My momma was a dancer, not an athlete My momma made me fat and now I can't do that either If I'm the other black girl In a room full of white men I automatically become “The ugly one” So then I'm off. What's the point of coming here? A black book? A black box? Try to run me off out of the equinox on Walter Well done. I should not have wrote about it Lil bitz My son accused me of being in the Illuminati. He's 9. How do you even respond to that? I love my son, He's like really, really… fat. It's okay— I kinda like it; he's fat, I used to be fat; So we talk about fat people shit. Like McDonald's. And ham. lol This lady on the subway leaned on my hand on the pole. And I mean like really leaned into it, With her whole body weight. I just came from the gym, I been up all night, And she like— Leaned. Like, you know I didn't say shit, I just let it happen, But inside I'm like, WHY ARE YOU TOUCHHING MEEEEEEEEE?!!?!? WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING ME?! This train is not full. I don't think you understand. I just came out the steam room. I am the equivalent of fresh and pressed. Then she's just gon Leeeean. FUCK THAT. STOP TOUCHING MEEEEE. but like irl I'm just standing there like, No protest. Inside: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! STOP IT! Outside: [nothing] Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW

Not even a wisper of collision penetrates explicitly this inclusion; Segmented and represented this disarray of miserable approval, And, abject, Or i object, I guess To that which is to say Today is in between the ordinary and disarray, To make arrangements; A solemn display of effect and intent of regression, And yet without all clear disrespect to port or establishment; Still here are there words and where there was love, no more— none for her but then around, within arousal stands as that, to which has since been lost, If not to time, another concept thus by force unknown, to with and withstand habitat for circumstantial evidence of coincidence, But yet arbitrary and then dismayed for short or arc, There this, no more her words for flower, more of words to thus embark. Still time, Very well, my breath, for I have opened a foreign chapter— Then with the way you say, you wore our out, In time you are uncovered for her drugs and left to smuggle over-under— Therefore when that said time has come, you know to form the drift to wait, And yet lack still this patience I have tamed you many acres since the ancients fell upon there ails; There pitting since sunk and crucial to this, and our time is not lost nor won, disheveled making prayers for sense and dollar signs; No have no more barren chest and thought of songs, much less a found the words for songs as though my love has crept upon the rock, That dusk and dawn, the ocean licks with parched tongue. Scare her dry and feast and fragile and evidence remained as these as words and thoughts, The truths would tell the tale for every way. With each drift scattered mark, upon those boats with sails above known not as white but also many colors of the brethren cut from clothes of all apart and none of one, for this, her maritime. {Enter The Multiverse} I opened right to Debbie downer; I got medicine for your habit (I got the remedy in the form of a secret, But the misery is in keeping it) I got a kind heart, I did some mai tai, Should have learned some thai chi As if I took some matcha Or chai tea Caffeine Adrenaline I got a kind heart Adderall instead of Ritalin Entry level access Salary yellow fashion, Intercept, invest Inception, redirect Service elevator, eh; She don't live here no more But where she is? Couldn't tell you. What's the story On a ten star war. No more Harvard, Purple hearted general, General admission to a festival? Just miss me that that bullshit. For your pleasure, Every crevice just has pressure in it— Now I get it I hypnotized myself, I guess The ribbon Blue belt I should be cleaning instead of half sleeping; I keep explaining myself thinking somebody can hear me When they obviously can't. I've been screaming silently for seven seconds, Several years I think on other planets Pull your hair back in a bun And then you'll learn, I guess I passed out cold upon the stand That was the plan, I guess Much slower to close than to open, Although, I know I pop-button broke the code before But still no low moral summoning (Sorry, product) Still no low road or mud throwing No more home She's 32 and 3 months older But looks much longer And harder, tired Must have body or Motive Must have body Or bad intentions Take a man, and write a book about it Take a man, and write a book about it I call that a thirst trap I call that a thirst trap. She must no longer Prim and proper But the work is never over, Show us all the roots, and know the knowledge But don't talk or comment on it I was “almost” once And I was honest twice Three times, you're a liar Mister, honor, pleasure, Fisher wife And never leather, Tipping tethered, Tied to rock and kite And lock and key For here and there Forbearance, rather Here for never ever after Amen and then some L E G E N D S I told you Jimmy Fallon was a Skrillex. I know. What's worse: Skrillex is a Jimmy Fallon. Oh, that is worse. yO iT iS pRoGrEsSiVeLy WOrSE: Is this what you wanted? The awful destruction of constructs— Click, boom— Knife, gun, Add an axe, Bind the axel, Excellent, Put the prejudice inside your head ahead (We brought it back) Put the Edipus complex To this effect Upon a platter Silver as the gun at stake, And raise the hand that shouldn't matter After that? You won. Four tries; Six goons, Four Gods, One white ther I have Two white coats and misters, hot coals Dark fires, have ones, Six mazes, one center On your mark “The Dark Forest” Ugh I hate this one, Get set Don't forget, we all died here. We all crisis, We all Christ. Goosebumps, right? Gimmie that kite! You dumb son of a bitch! GO! Check it out! I look like Kim Kardashian. But you smell like Kim Chi. Yooo that joke took me like 2 months to write down! I know huh! [The Festival Project ™] I looked for something on Hulu to watch for so long that I almost ate my entire dinner without clicking on something. Finally, I find something that interests me, which is just a graphic of a television set and some color palette by now that is somewhat of a calling card for me. So I get there, And it is of interests, And yet of course the unexplainable anomaly of this, is that, no matter how far I try to run l He just keeps coming back. ‘Like this is crazy.' I never found myself agreeing with Louis C.K. about anything at all, and personally and particularly, I never found him funny, until, that was the sudden realization that the same array of betrayal, anger, and agony fueled by rage and jealousy had taken over he and I and many others probably, when introduced to the possibility of having to share the same reality with a head of hair and a face like that. I might have mustered a “my sentiments exactly” though silently before taking in to my own wonder and amazement that twice in one week, besides skipping over the algorithmic traps in my sidebar which I treated like