Podcasts about in brooklyn

Speed cameras may soon ticket drivers in work zones on MTA bridges and tunnels new state budget lets the agency use them at spots like the Verrazzano Bridge and Queens-Midtown Tunnel. Meanwhile, In Brooklyn, Councilmember Lincoln Restler lost a court challenge to remove his primary opponent from the ballot after claiming their supporters misled residents into signing a petition. Plus, the Knicks now lead the Celtics 2–0 after another one-point win on the road. Game 3 is Saturday at Madison Square Garden. Game 4 is Monday.

On this episode of Selective Ignorance, Mandii B and special guests Kazeem Famuyide (7pm In Brooklyn) and Kevin Clancey (Barstool Sports) take a deep dive into the layers of race, personal branding, and economics shaping the world of sports, with a spotlight on the WNBA and the rivalry between Caitlin Clark and Angel Reese. The conversation kicks off with The Problematic Nature of Race in Sports (00:00) before debating who truly represents the league's future (01:57). As we compare Caitlin Clark and Angel Reese (05:06), we examine how race and public perception influence their careers and media narratives. Beyond the rivalry, we explore The Economic Landscape of Women's Basketball (10:08) and how personal branding plays a crucial role in an athlete's success (11:31). The discussion expands to the broader impact of Race and Gender in Sports Narratives (16:19)—who gets to be the hero, and who is cast as the villain (20:19)? Shifting gears, we talk about the art of the game, from The Aesthetic Appeal of Athletic Performance (23:31) to the Ball family's undeniable influence on modern basketball (28:03). We also break down The Rise of Caitlin Clark (30:13) and the ever-present scrutiny of Controversial Athlete Behavior (31:34). The episode takes an unexpected yet hilarious turn into everyday struggles, including Airport Etiquette and Travel Experiences (36:10)—because let's be real, navigating TSA is a sport in itself. But we bring it back to the serious stuff, unpacking Accountability in Sports (46:26) and the role race plays in how we judge winners and losers (55:20). From the power of celebrity influence to the moral dilemmas of sports fandom, this episode pulls no punches. Tap in!Follow the Guest: IG: @kazeemIG: @kfcbarstoolWatch the full videos of each episode by subscribing to Patreon at Patreon.com/selectiveignoranceFollow the host on Social MediaMandii B Instagram/X @fullcourtpumpsFollow the show on Social MediaInstagram @selective_ignoranceTiktok @selective.ignoranceX/Twitter @selectiveigpod

Federal prosecutors will seek the death penalty for Luigi Mangione, accused of murdering United Healthcare CEO Brian Thompson in Midtown last year. Meanwhile, former FDNY chief Brian Cordasco has been sentenced to 20 months in prison for corruption. In Brooklyn, a fatal crash has renewed calls to install speed limiters in the cars of drivers with multiple violations. WNYC's Michael Hill speaks with Senator Andrew Gounardes who sponsored the bill. Plus, New York City begins issuing fines to buildings not following its new composting mandate. WNYC's Liam Quigley explains how residents can avoid penalties.

It was another news-filled week in the NBA and of course TICKET & THE TRUTH has you covered. KG and Paul have an honest conversation about what's going on in Philly after more losses and Joel Embiid getting called out in the locker room. Can it be fixed?   Plus, the guys break down the juggernaut battle that took place between the Cavs and Celtics. What did it tell the guys about both teams. In Brooklyn, there are rumor Cam Thomas may be traded. What are the top fits for the bucket-getting guard?  | Can't forget to talk about the latest drama surrounding Draymond Green after he grabbed Zach Edey's leg and was called out by the Grizzlies coach. Is the criticism warranted?   Finally, they make their NFL and NBA weekend picks, discuss the Rookie Of The Year race after Dalton Knecht's strong run for the Lakers, and discuss James Harden's Legacy. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

It was another news-filled week in the NBA and of course TICKET & THE TRUTH has you covered. KG and Paul have an honest conversation about what's going on in Philly after more losses and Joel Embiid getting called out in the locker room. Can it be fixed?  Plus, the guys break down the juggernaut battle that took place between the Cavs and Celtics. What did it tell the guys about both teams. In Brooklyn, there are rumor Cam Thomas may be traded. What are the top fits for the bucket-getting guard?  |Can't forget to talk about the latest drama surrounding Draymond Green after he grabbed Zach Edey's leg and was called out by the Grizzlies coach. Is the criticism warranted?  Finally, they make their NFL and NBA weekend picks, discuss the Rookie Of The Year race after Dalton Knecht's strong run for the Lakers, and discuss James Harden's Legacy. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoicesSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In this ninth episode of the Diddy Saga Jim Chapman dissects the life of Diddy since his recent incarceration at the Metropolitan Detention Center. In Brooklyn. Jim details the booking process for “Diddy”, including the strip search, and explores Diddy's struggles with isolation and paranoia. Jim also tells you about Diddy's new cellmate, Sam Bankman-Fried, and examines the facility's notorious past.Legal Note: This Case has not been criminally decided and all persons discussed in this podcast are assumed innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. The criminal or civil charges expressed in this podcast are taken from public record and not the direct opinions of the host or producers of this podcast.This episode of Exposed: Scandalous Files of the Elite covers the Updates on Sean “Diddy” Combs legal issues and Sean combs incarceration details. Be sure to subscribe to Exposed wherever you get your podcast as we cover the impact of Sean Diddy Combs arrest on his career and answer the question Why is Sean Diddy Combs in Jail?  Diddy legal issues are surfacing almost daily and we will keep you updated on all Diddy Lawsuit news.Timestamps00:10 Welcome to Exposed Scandalous Files of the Elite16:59 Diddy Behind Bars: A New Reality21:37 The History of MDC Brooklyn30:56 New Allegations Surface Against Diddy42:48 Diddy's Legal Battles Continue Join us on Patreon for commercial free early releases, bonus content and more by clicking HERE Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/exposed-scandalous-files-of-the-elite--6073723/support.

Patreon preview. Unlock full episode at https://www.patreon.com/stavvysworld Kush Brothers is back in full swing!! Mike Cannon and JP McDade help make sense of some of the biggest news stories going on, including a man who was tried for flipping off a state trooper, a South Korean labor robot who wanted to end it all, and a bunch of other really well-researched current events. Mike, JP and Stav help callers including a lesbian who is suddenly interested in men, and a woman who suspects her boyfriend is a feeder. Watch Mike Cannon's new special TRAUMATIZED ANIMAL coming out September 15th on Chris Distefano's Youtube page!! Follow Mike Cannon on social media: https://www.youtube.com/mikecannoncomedy https://www.instagram.com/iammikecannon https://x.com/IamMikeCannon https://www.tiktok.com/@iammikecannon https://www.facebook.com/IamMikeCannon Watch JP McDade's special IN BROOKLYN out now on Stavvy's Youtube page: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s9TOXFM3t1M Follow JP McDade on social media: https://www.youtube.com/@jpmcdadecomedy    https://www.instagram.com/mcdadebaby/ https://x.com/jp_mcdade Wanna be part of the show? Call 904-800-STAV and leave a voicemail to get advice!

In this episode, Jon is joined by returning guest & friend of the pod Kazeem Famuyide for a conversation about Kaz's role at Fanatics Fest where he hosted the "Bing Bong Panel", his recent appearance on "7pm In Brooklyn" with one of his favorite Knicks Carmelo Anthony, NBA players that might get lost to history as time passes, the expectations facing the Knicks this upcoming season and much more! Watch the video version of this podcast on our YouTube channel! FOLLOW KAZ - @Kazeem FOLLOW MACRI - @JCMacriNBA FOLLOW GMAC - @AndrewJClaudio_ CHECK OUT THE KFS MERCH STORE! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Folks, J.P. McDade joins us on this week's episode where we hear about a LEGO trafficking ring, all black clothes being banned at a Texas school, people giving monks energy drinks in Cambodia, foot long worms in Texas, and a groundhog that got stuck in a claw machine Check out J.P.'s new special 'In Brooklyn' here: https://youtu.be/s9TOXFM3t1M?si=4btDWRc7Jz_JbbSf Become a patron for weekly bonus eps and more stuff! :www.patreon.com/whatatimepod Check out our YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/c/whatatimetobealive Get one of our t-shirts, or other merch, using this link! https://whatatimepod.bigcartel.com/whatatimepod.com Join our Discord chat here:discord.gg/jx7rB7J @pattymo // @kathbarbadoro // @eliyudin// @whatatimepod ©2024 What A Time LLC