little land mines or time bombs, but mostly allotted to my own Internet history of my uninhabited viewing, as it seemed I'd been most preoccupied in rerouting this energy into a fascination with TV programming, giving me the satiety for the comfort and familiarity in something; and I was with some some kind of certainty I knew alluded to the old adage of mother knowing everything. Even if everything hadn't happened yet, actually, or maybe it had. This strange sort of desire however was some sort of weakness, with the ability to have a fixation for a desire without any way of actually getting it. As she used to say. “Having champagne taste, but beer money.” [so I avoid it because it makes me angry.] Sometimes even, tearfully angry, and it made me feel so uncontrollably adolescent that I would have equated it to the hysteria of beetlemania; screaming and clawing and aching and chasing for this being that was so notably out of reach. Worse off, I'd realized in this running from what seemed was chasing me was how common I was in this feeling, [] To my demise. In this sense, the safety of this entire being and any alike, was that I could seek logic in my jealousy by rationalizing not attaching to a certain subject sexually or otherwise. But this basis in the contempt of familiarity was really rather irritating, in that it seemed as simple as having an awareness of this seeing all the time, to the point that I became a subconscious aching for [something], blossoming into the actual conscious awareness out of the repressive need for something I no longer had and always wanted: [The Festival Project ™] And for for this, I considered it a sort of sickness that I couldn't seem to tear away from it, but also something that had happened very naturally, and now had unearthed an entire cavern of secrets I could be found no where writing or even very rarely thinking them. Thoughts or ideas worth protecting and the kind of code that goes about saying nothing, looking the other way, keeping your mouth shut and hiding or guarding with your life. But media, or the eye that seems to see all lately had been poking at it, maybe because I wasn't. Maybe because I spent an hour at a time four day a week with [a less than separate set of characters] —or big brother, if you will, in a safe and respectable distance and admiration [] Where I could at a certain pace study this sort of programming without anything having to be reflective of the life I wasn't living— the sex I wasn't having. Watching the ABC version of late night programming was allowing me to focus on the other things I needed— being very skinny, and crossing one leg over the other and sitting pretty; while also showing me another side of a suit and tie that was interesting— The ability to be invisible, and also say many things without talking, for anyone paying attention to the complex series of things very often overlooked by a normal onlooker or audience, Which I was, and wasn't— because I was looking for something. The mind boggling thing to me was, by watching, I was actually finding it. [The Festival Project ™] —Death of a Superstar DJ As Seen on TV The Television People “Puzzle Pieces” I don't want anything I don't want anyone Conflated circumstance Oh, it was was just a nut— Got it and now it's gone Pulled it all off at the thought It was Thunderous But now I got it together I don't want anyone Especially not a poor boy No I'm not alone, boy I got my kitty Pet the cat and love my pussy, So it's really not a mystery I don't need him, or anybody really Miss me with that shit That's a pretty promise and a big redaction Deadass I stepped into my ballet shoe And onto shards of glass I guess that's on pointe But off topic Co-ed saunabody shopping I show up at Equinox But only when I want (On proxy) I protect my heart (On God) I don't want nobody really. One one-off on Wall Street, brother Don't bother calling back Don't got my number, Not a problem Not my name Or my address Cause if you did You'd be depressed like I am. Now we're getting dressed You take a cab I take the train Just another day of training But my life. Is steady draining There's no use in even explaining myself I guess I'm selfish Like dental floss for Christmas Or shellfish for the kitty But for me just friuits and veggies You don't notice? I love nobody, Cause nobody could love me Now I'm over it Now I'm over it Now I'm over it But you know the cost I was nothing Now I want Nothing Nobody love me I don't want nobody, No I'm not sorry How they're swarming on my GPS location With these second rate bit glitches I stay sleeping in my kitch But I'll never rest, I guess Until theirs justice Said that. {Enter The Multiverse} Excerpt: The Television People (TVP) Season 4 © The Complex Collevtivd [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights Reserved REGINALD Would you kill your prostitute for one million dollars? PATRICK Why would you ask me that? REGINALD That's an odd answer. I'd expect your response to be somewhere along the lines of denial of— ever having a prostitute. PATRICK I'm a talk show host. REGINALD Is that supposed to mean something? PATRICK There are certain societal assumptions. REGINALD Do you find yourself—befitting to any of those stereotypes? PATRICK I don't find myself “befitting” at all. REGINALD You know, local [charters of our office] — (But Patrick speaks quickly and with dominance to cut him off.) PATRICK Now that I know what you are— REGINALD You mean “who”? PATRICK I mean “what”; why make and owl's cry in response to a dog's bark? [a realization between the both of them is immidiately found; this sort of language has implied they are belonging to the same branch of THE EYE which acts above the law; it is a fair fight— and now they this phrase has been established, there are now rules written or unspoken which can be applied here.] REGINALD cocks his head and forces an awkward smirk. REGINALD Very well. I am quite the trouble maker; I am mischief, I am danger, I am Chaos, I am leveled I am honored, I am damned I am also coming making day of peace and hallowed are you; I am also coming waves of needing peace to which I bound to. So sparrow coming grace and peace and giving, Made and tied, Though had you not the ever presence or the record for the time, So then you too shall wander, mercilessly to and fro and all about, And here and there but never where my value has been gathered. So for that, the dust is set, And said and twisted, never making bread for peace And dead for death, and craving this, to set of force her Having made my honor there, and lying in the wit and willow, weathered veins and weathervane, And twisting wind of fate and fortune. So, my mind and tressure buried there for gains and white, her shadow Barren in the east, and in the west her mortuary; Seeking sane and crypt but tied and kept for thithered foust and fouling, Butter turned to brittle, May, September, Then another serpent— More to moulf and wept her slated dream for keeping broken bear in, There the wake had frozen into lake and also leather boxes, For what will of what I am and is her fare not wearing any; Though the mister winds of