Nevermind, I don't have time for this You see these diamonds in my eyes That means I shine for this Turn water into wine for this Make and serve dinner Bake dessert fiz irst Finish n sip syszurup Skip the slip Lizards Thistwerks biizerk Swerve yer learning curves Ya sure deserve this I don't be counting out bars For the verses Iceberg under the surface | | | You're the worst You deserve the Don't want none of that swag All black No brands All black What's that Don't ask Step back Just look at these hands Inside Outside Slide to the left Uptown Downtown I'm up next I'm a look around for a minute, Then dip Come take a trip Skip: A new mission I got to Turn around Put it down Take a breath Put it back Like damn What's that I run it over and over (uh) I better run for the coast (unh) If it's not open it's closed (it's not open) When it closes another one opens (I don't know) idk 2. Hubble | The Celvet Wave Yous a dick rider I am the decider of deciders I am the inspirer I still go side to side with it I'm higher than the hirer: ‍♀️ I fired you Eyes are getting wider and wider Wisest of the wiser, I sir— I surf-board, I sure does Ride ya Tidal That's the [Title] You can't tell me nothin I throw you in the dumpster I don't want to know you I don't owe you nothin Nonsense! I'm a walking art project You end up in the garbage (uh huh) (Alright ) (You know what it is) What it is— where we going What it is Where we going I was in the 212 Like, “Call me when the sky is blue” Devil is a liar, boo Double multiplier: two (Times two) Made the Times Square a cube! (Times two) (Tututu) I'm not gonna die till my eyes are Nylon Multilinguist, extinguished Klingon, Engllish KonichiwavhThis: My show's on No hoes exposed so I throw some clothes on Improv pros so I blow the show off So swole the whole house come down The whole house come down The whole house come down Woah Hi my blood Heavy like hot rain Waffles & Surup tho First 4 counts, Clips What the FUCK— DEX, (I got no Rolodex, not yet) I thought we were friends! Fuckthatshit (You're my sister, you're a snitch!) BangbangYouredead I'm the bay harbor butcher, Don't push me! That's how it ends (it is what it is) Can't make amends (I'm a genius, I guess) Drop the body Hide the prints! Now you're stuck inside my head I'll be back! No you won't Miami, ocean Deb is gone, now Deb's a ghost Put some rocks in, She no float (Salt water) Illuminati, swear to God (Work harder) Illuminati what the fuck Swear to God I wrote the plot What show you on? The one I wrote Illuminati stole my notes Now I'm Deb, And Deb's a ghost I call him Dexter, He the butcher Take a picture, Slit your *screams* I see what you mean Ice cream truck; First season, Deb's a prostitute, (I'm a COP) Finale season Deb's is gone, Deb's a ghost I am Dexter Slit your throat Illuminati stole my notes! Illuminati bugged my phone Caught me plotting I wrote new blood Woah sir, I'm awesome I know I wrote the plot for this I am not an officer, Not Illuminati Hahaha Charade you are I wrote the plot (Yes you are) Be careful sir! I wrote the plot! Somebody stole my google docs And hacked my phone Now Deb's a ghost Case closed. The case went closed Cause Deb's a ghost Harrison is in Los Angeles My new shit is coming on Not Illuminati God is plotting all the shows I ever wrote Deb is gone, cause Deb's a ghost. Better tha urs Hey victor I licked her Get a taste of my elixir; Like damn, I miss her! You're worthless; Papers, get served Surfs up I just swerved At work, just Do no disturb Put diamonds under this earth You're nervous; Suck my dick, sir Uh! Like damn Wait, this my track Nevermind just roll that back Like Uhh What was the hook Now this is the hook New password: Notebooks Like yeah— What's good? In Brooklyn reppin my hood Like yeah What's good? Alaska, Repping my hood Like yeah, What's good So Cal I'm back in my hood (South Side) Like yeah What's good In Cali Back in my hood (That's my hood) I am the new drill sergeant No McDonald's, bro Don't want that I got oats all on my stomach I got cornbread All in my notebooks Damn Got that? Bananas I make bread That's word— You're pigeons I'm rich, You're broke We're not synonyms; I'm the one who stole your divedends! WOAH What's that? Code words, I'm so indegenous Smoke signals I blow remedies I flow so hoes stay friends with me Snow globe Just don't throw hands at me! Yo! New York shit: Yeeted the pizzas New York shit Eating the pizza. New York shit Back in Manhattan New Person Black don't crack Don't crack Don't crack New hotel Back at the plaza That's a rap I'm a rapper I put the canon in camera Hammer pants Hiding the ass that you can't touch! Hey victor I licked her I'm sick of the metal defectors And shift work Shit hurts Get cursed I just surfed YO. (Loudy) Bubblegum Put em up! This is a stick up So Put em up! Stick you up Bubblegum Bubblegum I pull up Swift, I'm like Taylor I pull up Sticky like bubblegum Stick you up Here I come I got a lot of em, Hats and my habits is bad But I rob you doe Bubblegum Bubblegum Bubblegum Colors on colors But on my rims And my e da? This is chrome I aim at your dome Like “Where are you from?” Bitch are you dumb?! I don't even know you Get me a roll of the bubblegum Some for the homies Now open the drawer Like you're poppin a bubble: Gun/ Bubblegum Bubblegum Bubblegum Look Put em up! This is a stick up So Put em up! Stick you up Bubblegum Bubblegum I pull up Swift, I'm like Taylor I pull up Sticky like bubblegum Stick you up Here I come I got a lot of em, Hats and my habits is bad But I rob you doe Bubblegum Bubblegum Bubblegum Colors on colors But on my rims And my e da? This is chrome I aim at your dome Like “Where are you from?” Bitch are you dumb?! I don't even know you Get me a roll of the bubblegum Some for the homies Now open the drawer Like you're poppin a bubble: Gun/ Bubblegum Bubblegum Bubblegum Look 2 forte Guess the surfs up Watch me surf on Sunday After service (Church on Sundays) Pop up clubs, yuh Pop up all day Pop up /pop-tarts Pop up all day I'm that guy Can't close my eyelids Watch me fly by Friday, I'm up 5 days, ain't no day job makes this pay meant I got places to be I just shapeshift Can't explain this Limited action Guess this is Limited attraction I got limited edition hats In my backsplash, That's clutch Huh You brought a gun to a knife fight One punch man Got 3 hole punch That's right Now I'm up every night I got five eyes Remember that time that you Lied on me Lights on Get this I spin subliminal images Interest in the interest I mutated to Skrillex Get it? The best time to wear a striped sweater: Is never! You better do better, I'm never ever ready for sweater weather Tell Ever Ed Edd and Eddy Get ready for bed, Cause well fed and after dinner Dessert — I'm definitely the bread winner Smirk Shout out to cool herc My heart is purple, cause the world hurts Went into the army and deserted em I probably deserved to win, But I was not as Worth it as her, to sleep with Bitch which side you is in 8 male sandwhiches in My new kitchen Pay attention I love meat, But I don't eat chicken! Click click click I take your picture Paparazzi This is it I guess I'm Michael I'm a thriller I was big But I got thinner— What's up 2 forte Guess the surfs up Watch me surf on Sunday After service (Church on Sundays) Pop up clubs, yuh Pop up all day Pop up /pop-tarts Pop up all day I'm that guy Can't close my eyelids Watch me fly by Friday, I'm up 5 days, ain't no day job makes this pay meant I got places to be I just shapeshift Can't explain this Limited action Guess this is Limited attraction I got limited edition hats In my backsplash, That's clutch Huh You brought a gun to a knife fight One punch man Got 3 hole punch That's right Now I'm up every night I got five eyes Remember that time that you Lied on me Lights on Get this I spin subliminal images Interest in the interest I mutated to Skrillex Get it? The best time to wear a striped sweater: Is never! You better do better, I'm never ever ready for sweater weather Tell Ever Ed Edd and Eddy Get ready for bed, Cause well fed and after dinner Dessert — I'm definitely the bread winner Smirk Shout out to cool herc My heart is purple, cause the world hurts Went into the army and deserted em I probably deserved to win, But I was not as Worth it as her, to sleep with Bitch which side you is in 8 male sandwhiches in My new kitchen Pay attention I love meat, But I don't eat chicken! Click click click I take your picture Paparazzi This is it I guess I'm Michael I'm a thriller I was big But I got thinner— What's up I walk on the boulevard See my name on walk of stars This tattoo my code of arms Now I'm on the walk of stars School of rock All of you Dan suck my cock Rick and Morty M the doctor back to future Now I'm Marty What year you think this sprinter is I don't really give a shit! I want it so I bought it This shit is ten thousand verses “Deliver us from Eva “ What?! She's like, evil, I tell you! Ooh, I've never seen Eva Longoria as a villain before… Kinda. GABY You're not wearing that, are you? Why( what's wrong? Take it off now, Why what's wrong. Take it off now, or I'll kill you. With what, you're like 4 foot— [she rips open her dress revealing a GOD BODY AAAAAAHHH, MY EYES [traffix outside crashes] [plane falls from sky] Kinesthetics. [helicopter crash— Bigfoot is a peeping Tom; falls out of tree] That was worth it. Yeah. V.O. Once you start training in transit trainers, There's no going back. Two waist trainers, really. What, did you really think I was like— Jennifer Aniston I just thought you were two inches fatter. What?! It only adds like a centimeter! A centimeter is two inches on camera. I'm not doing anything on camera. I beg to differ. Don't beg, Jimmy Fallon In that other dimension: PLEASE. NO, PLEASE, just— NO. JIMMU FALLON. I'm not a writer. TINA FEY *gasp* AMY Shuunber —sure. Last night I set a fire ther burned at at lesst 750 degrees 1477 degrees— GO OH SHIT. 13 stories above Brooklyn, Atop of ancient holy lands I'm sure existed some several hundred thousand years ago HERE? LAND IT HERE. WHY HERE. Because it's there! There's nothing there! LAND IT TIGHT GET IT RIGHT GET IT RIGHT, Get it tight!!! {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