east and west had set her onward any. Lemons and limes, though— Taking my time, soured Never with water, sugar But chest without pride; There in the wake marked and marched o. Her army, Not to yawn or buyoer billow, Porridge feathered, Cream and none for part her hunger There though, then were the marks And the found of the wicked past; Ties there and fire would have her mark upon the dungeon throne, Weeping here though on the floor for flour Every hour passed as I, come creeping with the forest feathered, dimmed the basket having cut from tethered grass, I. And now we wait though them, here, The marshmellow and willow not having woken, Though Monday, for total control of her honor, Contorted. Then came, seeking guild and weight and force, The fear and wind though wish to pull apart the storm had gathered, fell apart itself, Though sit not back and then became as strong, a pebble which from dust became an avalanche at once, through windows past, I— Marked one forest, and one warm summer, And one forest, and good quilt, did slither, and then making in the forest, I, for did I run As yet to suffer also. Yo where the fuck am I going. Alright, airtight we want and something foraged from nothing in her name, And this the time that tells itself for life and health In other ways besides your own. Don't cough. For those who either suffering or lost know of your forces and so sure does come the rock that turned from stone in forests over, So you sure too shall come another, Poor and hurt but soon to suffer, Also. tisk- tisk The risk my friends is running wise, The coyotes running wild for find that lone and feathered friend, To which has flight with all the know that he, and friends are feasts of foe and so these might and waves of time are sure to grow into another. Right on. So I write on and then, the missed and uninformed becomes again the death I recommended. Ten till ten tales and also please give, and whistle whalfolks under our time which has lost mine and all others. So tempted there come gathered, weeping Feathers at her slaughtered as palms, Weight beyond the brow and below the belt to which that called her— Devil's mate and crater for the fate but fame at heart earned, casting shadows over which has lost its appetite, for now becalmed her hunger. Her hunger. Her hunger. REGINALD's tone changes entirely— if at first it may have been a playful game (and it wasn't) now it is serious— crucial, even. REGINALD Why did you do it? PATRICK I wouldn't do something like that… REGINALD —something like what? PATRICK realizes quickly he's been playing over in his mind that has not yet fully been realized on the surface of the conversation— it was an honest answer, but still implicit, and so in this moment of self awareness and realization, also of stunning showman and marksmanship, a certain light comes on as if the camera has been directed at him; his entire mask comes on at once, and no longer can the reminisce of an honest thought be detected. He has become a wall. PATRICK To follow up on your first question. Which was odd— REGINALD About killing your prostitute. (He means to intimidate, but PATRICK is a stone.) PATRICK You must not watch my show at all. REGINALD takes a moment to collect himself, with even just the slightest and temporary glimpse of fear in that he may have met his mental match, and has already lost the fight, also collecting his briefcase before he I told you no more trains. At the risk of sounding obnoxious, I've started ignoring all the voices in my head— Even though they're always right. fuck! REGINALD pauses, takes a deep breath while opening the door before looking back over his shoulder. REGINALD I must not. He walks out and immediately slams the door behind him. PATRICK, as if still in the eye of the camera remains calm, although, just the glimmer of fire in his eyes reflect the battle has yet been won. But as we all know by now, He will win the fight. The television people, season four I can't stand these fuckin hoes; Two days off in your hole Offers you a whole new perspective Of your own God complex; You're better off alone, Dead, Or on prescription medicines For all those thoughts in your head Like the bullet holes left from the gun That is poor and alone And just not having money. Confidence lost with a look, And you're sure you just should have gone come But the court office closes its doors at 4:30 And you've been done wrong Four long lost lovers over, It not about that, but motorcycles It's not about reps, It's about cycles I'm one our Peloton down And a whole world to go While you morons just on and on Won't stop talking Here's to disturbing your peace at the equinox And anywhere else you rest your rotten core, You dirty who're— What's it costs for love? Not a whole lot, Don't you see that I'm struggled in Brooklyn? Fuck this whole raw sewage garbage bucket If I gargle hard enough I'll just throw up But you push all the bottles and straws to the end of the curb And the colored sand blacks to the outskirts So we work harder It's a ocean of no But you know not what it does not to know me So below your own suffering goes the call of the crow just before dawn Mx To drop out Cool I don't want to be here I just want a surfboard Apparently it's your year But I'd slit my wrists for Harvard Yeah, it is— that kind of hurt Yes, it is that kind of pain The corvette stole your very favorite colors And your name That sort of wickedness, Just before it ends The candles flickers and the winter's coming in atop the l marble kitchen counters All right, all yours Patched up, or in the poorhouse Compliments to the chef, of course, compliments to the chef. Gotta go to the court house Of course cause I'm black So it's automatically implied I just don't work hard enough Or just ain't made the cut My momma was a dancer, not an athlete My momma made me fat and now I can't do that either If I'm the other black girl In a room full of white men I automatically become “The ugly one” So then I'm off. What's the point of coming here? A black book? A black box? Try to run me off out of the equinox on Walter Well done. I should not have wrote about it Lil bitz My son accused me of being in the Illuminati. He's 9. How do you even respond to that? I love my son, He's like really, really… fat. It's okay— I kinda like it; he's fat, I used to be fat; So we talk about fat people shit. Like McDonald's. And ham. lol This lady on the subway leaned on my hand on the pole. And I mean like really leaned into it, With her whole body weight. I just came from the gym, I been up all night, And she like— Leaned. Like, you know I didn't say shit, I just let it happen, But inside I'm like, WHY ARE YOU TOUCHHING MEEEEEEEEE?!!?!? WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING ME?! This train is not full. I don't think you understand. I just came out the steam room. I am the equivalent of fresh and pressed. Then she's just gon Leeeean. FUCK THAT. STOP TOUCHING MEEEEE. but like irl I'm just standing there like, No protest. Inside: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! STOP IT! Outside: [nothing] Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW

Not even a wisper of collision penetrates explicitly this inclusion; Segmented and represented this disarray of miserable approval, And, abject, Or i object, I guess To that which is to say Today is in between the ordinary and disarray, To make arrangements; A solemn display of effect and intent of regression, And yet without all clear disrespect to port or establishment; Still here are there words and where there was love, no more— none for her but then around, within arousal stands as that, to which has since been lost, If not to time, another concept thus by force unknown, to with and withstand habitat for circumstantial evidence of coincidence, But yet arbitrary and then dismayed for short or arc, There this, no more her words for flower, more of words to thus embark. Still time, Very well, my breath, for I have opened a foreign chapter— Then with the way you say, you wore our out, In time you are uncovered for her drugs and left to smuggle over-under— Therefore when that said time has come, you know to form the drift to wait, And yet lack still this patience I have tamed you many acres since the ancients fell upon there ails; There pitting since sunk and crucial to this, and our time is not lost nor won, disheveled making prayers for sense and dollar signs; No have no more barren chest and thought of songs, much less a found the words for songs as though my love has crept upon the rock, That dusk and dawn, the ocean licks with parched tongue. Scare her dry and feast and fragile and evidence remained as these as words and thoughts, The truths would tell the tale for every way. With each drift scattered mark, upon those boats with sails above known not as white but also many colors of the brethren cut from clothes of all apart and none of one, for this, her maritime. {Enter The Multiverse} I opened right to Debbie downer; I got medicine for your habit (I got the remedy in the form of a secret, But the misery is in keeping it) I got a kind heart, I did some mai tai, Should have learned some thai chi As if I took some matcha Or chai tea Caffeine Adrenaline I got a kind heart Adderall instead of Ritalin Entry level access Salary yellow fashion, Intercept, invest Inception, redirect Service elevator, eh; She don't live here no more But where she is? Couldn't tell you. What's the story On a ten star war. No more Harvard, Purple hearted general, General admission to a festival? Just miss me that that bullshit. For your pleasure, Every crevice just has pressure in it— Now I get it I hypnotized myself, I guess The ribbon Blue belt I should be cleaning instead of half sleeping; I keep explaining myself thinking somebody can hear me When they obviously can't. I've been screaming silently for seven seconds, Several years I think on other planets Pull your hair back in a bun And then you'll learn, I guess I passed out cold upon the stand That was the plan, I guess Much slower to close than to open, Although, I know I pop-button broke the code before But still no low moral summoning (Sorry, product) Still no low road or mud throwing No more home She's 32 and 3 months older But looks much longer And harder, tired Must have body or Motive Must have body Or bad intentions Take a man, and write a book about it Take a man, and write a book about it I call that a thirst trap I call that a thirst trap. She must no longer Prim and proper But the work is never over, Show us all the roots, and know the knowledge But don't talk or comment on it I was “almost” once And I was honest twice Three times, you're a liar Mister, honor, pleasure, Fisher wife And never leather, Tipping tethered, Tied to rock and kite And lock and key For here and there Forbearance, rather Here for never ever after Amen and then some L E G E N D S I told you Jimmy Fallon was a Skrillex. I know. What's worse: Skrillex is a Jimmy Fallon. Oh, that is worse. yO iT iS pRoGrEsSiVeLy WOrSE: Is this what you wanted? The awful destruction of constructs— Click, boom— Knife, gun, Add an axe, Bind the axel, Excellent, Put the prejudice inside your head ahead (We brought it back) Put the Edipus complex To this effect Upon a platter Silver as the gun at stake, And raise the hand that shouldn't matter After that? You won. Four tries; Six goons, Four Gods, One white ther I have Two white coats and misters, hot coals Dark fires, have ones, Six mazes, one center On your mark “The Dark Forest” Ugh I hate this one, Get set Don't forget, we all died here. We all crisis, We all Christ. Goosebumps, right? Gimmie that kite! You dumb son of a bitch! GO! Check it out! I look like Kim Kardashian. But you smell like Kim Chi. Yooo that joke took me like 2 months to write down! I know huh! [The Festival Project ™] I looked for something on Hulu to watch for so long that I almost ate my entire dinner without clicking on something. Finally, I find something that interests me, which is just a graphic of a television set and some color palette by now that is somewhat of a calling card for me. So I get there, And it is of interests, And yet of course the unexplainable anomaly of this, is that, no matter how far I try to run l He just keeps coming back. ‘Like this is crazy.' I never found myself agreeing with Louis C.K. about anything at all, and personally and particularly, I never found him funny, until, that was the sudden realization that the same array of betrayal, anger, and agony fueled by rage and jealousy had taken over he and I and many others probably, when introduced to the possibility of having to share the same reality with a head of hair and a face like that. I might have mustered a “my sentiments exactly” though silently before taking in to my own wonder and amazement that twice in one week, besides skipping over the algorithmic traps in my sidebar which I treated like little land mines or time bombs, but mostly allotted to my own Internet history of my uninhabited viewing, as it seemed I'd been most preoccupied in rerouting this energy into a fascination with TV programming, giving me the satiety for the comfort and familiarity in something; and I was with some some kind of certainty I knew alluded to the old adage of mother knowing everything. Even if everything hadn't happened yet, actually, or maybe it had. This strange sort of desire however was some sort of weakness, with the ability to have a fixation for a desire without any way of actually getting it. As she used to say. “Having champagne taste, but beer money.” [so I avoid it because it makes me angry.] Sometimes even, tearfully angry, and it made me feel so uncontrollably adolescent that I would have equated it to the hysteria of beetlemania; screaming and clawing and aching and chasing for this being that was so notably out of reach. Worse off, I'd realized in this running from what seemed was chasing me was how common I was in this feeling, [] To my demise. In this sense, the safety of this entire being and any alike, was that I could seek logic in my jealousy by rationalizing not attaching to a certain subject sexually or otherwise. But this basis in the contempt of familiarity was really rather irritating, in that it seemed as simple as having an awareness of this seeing all the time, to the point that I became a subconscious aching for [something], blossoming into the actual conscious awareness out of the repressive need for something I no longer had and always wanted: [The Festival Project ™] And for for this, I considered it a sort of sickness that I couldn't seem to tear away from it, but also something that had happened very naturally, and now had unearthed an entire cavern of secrets I could be found no where writing or even very rarely thinking them. Thoughts or ideas worth protecting and the kind of code that goes about saying nothing, looking the other way, keeping your mouth shut and hiding or guarding with your life. But media, or the eye that seems to see all lately had been poking at it, maybe because I wasn't. Maybe because I spent an hour at a time four day a week with [a less than separate set of characters] —or big brother, if you will, in a safe and respectable distance and admiration [] Where I could at a certain pace study this sort of programming without anything having to be reflective of the life I wasn't living— the sex I wasn't having. Watching the ABC version of late night programming was allowing me to focus on the other things I needed— being very skinny, and crossing one leg over the other and sitting pretty; while also showing me another side of a suit and tie that was interesting— The ability to be invisible, and also say many things without talking, for anyone paying attention to the complex series of things very often overlooked by a normal onlooker or audience, Which I was, and wasn't— because I was looking for something. The mind boggling thing to me was, by watching, I was actually finding it. [The Festival Project ™] —Death of a Superstar DJ As Seen on TV The Television People “Puzzle Pieces” I don't want anything I don't want anyone Conflated circumstance Oh, it was was just a nut— Got it and now it's gone Pulled it all off at the thought It was Thunderous But now I got it together I don't want anyone Especially not a poor boy No I'm not alone, boy I got my kitty Pet the cat and love my pussy, So it's really not a mystery I don't need him, or anybody really Miss me with that shit That's a pretty promise and a big redaction Deadass I stepped into my ballet shoe And onto shards of glass I guess that's on pointe But off topic Co-ed saunabody shopping I show up at Equinox But only when I want (On proxy) I protect my heart (On God) I don't want nobody really. One one-off on Wall Street, brother Don't bother calling back Don't got my number, Not a problem Not my name Or my address Cause if you did You'd be depressed like I am. Now we're getting dressed You take a cab I take the train Just another day of training But my life. Is steady draining There's no use in even explaining myself I guess I'm selfish Like dental floss for Christmas Or shellfish