Nevermind, I don't have time for this You see these diamonds in my eyes That means I shine for this Turn water into wine for this Make and serve dinner Bake dessert fiz irst Finish n sip syszurup Skip the slip Lizards Thistwerks biizerk Swerve yer learning curves Ya sure deserve this I don't be counting out bars For the verses Iceberg under the surface | | | You're the worst You deserve the Don't want none of that swag All black No brands All black What's that Don't ask Step back Just look at these hands Inside Outside Slide to the left Uptown Downtown I'm up next I'm a look around for a minute, Then dip Come take a trip Skip: A new mission I got to Turn around Put it down Take a breath Put it back Like damn What's that I run it over and over (uh) I better run for the coast (unh) If it's not open it's closed (it's not open) When it closes another one opens (I don't know) idk 2. Hubble | The Celvet Wave Yous a dick rider I am the decider of deciders I am the inspirer I still go side to side with it I'm higher than the hirer: ‍♀️ I fired you Eyes are getting wider and wider Wisest of the wiser, I sir— I surf-board, I sure does Ride ya Tidal That's the [Title] You can't tell me nothin I throw you in the dumpster I don't want to know you I don't owe you nothin Nonsense! I'm a walking art project You end up in the garbage (uh huh) (Alright ) (You know what it is) What it is— where we going What it is Where we going I was in the 212 Like, “Call me when the sky is blue” Devil is a liar, boo Double multiplier: two (Times two) Made the Times Square a cube! (Times two) (Tututu) I'm not gonna die till my eyes are Nylon Multilinguist, extinguished Klingon, Engllish KonichiwavhThis: My show's on No hoes exposed so I throw some clothes on Improv pros so I blow the show off So swole the whole house come down The whole house come down The whole house come down Woah Hi my blood Heavy like hot rain Waffles & Surup tho First 4 counts, Clips What the FUCK— DEX, (I got no Rolodex, not yet) I thought we were friends! Fuckthatshit (You're my sister, you're a snitch!) BangbangYouredead I'm the bay harbor butcher, Don't push me! That's how it ends (it is what it is) Can't make amends (I'm a genius, I guess) Drop the body Hide the prints! Now you're stuck inside my head I'll be back! No you won't Miami, ocean Deb is gone, now Deb's a ghost Put some rocks in, She no float (Salt water) Illuminati, swear to God (Work harder) Illuminati what the fuck Swear to God I wrote the plot What show you on? The one I wrote Illuminati stole my notes Now I'm Deb, And Deb's a ghost I call him Dexter, He the butcher Take a picture, Slit your *screams* I see what you mean Ice cream truck; First season, Deb's a prostitute, (I'm a COP) Finale season Deb's is gone, Deb's a ghost I am Dexter Slit your throat Illuminati stole my notes! Illuminati bugged my phone Caught me plotting I wrote new blood Woah sir, I'm awesome I know I wrote the plot for this I am not an officer, Not Illuminati Hahaha Charade you are I wrote the plot (Yes you are) Be careful sir! I wrote the plot! Somebody stole my google docs And hacked my phone Now Deb's a ghost Case closed. The case went closed Cause Deb's a ghost Harrison is in Los Angeles My new shit is coming on Not Illuminati God is plotting all the shows I ever wrote Deb is gone, cause Deb's a ghost. Better tha urs Hey victor I licked her Get a taste of my elixir; Like damn, I miss her! You're worthless; Papers, get served Surfs up I just swerved At work, just Do no disturb Put diamonds under this earth You're nervous; Suck my dick, sir Uh! Like damn Wait, this my track Nevermind just roll that back Like Uhh What was the hook Now this is the hook New password: Notebooks Like yeah— What's good? In Brooklyn reppin my hood Like yeah What's good? Alaska, Repping my hood Like yeah, What's good So Cal I'm back in my hood (South Side) Like yeah What's good In Cali Back in my hood (That's my hood) I am the new drill sergeant No McDonald's, bro Don't want that I got oats all on my stomach I got cornbread All in my notebooks Damn Got that? Bananas I make bread That's word— You're pigeons I'm rich, You're broke We're not synonyms; I'm the one who stole your divedends! WOAH What's that? Code words, I'm so indegenous Smoke signals I blow remedies I flow so hoes stay friends with me Snow globe Just don't throw hands at me! Yo! New York shit: Yeeted the pizzas New York shit Eating the pizza. New York shit Back in Manhattan New Person Black don't crack Don't crack Don't crack New hotel Back at the plaza That's a rap I'm a rapper I put the canon in camera Hammer pants Hiding the ass that you can't touch! Hey victor I licked her I'm sick of the metal defectors And shift work Shit hurts Get cursed I just surfed YO. (Loudy) Bubblegum Put em up! This is a stick up So Put em up! Stick you up Bubblegum Bubblegum I pull up Swift, I'm like Taylor I pull up Sticky like bubblegum Stick you up Here I come I got a lot of em, Hats and my habits is bad But I rob you doe Bubblegum Bubblegum Bubblegum Colors on colors But on my rims And my e da? This is chrome I aim at your dome Like “Where are you from?” Bitch are you dumb?! I don't even know you Get me a roll of the bubblegum Some for the homies Now open the drawer Like you're poppin a bubble: Gun/ Bubblegum Bubblegum Bubblegum Look Put em up! This is a stick up So Put em up! Stick you up Bubblegum Bubblegum I pull up Swift, I'm like Taylor I pull up Sticky like bubblegum Stick you up Here I come I got a lot of em, Hats and my habits is bad But I rob you doe Bubblegum Bubblegum Bubblegum Colors on colors But on my rims And my e da? This is chrome I aim at your dome Like “Where are you from?” Bitch are you dumb?! I don't even know you Get me a roll of the bubblegum Some for the homies Now open the drawer Like you're poppin a bubble: Gun/ Bubblegum Bubblegum Bubblegum Look 2 forte Guess the surfs up Watch me surf on Sunday After service (Church on Sundays) Pop up clubs, yuh Pop up all day Pop up /pop-tarts Pop up all day I'm that guy Can't close my eyelids Watch me fly by Friday, I'm up 5 days, ain't no day job makes this pay meant I got places to be I just shapeshift Can't explain this Limited action Guess this is Limited attraction I got limited edition hats In my backsplash, That's clutch Huh You brought a gun to a knife fight One punch man Got 3 hole punch That's right Now I'm up every night I got five eyes Remember that time that you Lied on me Lights on Get this I spin subliminal images Interest in the interest I mutated to Skrillex Get it? The best time to wear a striped sweater: Is never! You better do better, I'm never ever ready for sweater weather Tell Ever Ed Edd and Eddy Get ready for bed, Cause well fed and after dinner Dessert — I'm definitely the bread winner Smirk Shout out to cool herc My heart is purple, cause the world hurts Went into the army and deserted em I probably deserved to win, But I was not as Worth it as her, to sleep with Bitch which side you is in 8 male sandwhiches in My new kitchen Pay attention I love meat, But I don't eat chicken! Click click click I take your picture Paparazzi This is it I guess I'm Michael I'm a thriller I was big But I got thinner— What's up 2 forte Guess the surfs up Watch me surf on Sunday After service (Church on Sundays) Pop up clubs, yuh Pop up all day Pop up /pop-tarts Pop up all day I'm that guy Can't close my eyelids Watch me fly by Friday, I'm up 5 days, ain't no day job makes this pay meant I got places to be I just shapeshift Can't explain this Limited action Guess this is Limited attraction I got limited edition hats In my backsplash, That's clutch Huh You brought a gun to a knife fight One punch man Got 3 hole punch That's right Now I'm up every night I got five eyes Remember that time that you Lied on me Lights on Get this I spin subliminal images Interest in the interest I mutated to Skrillex Get it? The best time to wear a striped sweater: Is never! You better do better, I'm never ever ready for sweater weather Tell Ever Ed Edd and Eddy Get ready for bed, Cause well fed and after dinner Dessert — I'm definitely the bread winner Smirk Shout out to cool herc My heart is purple, cause the world hurts Went into the army and deserted em I probably deserved to win, But I was not as Worth it as her, to sleep with Bitch which side you is in 8 male sandwhiches in My new kitchen Pay attention I love meat, But I don't eat chicken! Click click click I take your picture Paparazzi This is it I guess I'm Michael I'm a thriller I was big But I got thinner— What's up I walk on the boulevard See my name on walk of stars This tattoo my code of arms Now I'm on the walk of stars School of rock All of you Dan suck my cock Rick and Morty M the doctor back to future Now I'm Marty What year you think this sprinter is I don't really give a shit! I want it so I bought it This shit is ten thousand verses “Deliver us from Eva “ What?! She's like, evil, I tell you! Ooh, I've never seen Eva Longoria as a villain before… Kinda. GABY You're not wearing that, are you? Why( what's wrong? Take it off now, Why what's wrong. Take it off now, or I'll kill you. With what, you're like 4 foot— [she rips open her dress revealing a GOD BODY AAAAAAHHH, MY EYES [traffix outside crashes] [plane falls from sky] Kinesthetics. [helicopter crash— Bigfoot is a peeping Tom; falls out of tree] That was worth it. Yeah. V.O. Once you start training in transit trainers, There's no going back. Two waist trainers, really. What, did you really think I was like— Jennifer Aniston I just thought you were two inches fatter. What?! It only adds like a centimeter! A centimeter is two inches on camera. I'm not doing anything on camera. I beg to differ. Don't beg, Jimmy Fallon In that other dimension: PLEASE. NO, PLEASE, just— NO. JIMMU FALLON. I'm not a writer. TINA FEY *gasp* AMY Shuunber —sure. Last night I set a fire ther burned at at lesst 750 degrees 1477 degrees— GO OH SHIT. 13 stories above Brooklyn, Atop of ancient holy lands I'm sure existed some several hundred thousand years ago HERE? LAND IT HERE. WHY HERE. Because it's there! There's nothing there! LAND IT TIGHT GET IT RIGHT GET IT RIGHT, Get it tight!!! {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