for the kitty But for me just friuits and veggies You don't notice? I love nobody, Cause nobody could love me Now I'm over it Now I'm over it Now I'm over it But you know the cost I was nothing Now I want Nothing Nobody love me I don't want nobody, No I'm not sorry How they're swarming on my GPS location With these second rate bit glitches I stay sleeping in my kitch But I'll never rest, I guess Until theirs justice Said that. {Enter The Multiverse} Excerpt: The Television People (TVP) Season 4 © The Complex Collevtivd [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights Reserved REGINALD Would you kill your prostitute for one million dollars? PATRICK Why would you ask me that? REGINALD That's an odd answer. I'd expect your response to be somewhere along the lines of denial of— ever having a prostitute. PATRICK I'm a talk show host. REGINALD Is that supposed to mean something? PATRICK There are certain societal assumptions. REGINALD Do you find yourself—befitting to any of those stereotypes? PATRICK I don't find myself “befitting” at all. REGINALD You know, local [charters of our office] — (But Patrick speaks quickly and with dominance to cut him off.) PATRICK Now that I know what you are— REGINALD You mean “who”? PATRICK I mean “what”; why make and owl's cry in response to a dog's bark? [a realization between the both of them is immidiately found; this sort of language has implied they are belonging to the same branch of THE EYE which acts above the law; it is a fair fight— and now they this phrase has been established, there are now rules written or unspoken which can be applied here.] REGINALD cocks his head and forces an awkward smirk. REGINALD Very well. I am quite the trouble maker; I am mischief, I am danger, I am Chaos, I am leveled I am honored, I am damned I am also coming making day of peace and hallowed are you; I am also coming waves of needing peace to which I bound to. So sparrow coming grace and peace and giving, Made and tied, Though had you not the ever presence or the record for the time, So then you too shall wander, mercilessly to and fro and all about, And here and there but never where my value has been gathered. So for that, the dust is set, And said and twisted, never making bread for peace And dead for death, and craving this, to set of force her Having made my honor there, and lying in the wit and willow, weathered veins and weathervane, And twisting wind of fate and fortune. So, my mind and tressure buried there for gains and white, her shadow Barren in the east, and in the west her mortuary; Seeking sane and crypt but tied and kept for thithered foust and fouling, Butter turned to brittle, May, September, Then another serpent— More to moulf and wept her slated dream for keeping broken bear in, There the wake had frozen into lake and also leather boxes, For what will of what I am and is her fare not wearing any; Though the mister winds of east and west had set her onward any. Lemons and limes, though— Taking my time, soured Never with water, sugar But chest without pride; There in the wake marked and marched o. Her army, Not to yawn or buyoer billow, Porridge feathered, Cream and none for part her hunger There though, then were the marks And the found of the wicked past; Ties there and fire would have her mark upon the dungeon throne, Weeping here though on the floor for flour Every hour passed as I, come creeping with the forest feathered, dimmed the basket having cut from tethered grass, I. And now we wait though them, here, The marshmellow and willow not having woken, Though Monday, for total control of her honor, Contorted. Then came, seeking guild and weight and force, The fear and wind though wish to pull apart the storm had gathered, fell apart itself, Though sit not back and then became as strong, a pebble which from dust became an avalanche at once, through windows past, I— Marked one forest, and one warm summer, And one forest, and good quilt, did slither, and then making in the forest, I, for did I run As yet to suffer also. Yo where the fuck am I going. Alright, airtight we want and something foraged from nothing in her name, And this the time that tells itself for life and health In other ways besides your own. Don't cough. For those who either suffering or lost know of your forces and so sure does come the rock that turned from stone in forests over, So you sure too shall come another, Poor and hurt but soon to suffer, Also. tisk- tisk The risk my friends is running wise, The coyotes running wild for find that lone and feathered friend, To which has flight with all the know that he, and friends are feasts of foe and so these might and waves of time are sure to grow into another. Right on. So I write on and then, the missed and uninformed becomes again the death I recommended. Ten till ten tales and also please give, and whistle whalfolks under our time which has lost mine and all others. So tempted there come gathered, weeping Feathers at her slaughtered as palms, Weight beyond the brow and below the belt to which that called her— Devil's mate and crater for the fate but fame at heart earned, casting shadows over which has lost its appetite, for now becalmed her hunger. Her hunger. Her hunger. REGINALD's tone changes entirely— if at first it may have been a playful game (and it wasn't) now it is serious— crucial, even. REGINALD Why did you do it? PATRICK I wouldn't do something like that… REGINALD —something like what? PATRICK realizes quickly he's been playing over in his mind that has not yet fully been realized on the surface of the conversation— it was an honest answer, but still implicit, and so in this moment of self awareness and realization, also of stunning showman and marksmanship, a certain light comes on as if the camera has been directed at him; his entire mask comes on at once, and no longer can the reminisce of an honest thought be detected. He has become a wall. PATRICK To follow up on your first question. Which was odd— REGINALD About killing your prostitute. (He means to intimidate, but PATRICK is a stone.) PATRICK You must not watch my show at all. REGINALD takes a moment to collect himself, with even just the slightest and temporary glimpse of fear in that he may have met his mental match, and has already lost the fight, also collecting his briefcase before he I told you no more trains. At the risk of sounding obnoxious, I've started ignoring all the voices in my head— Even though they're always right. fuck! REGINALD pauses, takes a deep breath while opening the door before looking back over his shoulder. REGINALD I must not. He walks out and immediately slams the door behind him. PATRICK, as if still in the eye of the camera remains calm, although, just the glimmer of fire in his eyes reflect the battle has yet been won. But as we all know by now, He will win the fight. The television people, season four I can't stand these fuckin hoes; Two days off in your hole Offers you a whole new perspective Of your own God complex; You're better off alone, Dead, Or on prescription medicines For all those thoughts in your head Like the bullet holes left from the gun That is poor and alone And just not having money. Confidence lost with a look, And you're sure you just should have gone come But the court office closes its doors at 4:30 And you've been done wrong Four long lost lovers over, It not about that, but motorcycles It's not about reps, It's about cycles I'm one our Peloton down And a whole world to go While you morons just on and on Won't stop talking Here's to disturbing your peace at the equinox And anywhere else you rest your rotten core, You dirty who're— What's it costs for love? Not a whole lot, Don't you see that I'm struggled in Brooklyn? Fuck this whole raw sewage garbage bucket If I gargle hard enough I'll just throw up But you push all the bottles and straws to the end of the curb And the colored sand blacks to the outskirts So we work harder It's a ocean of no But you know not what it does not to know me So below your own suffering goes the call of the crow just before dawn Mx To drop out Cool I don't want to be here I just want a surfboard Apparently it's your year But I'd slit my wrists for Harvard Yeah, it is— that kind of hurt Yes, it is that kind of pain The corvette stole your very favorite colors And your name That sort of wickedness, Just before it ends The candles flickers and the winter's coming in atop the l marble kitchen counters All right, all yours Patched up, or in the poorhouse Compliments to the chef, of course, compliments to the chef. Gotta go to the court house Of course cause I'm black So it's automatically implied I just don't work hard enough Or just ain't made the cut My momma was a dancer, not an athlete My momma made me fat and now I can't do that either If I'm the other black girl In a room full of white men I automatically become “The ugly one” So then I'm off. What's the point of coming here? A black book? A black box? Try to run me off out of the equinox on Walter Well done. I should not have wrote about it Lil bitz My son accused me of being in the Illuminati. He's 9. How do you even respond to that? I love my son, He's like really, really… fat. It's okay— I kinda like it; he's fat, I used to be fat; So we talk about fat people shit. Like McDonald's. And ham. lol This lady on the subway leaned on my hand on the pole. And I mean like really leaned into it, With her whole body weight. I just came from the gym, I been up all night, And she like— Leaned. Like, you know I didn't say shit, I just let it happen, But inside I'm like, WHY ARE YOU TOUCHHING MEEEEEEEEE?!!?!? WHY ARE YOU TOUCHING ME?! This train is not full. I don't think you understand. I just came out the steam room. I am the equivalent of fresh and pressed. Then she's just gon Leeeean. FUCK THAT. STOP TOUCHING MEEEEE. but like irl I'm just standing there like, No protest. Inside: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! STOP IT! Outside: [nothing] Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW

Jummah Khutbah with Imam Oussama - 5 December 2025

Dig-A-Bit is a weekly mini Bible study with Cindy Colley. It supplements the Digging Deep Bible study for women. For more information about the Digging Deep Bible Study for Women, visit TheColleyHouse.org. SCRIPTURE REFERENCES: Exodus 12 1 Corinthians 5:7 Colossians 1:18 Matthew 28:18 Philippians 2:6-11 John 17:1-2 I Corinthians 15:27 Hebrews 13:4-5 John 15:14 Colossians 3:1 Hebrews 7:25 Revelation 5:6-13 Revelation 6:1-16 Revelation 7:9-17 Revelation 12:11 1 Peter 1:18ff LINKS: PDF Transcript for this Podcast Digging Deep in God’s Word Bible Study for Women Bless Your Heart Blog West Huntsville church of Christ at Providence RESOURCES: The Colley House Music: “Podcast” by JD Sound at audiojungle.net

Dig-A-Bit is a weekly mini Bible study with Cindy Colley. It supplements the Digging Deep Bible study for women. For more information about the Digging Deep Bible Study for Women, visit TheColleyHouse.org. SCRIPTURE REFERENCES: Exodus 7-10 Genesis 3:15 Colossians 3:5 LINKS: PDF Transcript for this Podcast Digging Deep in God’s Word Bible Study for Women Bless Your Heart Blog West Huntsville church of Christ at Providence RESOURCES: The Colley House Music: “Podcast” by JD Sound at audiojungle.net

Dig-A-Bit is a weekly mini Bible study with Cindy Colley. It supplements the Digging Deep Bible study for women. For more information about the Digging Deep Bible Study for Women, visit TheColleyHouse.org. SCRIPTURE REFERENCES: Exodus 3 Exodus 3:7-8 Exodus 4 Exodus 7-12 LINKS: PDF Transcript for this Podcast Digging Deep in God’s Word Bible Study for Women Bless Your Heart Blog West Huntsville church of Christ at Providence RESOURCES: The Colley House Music: “Podcast” by JD Sound at audiojungle.net

Dig-A-Bit is a weekly mini Bible study with Cindy Colley. It supplements the Digging Deep Bible study for women. For more information about the Digging Deep Bible Study for Women, visit TheColleyHouse.org. SCRIPTURE REFERENCES: Exodus 7-8 Exodus 1 Exodus 8:3-4 Exodus 8:9-10 LINKS: PDF Transcript for this Podcast Digging Deep in God's Word Bible Study for Women Bless Your Heart Blog West Huntsville church of Christ at Providence RESOURCES: The Colley House Music: “Podcast” by JD Sound at audiojungle.net

Mike shares a message about how the gospel moves through forbearance.

Mike shares a message about how the gospel moves through forbearance.

When God's Forbearance Ends | Understanding Divine Patience and Justice | 10 31 2025

I would simply remind you that God remains faithful to His covenants. The rainbow belongs to God, and it will serve as the sign that He established in Genesis 9, come what may. Of greater importance is the need for God's people to remember God's covenant of forbearance.Support the showThanks for listening! Follow us on Facebook or Instagram more info colonialkc.org

Jody Hojin Kimmel, Sensei - ZCNYC - 10/18/25 - How do you become ‘rested and ready' to meet those things you'd rather hurry by, or bring under control and fix? Hojin Sensei reminds us that a simple pause can skillfully hold this tension of opposites, which calls on a deeper intimacy with the self through practice. In this way our actions align with the aspiration to Patience Paramita as practice itself. - Hojin Sensei's Saturday Zazenkai Talk 18th October at Fire Lotus Temple.

Pr. Will Weedon, Host of “The Word of the Lord Endures Forever” We Praise You, O God The Word of the Lord Endures Forever Celebrating the Saints Thank, Praise, Serve and Obey See My Savior's Hands The post The Fruit of the Spirit: Forbearance, Kindness and Goodness – Pr. Will Weedon, 10/6/25 (2791) first appeared on Issues, Etc..

In this episode, Jeffrey Tucker joins Karol to discuss his latest book Spirits of America and the lessons he’s drawn from the digital age and post-pandemic world. Tucker reflects on how lockdowns exposed deep social divides and why rediscovering the value of routine and ordinary life is essential for resilience. He highlights the importance of gratitude in daily tasks, shares concerns about society’s direction after COVID, and offers timeless advice to his younger self about risk-taking, courage, and perseverance. The Karol Markowicz Show is part of the Clay Travis & Buck Sexton Podcast Network - new episodes debut every Wednesday & Friday. Purchase Jeffrey's NEW Book See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This week, Bill and Phil look at the indictment of James Comey, Trump‘s speech to gathered military leaders, and the government shut down, and breakdown the ways that each represents the erosion of democratic norms.

In 1996 a woman in China happened into a bookstore and picked up a copy of Zhuan Falun, and over the next couple of days realized that she had found the spiritual path she had longed for, and she became a Falun Dafa practitioner. Please listen here to how she went from being the spoiled […]

The Prophet of Mercy is a short series that explores the mercy of Prophet Muhammad through various events that occurred in his life, and some events after his death. In the third episode, we appreciate the forbearance of the Messenger of God, and his grand generosity in dealing with others. What is mentioned is but a few examples of the manners that made him so beloved to the many that followed him. Aired: 10/9/25

When a practitioner in Hebei Province was assigned to distribute funds to low income local residents she followed the guidelines, but later discovered that corruption was common, and most people in her role withheld funds illegally. When the Provincial government ordered an audit of all the distributions, she felt calm and upright, having practiced the […]

Angela and I hit on a new proposal in the Senate to require mortgage forbearance during natural disasters and “emergencies”. The Dragon fire hits top 10 biggest ever in AZ. Plus radioactive wasps, dynamic pricing, the AZ governor race and more!

The SAVE plan's payment forbearance is supposed to stick around through 2028, but that's looking unlikely. Here's why we think the clock's ticking on SAVE, what the latest lawsuit could mean for the plan's future, and how new legislation is tightening the rules on forbearance across the board. You'll find out what this shift means if you're currently on SAVE, what counts (and what doesn't) during this forbearance period, and what you need to know now to help you avoid surprises later. It's a confusing time for borrowers, but this episode gives you a clearer path forward. Key moments: (04:54) Why almost nobody should stay in SAVE forbearance after August 1st (10:08) Don't panic about the “Big Beautiful Bill” changes — it isn't great, but it's not a total disaster either (12:33) Parent PLUS borrowers may lose access to affordable repayment options after July 2026 (15:35) Why tax-smart income strategies matter more than ever   Like the show? There are several ways you can help! Follow on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or Amazon Music Leave an honest review on Apple Podcasts  Subscribe to the newsletter Feeling helpless when it comes to your student loans? Try our free student loan calculator Check out our refinancing bonuses we negotiated Book your custom student loan plan Get profession-specific financial planning Do you have a question about student loans? Leave us a voicemail here or email us at help@studentloanplanner.com and we might feature it in an upcoming show!  

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Questions? Thoughts? Send a Text to The Optometry Money Podcast!Episode SummaryIn this timely episode, Evon unpacks the Department of Education's recent surprise announcement that interest will resume accruing on the SAVE plan's current forbearance beginning August 1, 2025. We explore what this means for optometrists managing student loans - especially those approaching forgiveness eligibility or considering refinancing.What You'll LearnSurprise Announcement: Why SAVE's interest-free forbearance ends on August 1, 2025, and how to prepareOBBBA Overview: How this new legislation (effective July 2026) changes income-driven repayment plan options - removing SAVE, PAYE, ICR plans as available options for current optometristsRepayment Roadmap: How optometrists should evaluate refinancing, staying federal, or switching plans based on degree completion and loan timingIDR Plan Comparison: Breaking down olcd vs. new IBR, PAYE, and SAVE rules - including repayment terms like 20‑year repayment at 10% of discretionary incomeStrategic Tax Planning: Using filing status and extensions (especially important in community-property states) to lock in the lowest monthly paymentTimeline Guidance: When key deadlines hit (Aug 1, 2025; July 2026; July 2028) and how to reconcile existing loans within the new REPAY plan frameworkResources MentionedThe Optometry Money Podcast Ep 143: How the Final One Big Beautiful Bill Act Impacts Optometrists – Taxes, Student Loans, and More!Click here to Subscribe to the Eyes On The Money Newsletter for weekly financial insights tailored specifically to optometrists.Have Questions? CLICK HERE to schedule a short introductory callThe Optometry Money Podcast is dedicated to helping optometrists make better decisions around their money, careers, and practices. The show is hosted by Evon Mendrin, CFP®, CSLP®, owner of Optometry Wealth Advisors, a financial planning firm just for optometrists nationwide.

If you've been riding the SAVE Plan forbearance wave, a big shift is headed your way. The Department of Education announced that the SAVE forbearance will officially end on August 1, 2025. That means interest starts ticking again, and borrowers will be pushed to switch repayment plans. Most will be steered toward the old Income-Based Repayment (IBR) plan, especially with the One Big Beautiful Bill Act set to overhaul everything in July 2026. But you've still got options. Find out what the end of SAVE forbearance means for your loans, what the government is recommending (and why), and how you can make the smartest move for your student loans. Key moments: (04:01) Choosing between IBR and RAP depends on PSLF status, years in repayment, and forgiveness goals (07:46) PSLF isn't dead: why potential policy reversals don't mean your forgiveness plan is doomed (09:41) When paying off your loans might actually make more sense (and how to get a lower interest rate) (14:50) After years of chaos, borrowers just want stable rules so they can actually plan their lives Like the show? There are several ways you can help! Follow on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or Amazon Music Leave an honest review on Apple Podcasts  Subscribe to the newsletter Feeling helpless when it comes to your student loans? Try our free student loan calculator Check out our refinancing bonuses we negotiated Book your custom student loan plan Get profession-specific financial planning Do you have a question about student loans? Leave us a voicemail here or email us at help@studentloanplanner.com and we might feature it in an upcoming show!  