Nevermind, I don't have time for this You see these diamonds in my eyes That means I shine for this Turn water into wine for this Make and serve dinner Bake dessert fiz irst Finish n sip syszurup Skip the slip Lizards Thistwerks biizerk Swerve yer learning curves Ya sure deserve this I don't be counting out bars For the verses Iceberg under the surface | | | You're the worst You deserve the Don't want none of that swag All black No brands All black What's that Don't ask Step back Just look at these hands Inside Outside Slide to the left Uptown Downtown I'm up next I'm a look around for a minute, Then dip Come take a trip Skip: A new mission I got to Turn around Put it down Take a breath Put it back Like damn What's that I run it over and over (uh) I better run for the coast (unh) If it's not open it's closed (it's not open) When it closes another one opens (I don't know) idk 2. Hubble | The Celvet Wave Yous a dick rider I am the decider of deciders I am the inspirer I still go side to side with it I'm higher than the hirer: ‍♀️ I fired you Eyes are getting wider and wider Wisest of the wiser, I sir— I surf-board, I sure does Ride ya Tidal That's the [Title] You can't tell me nothin I throw you in the dumpster I don't want to know you I don't owe you nothin Nonsense! I'm a walking art project You end up in the garbage (uh huh) (Alright ) (You know what it is) What it is— where we going What it is Where we going I was in the 212 Like, “Call me when the sky is blue” Devil is a liar, boo Double multiplier: two (Times two) Made the Times Square a cube! (Times two) (Tututu) I'm not gonna die till my eyes are Nylon Multilinguist, extinguished Klingon, Engllish KonichiwavhThis: My show's on No hoes exposed so I throw some clothes on Improv pros so I blow the show off So swole the whole house come down The whole house come down The whole house come down Woah Hi my blood Heavy like hot rain Waffles & Surup tho First 4 counts, Clips What the FUCK— DEX, (I got no Rolodex, not yet) I thought we were friends! Fuckthatshit (You're my sister, you're a snitch!) BangbangYouredead I'm the bay harbor butcher, Don't push me! That's how it ends (it is what it is) Can't make amends (I'm a genius, I guess) Drop the body Hide the prints! Now you're stuck inside my head I'll be back! No you won't Miami, ocean Deb is gone, now Deb's a ghost Put some rocks in, She no float (Salt water) Illuminati, swear to God (Work harder) Illuminati what the fuck Swear to God I wrote the plot What show you on? The one I wrote Illuminati stole my notes Now I'm Deb, And Deb's a ghost I call him Dexter, He the butcher Take a picture, Slit your *screams* I see what you mean Ice cream truck; First season, Deb's a prostitute, (I'm a COP) Finale season Deb's is gone, Deb's a ghost I am Dexter Slit your throat Illuminati stole my notes! Illuminati bugged my phone Caught me plotting I wrote new blood Woah sir, I'm awesome I know I wrote the plot for this I am not an officer, Not Illuminati Hahaha Charade you are I wrote the plot (Yes you are) Be careful sir! I wrote the plot! Somebody stole my google docs And hacked my phone Now Deb's a ghost Case closed. The case went closed Cause Deb's a ghost Harrison is in Los Angeles My new shit is coming on Not Illuminati God is plotting all the shows I ever wrote Deb is gone, cause Deb's a ghost. Better tha urs Hey victor I licked her Get a taste of my elixir; Like damn, I miss her! You're worthless; Papers, get served Surfs up I just swerved At work, just Do no disturb Put diamonds under this earth You're nervous; Suck my dick, sir Uh! Like damn Wait, this my track Nevermind just roll that back Like Uhh What was the hook Now this is the hook New password: Notebooks Like yeah— What's good? In Brooklyn reppin my hood Like yeah What's good? Alaska, Repping my hood Like yeah, What's good So Cal I'm back in my hood (South Side) Like yeah What's good In Cali Back in my hood (That's my hood) I am the new drill sergeant No McDonald's, bro Don't want that I got oats all on my stomach I got cornbread All in my notebooks Damn Got that? Bananas I make bread That's word— You're pigeons I'm rich, You're broke We're not synonyms; I'm the one who stole your divedends! WOAH What's that? Code words, I'm so indegenous Smoke signals I blow remedies I flow so hoes stay friends with me Snow globe Just don't throw hands at me! Yo! New York shit: Yeeted the pizzas New York shit Eating the pizza. New York shit Back in Manhattan New Person Black don't crack Don't crack Don't crack New hotel Back at the plaza That's a rap I'm a rapper I put the canon in camera Hammer pants Hiding the ass that you can't touch! Hey victor I licked her I'm sick of the metal defectors And shift work Shit hurts Get cursed I just surfed YO. (Loudy) Bubblegum Put em up! This is a stick up So Put em up! Stick you up Bubblegum Bubblegum I pull up Swift, I'm like Taylor I pull up Sticky like bubblegum Stick you up Here I come I got a lot of em, Hats and my habits is bad But I rob you doe Bubblegum Bubblegum Bubblegum Colors on colors But on my rims And my e da? This is chrome I aim at your dome Like “Where are you from?” Bitch are you dumb?! I don't even know you Get me a roll of the bubblegum Some for the homies Now open the drawer Like you're poppin a bubble: Gun/ Bubblegum Bubblegum Bubblegum Look Put em up! This is a stick up So Put em up! Stick you up Bubblegum Bubblegum I pull up Swift, I'm like Taylor I pull up Sticky like bubblegum Stick you up Here I come I got a lot of em, Hats and my habits is bad But I rob you doe Bubblegum Bubblegum Bubblegum Colors on colors But on my rims And my e da? This is chrome I aim at your dome Like “Where are you from?” Bitch are you dumb?! I don't even know you Get me a roll of the bubblegum Some for the homies Now open the drawer Like you're poppin a bubble: Gun/ Bubblegum Bubblegum Bubblegum Look 2 forte Guess the surfs up Watch me surf on Sunday After service (Church on Sundays) Pop up clubs, yuh Pop up all day Pop up /pop-tarts Pop up all day I'm that guy Can't close my eyelids Watch me fly by Friday, I'm up 5 days, ain't no day job makes this pay meant I got places to be I just shapeshift Can't explain this Limited action Guess this is Limited attraction I got limited edition hats In my backsplash, That's clutch Huh You brought a gun to a knife fight One punch man Got 3 hole punch That's right Now I'm up every night I got five eyes Remember that time that you Lied on me Lights on Get this I spin subliminal images Interest in the interest I mutated to Skrillex Get it? The best time to wear a striped sweater: Is never! You better do better, I'm never ever ready for sweater weather Tell Ever Ed Edd and Eddy Get ready for bed, Cause well fed and after dinner Dessert — I'm definitely the bread winner Smirk Shout out to cool herc My heart is purple, cause the world hurts Went into the army and deserted em I probably deserved to win, But I was not as Worth it as her, to sleep with Bitch which side you is in 8 male sandwhiches in My new kitchen Pay attention I love meat, But I don't eat chicken! Click click click I take your picture Paparazzi This is it I guess I'm Michael I'm a thriller I was big But I got thinner— What's up 2 forte Guess the surfs up Watch me surf on Sunday After service (Church on Sundays) Pop up clubs, yuh Pop up all day Pop up /pop-tarts Pop up all day I'm that guy Can't close my eyelids Watch me fly by Friday, I'm up 5 days, ain't no day job makes this pay meant I got places to be I just shapeshift Can't explain this Limited action Guess this is Limited attraction I got limited edition hats In my backsplash, That's clutch Huh You brought a gun to a knife fight One punch man Got 3 hole punch That's right Now I'm up every night I got five eyes Remember that time that you Lied on me Lights on Get this I spin subliminal images Interest in the interest I mutated to Skrillex Get it? The best time to wear a striped sweater: Is never! You better do better, I'm never ever ready for sweater weather Tell Ever Ed Edd and Eddy Get ready for bed, Cause well fed and after dinner Dessert — I'm definitely the bread winner Smirk Shout out to cool herc My heart is purple, cause the world hurts Went into the army and deserted em I probably deserved to win, But I was not as Worth it as her, to sleep with Bitch which side you is in 8 male sandwhiches in My new kitchen Pay attention I love meat, But I don't eat chicken! Click click click I take your picture Paparazzi This is it I guess I'm Michael I'm a thriller I was big But I got thinner— What's up I walk on the boulevard See my name on walk of stars This tattoo my code of arms Now I'm on the walk of stars School of rock All of you Dan suck my cock Rick and Morty M the doctor back to future Now I'm Marty What year you think this sprinter is I don't really give a shit! I want it so I bought it This shit is ten thousand verses “Deliver us from Eva “ What?! She's like, evil, I tell you! Ooh, I've never seen Eva Longoria as a villain before… Kinda. GABY You're not wearing that, are you? Why( what's wrong? Take it off now, Why what's wrong. Take it off now, or I'll kill you. With what, you're like 4 foot— [she rips open her dress revealing a GOD BODY AAAAAAHHH, MY EYES [traffix outside crashes] [plane falls from sky] Kinesthetics. [helicopter crash— Bigfoot is a peeping Tom; falls out of tree] That was worth it. Yeah. V.O. Once you start training in transit trainers, There's no going back. Two waist trainers, really. What, did you really think I was like— Jennifer Aniston I just thought you were two inches fatter. What?! It only adds like a centimeter! A centimeter is two inches on camera. I'm not doing anything on camera. I beg to differ. Don't beg, Jimmy Fallon In that other dimension: PLEASE. NO, PLEASE, just— NO. JIMMU FALLON. I'm not a writer. TINA FEY *gasp* AMY Shuunber —sure. Last night I set a fire ther burned at at lesst 750 degrees 1477 degrees— GO OH SHIT. 13 stories above Brooklyn, Atop of ancient holy lands I'm sure existed some several hundred thousand years ago HERE? LAND IT HERE. WHY HERE. Because it's there! There's nothing there! LAND IT TIGHT GET IT RIGHT GET IT RIGHT, Get it tight!!! {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

Nevermind, I don't have time for this You see these diamonds in my eyes That means I shine for this Turn water into wine for this Make and serve dinner Bake dessert fiz irst Finish n sip syszurup Skip the slip Lizards Thistwerks biizerk Swerve yer learning curves Ya sure deserve this I don't be counting out bars For the verses Iceberg under the surface | | | You're the worst You deserve the Don't want none of that swag All black No brands All black What's that Don't ask Step back Just look at these hands Inside Outside Slide to the left Uptown Downtown I'm up next I'm a look around for a minute, Then dip Come take a trip Skip: A new mission I got to Turn around Put it down Take a breath Put it back Like damn What's that I run it over and over (uh) I better run for the coast (unh) If it's not open it's closed (it's not open) When it closes another one opens (I don't know) idk 2. Hubble | The Celvet Wave Yous a dick rider I am the decider of deciders I am the inspirer I still go side to side with it I'm higher than the hirer: ‍♀️ I fired you Eyes are getting wider and wider Wisest of the wiser, I sir— I surf-board, I sure does Ride ya Tidal That's the [Title] You can't tell me nothin I throw you in the dumpster I don't want to know you I don't owe you nothin Nonsense! I'm a walking art project You end up in the garbage (uh huh) (Alright ) (You know what it is) What it is— where we going What it is Where we going I was in the 212 Like, “Call me when the sky is blue” Devil is a liar, boo Double multiplier: two (Times two) Made the Times Square a cube! (Times two) (Tututu) I'm not gonna die till my eyes are Nylon Multilinguist, extinguished Klingon, Engllish KonichiwavhThis: My show's on No hoes exposed so I throw some clothes on Improv pros so I blow the show off So swole the whole house come down The whole house come down The whole house come down Woah Hi my blood Heavy like hot rain Waffles & Surup tho First 4 counts, Clips What the FUCK— DEX, (I got no Rolodex, not yet) I thought we were friends! Fuckthatshit (You're my sister, you're a snitch!) BangbangYouredead I'm the bay harbor butcher, Don't push me! That's how it ends (it is what it is) Can't make amends (I'm a genius, I guess) Drop the body Hide the prints! Now you're stuck inside my head I'll be back! No you won't Miami, ocean Deb is gone, now Deb's a ghost Put some rocks in, She no float (Salt water) Illuminati, swear to God (Work harder) Illuminati what the fuck Swear to God I wrote the plot What show you on? The one I wrote Illuminati stole my notes Now I'm Deb, And Deb's a ghost I call him Dexter, He the butcher Take a picture, Slit your *screams* I see what you mean Ice cream truck; First season, Deb's a prostitute, (I'm a COP) Finale season Deb's is gone, Deb's a ghost I am Dexter Slit your throat Illuminati stole my notes! Illuminati bugged my phone Caught me plotting I wrote new blood Woah sir, I'm awesome I know I wrote the plot for this I am not an officer, Not Illuminati Hahaha Charade you are I wrote the plot (Yes you are) Be careful sir! I wrote the plot! Somebody stole my google docs And hacked my phone Now Deb's a ghost Case closed. The case went closed Cause Deb's a ghost Harrison is in Los Angeles My new shit is coming on Not Illuminati God is plotting all the shows I ever wrote Deb is gone, cause Deb's a ghost. Better tha urs Hey victor I licked her Get a taste of my elixir; Like damn, I miss her! You're worthless; Papers, get served Surfs up I just swerved At work, just Do no disturb Put diamonds under this earth You're nervous; Suck my dick, sir Uh! Like damn Wait, this my track Nevermind just roll that back Like Uhh What was the hook Now this is the hook New password: Notebooks Like yeah— What's good? In Brooklyn reppin my hood Like yeah What's good? Alaska, Repping my hood Like yeah, What's good So Cal I'm back in my hood (South Side) Like yeah What's good In Cali Back in my hood (That's my hood) I am the new drill sergeant No McDonald's, bro Don't want that I got oats all on my stomach I got cornbread All in my notebooks Damn Got that? Bananas I make bread That's word— You're pigeons I'm rich, You're broke We're not synonyms; I'm the one who stole your divedends! WOAH What's that? Code words, I'm so indegenous Smoke signals I blow remedies I flow so hoes stay friends with me Snow globe Just don't throw hands at me! Yo! New York shit: Yeeted the pizzas New York shit Eating the pizza. New York shit Back in Manhattan New Person Black don't crack Don't crack Don't crack New hotel Back at the plaza That's a rap I'm a rapper I put the canon in camera Hammer pants Hiding the ass that you can't touch! Hey victor I licked her I'm sick of the metal defectors And shift work Shit hurts Get cursed I just surfed YO. (Loudy) Bubblegum Put em up! This is a stick up So Put em up! Stick you up Bubblegum Bubblegum I pull up Swift, I'm like Taylor I pull up Sticky like bubblegum Stick you up Here I come I got a lot of em, Hats and my habits is bad But I rob you doe Bubblegum Bubblegum Bubblegum Colors on colors But on my rims And my e da? This is chrome I aim at your dome Like “Where are you from?” Bitch are you dumb?! I don't even know you Get me a roll of the bubblegum Some for the homies Now open the drawer Like you're poppin a bubble: Gun/ Bubblegum Bubblegum Bubblegum Look Put em up! This is a stick up So Put em up! Stick you up Bubblegum Bubblegum I pull up Swift, I'm like Taylor I pull up Sticky like bubblegum Stick you up Here I come I got a lot of em, Hats and my habits is bad But I rob you doe Bubblegum Bubblegum Bubblegum Colors on colors But on my rims And my e da? This is chrome I aim at your dome Like “Where are you from?” Bitch are you dumb?! I don't even know you Get me a roll of the bubblegum Some for the homies Now open the drawer Like you're poppin a bubble: Gun/ Bubblegum Bubblegum Bubblegum Look 2 forte Guess the surfs up Watch me surf on Sunday After service (Church on Sundays) Pop up clubs, yuh Pop up all day Pop up /pop-tarts Pop up all day I'm that guy Can't close my eyelids Watch me fly by Friday, I'm up 5 days, ain't no day job makes this pay meant I got places to be I just shapeshift Can't explain this Limited action Guess this is Limited attraction I got limited edition hats In my backsplash, That's clutch Huh You brought a gun to a knife fight One punch man Got 3 hole punch That's right Now I'm up every night I got five eyes Remember that time that you Lied on me Lights on Get this I spin subliminal images Interest in the interest I mutated to Skrillex Get it? The best time to wear a striped sweater: Is never! You better do better, I'm never ever ready for sweater weather Tell Ever Ed Edd and Eddy Get ready for bed, Cause well fed and after dinner Dessert — I'm definitely the bread winner Smirk Shout out to cool herc My heart is purple, cause the world hurts Went into the army and deserted em I probably deserved to win, But I was not as Worth it as her, to sleep with Bitch which side you is in 8 male sandwhiches in My new kitchen Pay attention I love meat, But I don't eat chicken! Click click click I take your picture Paparazzi This is it I guess I'm Michael I'm a thriller I was big But I got thinner— What's up 2 forte Guess the surfs up Watch me surf on Sunday After service (Church on Sundays) Pop up clubs, yuh Pop up all day Pop up /pop-tarts Pop up all day I'm that guy Can't close my eyelids Watch me fly by Friday, I'm up 5 days, ain't no day job makes this pay meant I got places to be I just shapeshift Can't explain this Limited action Guess this is Limited attraction I got limited edition hats In my backsplash, That's clutch Huh You brought a gun to a knife fight One punch man Got 3 hole punch That's right Now I'm up every night I got five eyes Remember that time that you Lied on me Lights on Get this I spin subliminal images Interest in the interest I mutated to Skrillex Get it? The best time to wear a striped sweater: Is never! You better do better, I'm never ever ready for sweater weather Tell Ever Ed Edd and Eddy Get ready for bed, Cause well fed and after dinner Dessert — I'm definitely the bread winner Smirk Shout out to cool herc My heart is purple, cause the world hurts Went into the army and deserted em I probably deserved to win, But I was not as Worth it as her, to sleep with Bitch which side you is in 8 male sandwhiches in My new kitchen Pay attention I love meat, But I don't eat chicken! Click click click I take your picture Paparazzi This is it I guess I'm Michael I'm a thriller I was big But I got thinner— What's up I walk on the boulevard See my name on walk of stars This tattoo my code of arms Now I'm on the walk of stars School of rock All of you Dan suck my cock Rick and Morty M the doctor back to future Now I'm Marty What year you think this sprinter is I don't really give a shit! I want it so I bought it This shit is ten thousand verses “Deliver us from Eva “ What?! She's like, evil, I tell you! Ooh, I've never seen Eva Longoria as a villain before… Kinda. GABY You're not wearing that, are you? Why( what's wrong? Take it off now, Why what's wrong. Take it off now, or I'll kill you. With what, you're like 4 foot— [she rips open her dress revealing a GOD BODY AAAAAAHHH, MY EYES [traffix outside crashes] [plane falls from sky] Kinesthetics. [helicopter crash— Bigfoot is a peeping Tom; falls out of tree] That was worth it. Yeah. V.O. Once you start training in transit trainers, There's no going back. Two waist trainers, really. What, did you really think I was like— Jennifer Aniston I just thought you were two inches fatter. What?! It only adds like a centimeter! A centimeter is two inches on camera. I'm not doing anything on camera. I beg to differ. Don't beg, Jimmy Fallon In that other dimension: PLEASE. NO, PLEASE, just— NO. JIMMU FALLON. I'm not a writer. TINA FEY *gasp* AMY Shuunber —sure. Last night I set a fire ther burned at at lesst 750 degrees 1477 degrees— GO OH SHIT. 13 stories above Brooklyn, Atop of ancient holy lands I'm sure existed some several hundred thousand years ago HERE? LAND IT HERE. WHY HERE. Because it's there! There's nothing there! LAND IT TIGHT GET IT RIGHT GET IT RIGHT, Get it tight!!! {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