“Forbearance: Grace in the Gap Between Trigger and Triumph”What happens between the moment you're tested… and the moment you choose peace? That space is called forbearance — and it may be the very muscle that separates leaders from reactors, peacekeepers from people-pleasers, and visionaries from victims. In this episode, Dr. Kelly explores how practicing forbearance in leadership, love, and life can lead to stronger boundaries, deeper self-respect, and elevated emotional intelligence.Share, like, and follow this Vivalife SPF ME podcast on Spotify/Amazon,/Google platformsVivaLife SPF ME • A podcast on Spotify for PodcastersSubscribe to our YouTube: https://youtube.com/@vivalifehealthhub8261?si=zLFMLAZ126ss6qyOClick the link below to join our mailing list, events, and experienceshttps://vivalifespfme.com/dr-kelly-o-md-linktreeBook Dr. Kelly O., MD: https://vivalifespfme.com/speakerBuy your journal: https://vivalifespfme.myshopify.com/products/vivalife-spf-me-journal We can't be erased, T-shirt & Hat! https://vivalifespfme.myshopify.com/products/we-cant-be-erased-tshirt #Affirmation #365DaysofAffirmation #VivalifeSPFMEPodcast #VivalifeSPFME #VivalifeHealthHUB #DrKellyOMD

In this episode of the Marriage Kids and Money Podcast, Andy Hill is joined by Robert Farrington and Jordan Biesinger to explore two powerful financial topics: tackling student loan debt and achieving Coast FIRE. First, Robert Farrington, founder of The College Investor, shares urgent updates on the resumption of student loan default collections, what borrowers need to know right now, and smart strategies for managing debt amid confusing government changes. Then, we switch gears with Jordan Biesinger, a Coast FIRE success story. Jordan and his wife hit Coast FIRE in their 20s and chose to move to China for a simpler, more financially free life. He shares exactly how they did it—and how you can too. EPISODE RESOURCES Robert Farrington (Website): https://thecollegeinvestor.com Jordan Biesinger (YouTube): https://youtube.com/@BiesingerFIREJourney CHAPTERS 00:00 - Intro01:30 - The Return of Student Loan Collections02:50 - What Happens If You Default on Student Loans04:20 - Forbearance vs. Default: Key Differences05:45 - Don't Count on Future Forgiveness07:00 - The Trillion-Dollar Student Loan Problem08:00 - The SAVE Plan: Dead or Alive?09:40 - Using the Forbearance Window Wisely10:40 - Alternatives to the SAVE Plan12:00 - How to Find Out Who You Owe13:40 - Increasing Income and Cutting Big Expenses15:45 - Is College Still a Smart Investment?18:00 - The ROI Reality of a College Degree19:30 - Where to Find More Help from The College Investor21:00 - Coast Fire Family: Jordan's Journey Begins21:45 - The Coast Fire 5 with Jordan23:00 - How Real Estate and Frugality Fueled Their FIRE25:30 - From Student Loans to Coast FIRE27:00 - Index Funds and Simple Investing28:30 - Income Growth Through Career and Side Hustles30:00 - Life and Work Abroad After Coast FIRE31:30 - Investing Beyond Retirement32:30 - Teaching Financial Literacy to the Next Generation33:45 - Why They Chose to Move to China35:30 - Coast FIRE as a Path to Flexibility and Healing36:30 - Life in China and Living Simply37:30 - Final Advice for Achieving Coast FIRE MKM RESOURCES: MKM Coaching: Want 1-on-1 support with your family finance journey? Book a time with me today. Coast FIRE Calculator: A free calculator to help you find out when you can slow down or stop investing for retirement. Mortgage Payoff Calculator: A free calculator to help you see how fast you can become mortgage free. YouTube: Subscribe for free to watch videos of these episodes and interviews. RECOMMENDED RESOURCES (SPONSORS AND AFFILIATES): Monarch Money - Best Budget App for Families & Couples Empower - Free Portfolio Tracker Crew - HYSA Banking Built for Families - Get an Extra 0.5% APY with my partner link Ethos - Affordable Term Life Insurance Trust & Will - Convenient Estate Planning HOW WE MAKE MONEY + DISCLAIMER: This show may contain affiliate links or links from our advertisers where we earn a commission, direct payment or products. Opinions are the creators alone. Information shared on this podcast is for entertainment purposes only and should not be considered as professional advice. Marriage Kids and Money (www.marriagekidsandmoney.com) is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to amazon.com. CREDITS: Podcast Artwork: Liz Theresa Editor: Johnny Sohl Podcast Support: Nev Maraj Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

3 Roles of Every Christian to Ensure Unity in the Church 1. The Conduct of Faith, v. 1 2. The Character of Forbearance, v. 2 3. The Call of Fellowship, v. 3

In this episode, Dr. Cherry breaks down why Gen X is struggling the most with student loans—and what you can do about it. From confusing repayment plans to the fine print of forgiveness programs, understanding your options now can save you thousands later. If you're feeling stuck or overwhelmed, this conversation can help you take back control of your financial future.Takeaways:• Gen X = Highest debt• Know your repayment plan• Forgiveness is possible• Avoid costly forbearance• Act now, save laterWant to learn more? Connect with us below!Stay informed and inspired! Join our FREE wealth & well-being newsletterDo you want confidence & clarity? Check out our award-winning wealth advice services.Grab Your Copy of Dr. Cherry's book ‘Wealth In The Key of Life'Disclosure: episodes are educational only, not advice. Review our disclosures here: https://www.concurrentfp.com/disclosures/

One of the most humbling things that's happened to Cameron since the publication of his first book of poetry, titled Forbearance, came when former poet laureate Ted Kooser posted one of the poems with a note saying he wished he'd written it! In this episode, Mark asks Cameron about that experience, and about the creative process behind this collection of poems. Some reading, some analysis, and a lot of storytelling make this a fascinating window into Cameron's work, especially touching on its biblical, theological, and even cosmological layers. Get your copy here: Forbearance by Cameron Brooks (Cascade Books)Read more of Cameron's writing on his Substack: Conversant THE COMMENTARY is an in-depth conversation about vision, worship, and life at Grace Presbyterian Church.Subscribe on Stitcher, Apple Podcasts or Spotify

The Chinese character for forbearance (忍) is composed of two components: the character for “knife” at the top and the character for “heart” beneath it. This symbolizes enduring with the heart under pressure—not through blind submission, but with wisdom, courage, and compassion. In this episode of Minghui Insight, we delve into forbearance, one of the […]

A teacher in South Korea began practicing Falun Dafa 20 years ago, and relied on the principles of Truthfulness, Compassion, and Forbearance to navigate the many changes in his professional career. Always trusting in Master's guidance, he accepted transfers many times and always understood it was his role to help others learn about Falun Dafa. […]

A once vindictive person obtained the Fa in 1997 and has since lived by the principles of Truthfulness, Compassion and Forbearance. While she was Illegally imprisoned for her faith in 2020, she sensed that another prisoner was contemplating suicide and held her hand and convinced her not to, the woman thanked her, and promised to […]