In Brooklyn wurde eine jüdische Gemeinde zum Mittelpunkt einer Verschwörungstheorie – es geht um Tunnel, Knochenreste und eine Weltverschwörung. Ein Besuch vor Ort zeigt, wie in sozialen Netzwerken Fakten verdreht werden. In der dritten Folge des Podcasts „Alles Verschwörung?“ wollen die WELT-Reporter Elisabeth Krafft und Florian Sädler wissen, wie sich Verschwörungstheorien verbreiten und welche Rolle das Internet dabei spielt. Sie analysieren, wie radikale Influencer Soziale Medien gezielt einsetzen, um Hass uns Hetze zu verbreiten. Und sie gehen der Frage nach: Kann man den Kampf gegen Verschwörungstheorien im Netz in Zeiten von KI überhaupt noch gewinnen? „Alles Verschwörung?“ ist die dritte Staffel von WELT History. Eine neue Folge erscheint wöchentlich. Mit einem WELTplus-Abo ( https://digital.welt.de) und bei Apple Podcasts hören Sie exklusiv alle fünf Episoden von „Alles Verschwörung?“ bereits jetzt. Hier geht's zum mit KI manipuliertem Video von Mark Zuckerberg: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cnUd0TpuoXI&ab_channel=TimesLIVEVideo Hier zum Deepfake mit Hillary Clinton: https://www.tiktok.com/@red_wave_2024/video/7272795924626197803?_r=1&_t=8kmUZwNCQwS Recherche WELT: Elisabeth Krafft und Florian Sädler  Redaktion WELT: Antonia Beckermann, Sonja Gillert und Elisabeth Krafft  Mitarbeit WELT: Imke Rabiega, Christin Rodrigues, Juliane Schneider  Autorin: Anna Loll  Produktion dpa: Anne Krüger  Produktionsassistenz dpa: Jessica Lichetzki und Jonathan Penschek  Executive Producer dpa: David Krause  Sounddesign & Schnitt: Sebastian Dressel Ein besonderer Dank geht an Stefanie Bolzen, Alexander Dinger, Sven-Felix Kellerhoff, Lennart Pfahler und an das Audio-Team der dpa.    Impressum: https://www.welt.de/services/article7893735/Impressum.html Datenschutz: https://www.welt.de/services/article157550705/Datenschutzerklaerung-WELT-DIGITAL.html

In this special edition crossover between 7pm In Brooklyn and The Right Time, Bomani Jones is joined by Carmelo Anthony and The Kid Mero for a two part podcast. The first half is already available on the 7pm In Brooklyn YouTube and podcast channels for your viewing pleasure. In this second half, Bomani discusses Knicks fandom with Mero and asks Melo about his thoughts on this current teams roster as we approach the playoffs. Then Bomani asks Melo about the comments regarding the fact that he wasn't the best locker room guy during his playing career. After talking about the shift in the modern game of basketball, Bomani finishes the episode by asking Melo and Mero their thoughts on the upcoming playoffs and which teams we should look out for. . . . Subscribe to The Right Time with Bomani Jones on Spotify, Apple or wherever you get your podcasts and follow the show on Instagram, Twitter, and Tik Tok for all the best moments from the show. Download Full Podcast Here: Spotify:  https://open.spotify.com/show/6N7fDvgNz2EPDIOm49aj7M?si=FCb5EzTyTYuIy9-fWs4rQA&nd=1&utm_source=hoobe&utm_medium=social Apple:  https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-right-time-with-bomani-jones/id982639043?utm_source=hoobe&utm_medium=social Follow The Right Time with Bomani Jones on Social Media:  https://hoo.be/righttimebomani Support the Show:  PrizePicks: Daily Fantasy Made Easy! Visit PrizePicks.com/BOMANI and use code BOMANI for a first deposit match up to $100! Head to shadyrays.com and use code: BOMANI for 50% off 2 or more pairs of polarized sunglasses. Try for yourself the shades rated 5 stars by over 300,000 people. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In Brooklyn, a standout family law firm excels in high net asset divorces, focusing on child custody and support with unmatched expertise and compassion. Their seasoned attorneys navigate complex cases, prioritizing children's welfare and equitable asset distribution, setting a new standard in legal excellence. Levoritz Law Firm City: New York Address: 140 Broadway Website: https://levoritzlaw.com/

In Brooklyn, an audience gathered and was treated to a gorgeous provocative evening of poetry, music, and banter/improvisation. Support the show

The Kid Mero joins the show to discuss his new podcast with Carmelo Anthony, ‘7pm In Brooklyn', how he balances all of his projects, the Lakers fan popping his achilles, kids these days, and more. #volumeSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

The Kid Mero joins the show to discuss his new podcast with Carmelo Anthony, ‘7pm In Brooklyn', how he balances all of his projects, the Lakers fan popping his achilles, kids these days, and more. #volumeSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In Brooklyn, New York, Levi and guest Pieter continue their discussion on Menachem Schneerson and what the Jewish Chabad movement believes about atonement and the Messiah.

Billy Joel – "Piano Man" "Piano Man" war der Startschuss für Billy Joels Karriere in den USA: Mit über 4 Millionen verkauften Exemplaren wurde das Album 4-fach Platin ausgezeichnet. Das Jahr 1973 war ein ziemlich guter Meilensteine Jahrgang: "The Dark Side of the Moon" von Pink Floyd, "Innervisions" von Stevie Wonder, "Quadrophenia" von The Who – und dann waren da noch die beiden Piano Männer: Elton John mit seinem Meisterwerk "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" und Billy Joel als die amerikanische Antwort auf den englischen Musiker. "Piano Man" erscheint am 9. November 1973 und ist bereits Billy Joels zweites Album, die erste blieb leider erfolglos. Ein kleine Plattenfirma, wenig Budget und ein Tontechniker, der die Platte auch noch auf der falschen Geschwindigkeit überspielt... sie war damit praktisch unverkäuflich. Doch Joel gab nicht auf... "Das Album war für Billy Joel selbst wirklich ein Meilenstein, weil er damit endlich aus dieser Erfolglosigkeit rauskam." (SWR1 Musikredakteur Niels Berkefeld) Die Geschichte hinter "Piano Man" "Piano Man" wurde auch die allererste Single, die er rausgebracht hat. Der Song, seine Art zu singen und zu spielen und dieser spezielle Sound haben ihn als Künstler definiert und letztlich auch etabliert. Der Titel ist wie viele Songs auf dem Album autobiographisch. Er beschreibt eine Szene in einer Bar, in der die Menschen rumhängen und immer betrunkener werden, währenddessen er dafür zuständig ist sie zu unterhalten und für sie zu spielen. "Er hatte eine unglaubliche Gabe Leute zu beobachten und daraus Geschichten zu erzählen." (SWR1 Musikchef Bernd Rosinus) Billy Joels Autobiographie Joel stammt aus einer jüdischen Familie, er ist halb deutsch, halb englisch.1938 flieht sein jüdischer Vater unter dem Nazi-Regime nach Amerika. Dort lernt er Joels zukünftige englische Mutter kennen. In Brooklyn geboren, ging er später für einige Zeit nach Kalifornien. Dort entstand auch die Platte "Piano Man". Heute lebt er wieder in einem schönen Anwesen in Long Island. 2008 bat Billy Joel den amerikanischen Musikjournalisten Fred Schruers, ihm beim Verfassen seiner Autobiografie zu helfen. Die beiden verbrachten laut Hannibal Verlag über einhundert Stunden damit, intensiv über Joels Leben zu sprechen: über seine Kindheit in Long Island, über seine Erfahrungen als Boxer, über seine gescheiterte Ehe mit Christie Brinkley und den Kampf gegen seine Drogensucht – und natürlich auch über seine Karriere und Songs. "Zuhause" im Madison Square Garden 1993 veröffentlicht Joel sein letztes Album "River of Dreams". Seither schreibt er im Grunde genommen nicht mehr, komponiert Instrumentalmusik. 2007 brachte er dann seine letzte Single "All My Life" raus, die jedoch nicht an seine bisherigen großen Erfolge anknüpfen konnte. Seit 2014 spielte er mit wenigen Ausnahmen monatlich im Madison Square Garden in New York und er sagte immer, dass er das so lange machen möchte, bis keiner mehr kommt. (Anmerkung der Redaktion: Die Location fasst etwa 20.000 Menschen). Doch nach etwa 150 Konzerten in knapp zehn Jahren und dabei mehr als 1,6 Millionen verkauften Tickets soll nun Schluss sein. 2024 will Joel seine berühmte monatliche Auftrittsserie im Madison Square Garden beenden. Ab dem 20. Oktober soll es nochmal zehn letzte monatliche Konzerte geben. (Quelle: dpa) __________ Shownotes Classic Rock Review: Billy Joel – "Piano Man": https://www.classicrockreview.com/2013/01/1973-billy-joel-piano-man/ Youtube-Kanal von Billy Joel: https://www.youtube.com/@billyjoelReview zu "Piano Man" von Allmusic.com: https://www.allmusic.com/album/piano-man-mw0002012463ARD Audiothek: Billy Joel – viel mehr als der "Piano Man" (Musiktalk mit Peter Urban): https://www.ardaudiothek.de/episode/urban-pop-musiktalk-mit-peter-urban/billy-joel-viel-mehr-als-der-piano-man/ndr/96609996/ Buchtipp: Die Billy Joel Biographie: http://www.hannibal-verlag.de/cgi-bin/WebObjects/TXTSVHannibal2.woa/640/wo/gX5MPxNSQ4g12Ve0k5uL1qgEyJH/2.0.SuperPage.11.1.5.1.1.11.1.0.1.0.BoxArticleSmall.1.1.0__________ Über diese Songs vom Album "Piano Man" wird im Podcast gesprochen (01:01) – "Piano Man"(07:11) – "Travelin' Prayer"(13:04) – "Ain't No Crime"(16:59) – "You're My Home"(18:44) – "The Ballad Of Billy The Kid"(23:00) – "Somewhere Along The Line"(24:16) – "Captain Jack"__________ Über diese Songs wird außerdem im Podcast gesprochen (02:03) – "Flying Through the Air" von Oliver Onions __________ Ihr wollt mehr Podcasts wie diesen? Abonniert die SWR1 Meilensteine! Fragen, Kritik, Anregungen? Schreibt uns an: meilensteine@swr.de

New Jersey officials are suing to halt New York City's congestion pricing plan which would charge drivers entering Manhattan south of 60th street. In Brooklyn, migrants who established a tent encampment under the BQE are in the process of being relocated. Finally, a judge is blocking a pay increase for thousands of gig food delivery workers a day before the it was set to take effect. Sean Carlson speaks with Patricia Campos-Medina from The Worker Institute at Cornell University about the controversy surrounding the wage law.

SEASON 6 ACT III - Part II Oh no. I told you, this was a bad idea DONT CHECK THE— It's too late. “A Writing Assignment” Fuxk. This is bad. I'M GONNA DIE LIKE THIS. Well, it's Brooklyn—there's gonna be a fire escape and a rooftop. This is creeper level 9000 Whatever. Where'd the bass go? I've lost my sense of direction I'm mad I can't have you, It's candid I shouldn't be out here like this l I should have gone to Manhattan Are you mad, man— At the mad hatter! At the course of action in this rendition fuxk, it is Skrillex. I just went to look for Kayla Lauren. Got hit with the other one instead. “I insist, do it this way” Better get a good picture, Better get a good fix on your riches Maybe this is why my scar was lighting up all morning Maybe that's the reason I was off. Without my phone all day. Maybe that's the reason I was fasting. Good Goddamnit man, You're awful good at acting Awful good at grabbing ass, And awful good at dancing Awful good at making friends And awful good at First things first, And first things last, and after— Amsterdam I never guessed where York was at I never asked I never asked I never asked FUCK. What, man. I think Skrillex listens to my podcast. Well, that's, uh. Fuck that. Fuxk that. Fuck that. Well, that's one hell of a flex. It's a pop up. I just had a dream about surfing. Better stop, God. There might be a show for every day of the week. I'm still weak in the knees. I don't know what I need. I'm still a mothafuckin Skrillex fiend. Have a nice dream. Have some ice cream. There's the ice queen. That's been three times since my eye started bleeding. I thought I was just an MC, Or a DJ, I might take the soul train But don't have a ticket Thanks. Now whose the dick. Well , I'm just taking pictures. How's Dillon Francis. Now that's a priority. I can't ShaZam from out here, you know. I called my dad. I thought you had no family. Same thing as having no home, or, No where to go, I'm no homer, I'm sitting here, hopeless, outside or your show— Not hoping to see you, or anything I'll be you, inside my dreams, Sequels for everything Sequences, sequins and diamon rings, Sequoias and I still have feelings for I still have feelings for Feelings for everything This is the weakest I've been since I needed you 2019 was the year that the hero Was broke Well. That's it. What. That's the whole thing. Can't be the whole thing Do you want to take a half, or a whole thing Do you want to wear the pants, or the whole ring Should I take a flight to France, or to Oakland Stuck in a chokehold, God, I'm too old for this God, I just want to go home; Here's a long rope to hang your self with— Now I'm locked up in homeroom I lost it all once, got it all at the pawnshop For $96 dollars— The original price tag, of course, read $115 though. I honestly thought I never wanted to see Skrillex again, but as it turned out— as I was, of course, trying to connect with closure, snooping into Instagram just to find evidence or romance, which I did—not that I needed anything more than a glance to ensure my own insanity—and it was that, insanity. Don't do it. —but it's Valentine's Day. Don't do it. Goddamnit, I hate this. I hadn't been up this early without not having gone to bed since I arrived on the east coast; I woke up promptly around 8 with lyrics in my brain and music in my head; it had been a long and strange night, with no dreams at all—at least none that I could remember, and it had been long since I had woken up with anything in my mind besides fear and panic. I refused to turn on my phone, quickly reaching for my notebook and a pen before the song would leave my mind—I had a lot of work to do, and for whatever reason I actually felt like doing it; I at least had the train ride to Manhattan to think about what I should be thinking about, or to unravel from whatever I was wrapped up in, even if it was just myself. This is not a coincidence This is not a drill; Of course, now— I feel like the villain; To swallow Dillon like a pill But In the end, though, Nothing's real, And nothing changes, Nothing will I should be working on my will I think of jumping— What a thrill I'm busy thumping, humphing Rumbling, mumbling about something And someday never comes, But Sunday does, And Sonny shows up Monday— I feel dumb, and awkward, suddenly— I'm just an awkward cunt; That's what the prophet wrote Upon the wall In Brooklyn, Out on Broadway, Where I was, Before the fall off; I gave my dad a call, And then my son— That's all that love was I showed up with my whole heart in my pocket What a long walk; What an alter, Whatever the sun does When he doesn't watch I'm Sasquatch, But it's water, starch, And crunches ‘This is not a coincidence.' I had spent the day before, valentines day, combing through my belongings meticulously—I was due to check out the following morning, and without much thought I had thought of another extension, which would of course diminish the last of my money, but at least warrant another couple nights safe and warm. I hadn't made any sense to look for a normal job-not only would the process or getting hired take up all the rest of my time, but it would be two to three weeks before I would receive any kind of paycheck at all—and with such little time left living indoors, It didn't make sense to try. I had been stranded in New York since a arrived on the 4th, and though it had nearly been two weeks, I hadn't any luck in landing any gigs or performances. Jetro of course was still waiting with Blame Society records in Rome for my arrival, I hadn't even thought to notify him of the lack of such, as I partially blamed even alerting him that I was on my way via instragrwm for the flight delay that had caused me to miss my train, which of course caused me to miss my plane, landing me stuck in a hostile, cruel, and homeless USA. I carry, or Hold no stones for you; Haven't I a heart left It's the darkest of all the hours, And here you are, again— Not near, or far, But a bet is a bet, An eye for an eye And a head for a head And you're so far ahead, I've yet to catch up yet I have a gift for your daughter, Often, I've thought of her Lost in New York, No glass houses, It's just brick and mortar She calls me retarded, my mother So I haven't called her I just keep running north I just keep running my mouth on this podcast I just keep thinking that someone's my long lost love, at last You dirty bastard I'm an asshole: Handsome, Hanzel is In case it mattered Everyone's a fucking actor Look at that girl And look at that And look at that And look at that girl And look at that And look at that You took my whole world Turned it upside down And bottled up my love l You never told me where the bottle was But showed me what a model was And after that I fell in love with Something about doing drugs and Coming up with love to give to others Turning pigeons into doves And wishing I could just be nothin' —cause my life was fuckin loveless —and I thought you were my husband (Fuck Kayla Lauren; But I guess I gotta love her, Cause she's human) I took my time getting ready, no time, actually, in comparison to how slowly I had been moving throughout the week, and although I had been to the gym daily, I was worn, and tired—and coming up empty on all fronts. It was 10:14 or so by the time I finally made my way to the subway, ‘I'm still off', I thought— but not only couldn't I depressively sulk and lay in bed the way I thought I would or even maybe wanted to, I had been lifted out of my sleep and on my way to Equinox with a startling force—though I shouldn't have at all been suprised; this, whether consciously or not, I realized, had always happened when it came to the matter of the mysterious Sonny Moore. ‘Fuck' It was late evening Monday before the anxiety started to set in, and for some reason had been the reason I had decided to turn on my phone, to extend my reservation another couple days, buying time in comfort and warmth, on the freedom of privacy, which I had done nothing with but rest and try to be whole again, whatever that was—and whatever it meant. I had been cooking for the first time in months, stretching, and meditating the ways that only seemed to come natural when having my own time and space —and though it wasn't wholly my own, it was clean, peaceful, and quiet—included it's very own space heater, and was decorated in my favorite color blue. My host was an actual working professional who had succeeded in the entertainment industry—which of course made me jealous, but I at the very least had done my best to network and perhaps nitpick an easygoing cash job out of it “I have some connections”, she had piped—and so, with that in mind, I had sent her my links; and of course, with my extension being the reason for even having turned on my phone, was quick to check my text messages to see if there had been any movement with the booking agent she had supposedly sent my information to. “I gave him your Instagram, and so he'll probably reach out to you through there if he's interested.” I hated Instagram and it seemed to hate me, even before the devastating discovery of what a Kayla Lauren was, it had always seemingly been algorithmically programmed to make me hate myself, always spamming my feed with skinny white girls with blue eyes, which I only hated, admittedly out of bitter loneliness—the guys I seemed to like and fall for had always seemed to go for that type—white, skinny, blue eyes or some variation of the “ideal” standard of beauty, especially by Californian standards—and so I had always taken long breaks from it, shielding myself from self hatred: my absolute theory becoming that Instagram was an algorithm built for population control, preying on the weak and insecure, and probably attributing to more suicides than anyone had noticed or cared for. Lil biiiiiitz You know what else is weird about New York. People eat on the subway. They eat in the train station. They just— It's kind of gross; at least to me. Of course, the trains in New York are a lot cleaner. Sometimes the station even smells like bleach. That's so cool. Still don't want to eat in there. That's weird. INT. CHAUNCEY STREET. SUNDOWN | VALENTINES DAY BLŪ waits patiently for Instagram to download, sighing heavily as she waits; As it has finished, she rolls her eyes and opens the app, squinting and pursing her lips as she quickly checks for messages: only adds, nothing important. BLŪ Of course, no messages. Psh. She exits the app, thinking for a moment before re-opening it. Don't do it. SEARCH: Sk— INSTAGRAM skrillex You never learn. BLŪ watches the story, for the most part, unenthused—until TONIGHT: BROOKLYN NEW YORK. BLŪ AGH! The phone flies from her hand and onto the bed as she seizes, flying back and hitting the wall with a thud—then dramatically backing up into the closet, closing both doors and exclaiming in the darkness BLŪ (CONT'D) I'm gonna die like this. OH NO. HE'S IN BROOKLYN?! RIGHT NOW?! SKRILLEX I'M IN BROOKLYN. RIGHT NOW. WHY WOULD HE BE IN BROOKLYN. I'M IN BROOKLYN. (heavy New York accent) I'M IN BROOKLYN. (even heavier New York accent) I'M IN BROOKLYN. (*hawks loogie, spits*) [very ugly cry] I was expecting to see some cheesy picture like I had just a couple years before—or however long it had been. So much time had passed and I had no doubt there was still more and that I wouldn't be seeing Sonny tonight, or even anytime soon—still, I was headed towards the rooftop to collect my stones, and though the tickets were sold out and there were said to be none at the door, I was headed for the train before I even knew why, or what was happening. Well, he's out of the basement. BITCH GET OUT THE ATTICK I'm in the closet now, I had a heart attack, I'm in a panic You need a manual? This is a stick shift This is some sick shit Click click, bitch I got witches in automatic Automatic It was 11:11 AM; I had never been to Manhattan so early before, at least not from Brooklyn; I knew my way to Equinox Sports club easily by now, without getting lost, or much hassle; it was an easy one hour train ride—and this morning, even easier; the writing came automatically, rather than forced, as it had been, and the ride went by almost too quickly, despite a full train and a flurry of emotions I worked heartfully to keep in check. ‘This changes nothing.' , I thought, more awestruck than anything and trying to convince myself nothing had changed, though something certainly had. Manhattan looked even better in the daylight—clear and sunny, and even a bit warm; babies in strollers and dogs on leashes and for a moment or two, I might have even forgotten I was homeless, dropping 2.5 Jimmy Fallons on a piping hot coffee at the shop I had always passed, but was never open. I would be at Sports Club until close, as I had planned to be all week but had always fallen short of, struck with jet lag and crippling depression at the same time—but today, and even if it was for the best that I couldn't seem to get exactly what I wanted, If even just out of sheer disbelief, I had at least been shaken out of my tomb, if only for a moment, and into work mode, still grieving the self I had lost in the collision of stardust and superstardom, fame, and misfortune—tears still on the brink of rolling down my cheek, and the cost of sicccess a grueling question burning somewhere between my still bleeding heart, and somewhere in the back of my mind. ‘Its like a fucked up cheaper by the dozen' And I still haven't frgotten about Dillon Francis, But Sonny seems to fuck me up a bit, —and then some It's just an addendum: I flipped the script and went dumb Here's my number, Christopher Columbus; And a bumper sticker Still a nigger Still a nothing trying to make it bigger Still a little off my rocker, Like I bought, at Cracker Barrel I'm still scared of marriage, Mind my manners, like Harriet Tubman Somebody's up to somethin' Better suck it up and get some crunches in Before I go to lunch And jump from too high up Or hang off of some bridge Just to get to the dimension Where it's Skrillex in the picture With Dillon standing next to him, And I'm just in the middle, Front and center With an Emmy Win An Oscar nomination, And a Tony, where my Grammy is: A curio cabinet I had custom fashioned for my bathroom; Next to the magazine rack, actually— Where I'm on every cover wearing fabrics I myself imagined, shining like a dragon eating laffy taffy; Fuck, I Suck at mathematics, —But I finally got my masters degree. Nice. Jeez, It would be tragic to have it all go up in ashes Lighting matches just to get the smell of gas to shatter— Or to dissipate, I estimate I'm 40 minutes late, But if I make it, I'll get naked on the plane, For heaven's sake. What the fuck is this. Some Sunnï Blū shit, I guess. “I guess.” I'm still mad at the world, I'm still mad at your girl, for being better than me So mad I could hurl, But I'm still fasting, actually; It's intermittent, In a minute, I might turn to Skrillex, Talk to Fred Again Then take some medicine And finally finish, like- “I did it” Oh look, it's Fred. Yep. Oh. Hi. It's Fred Again. That's me. Oh. Hey there. It's Fred..Again. Fucking a. JIMMY THE MOBSTER Alright, Jimmy—you sick sonofabitch. JIMMY FALLON —just kill me already. JIMMY THE MOBSTER WHERE IS IT. JIMMY FALLON Where is what. JIMMY THE MOBSTER YOU KNOW WHAT. JIMMY FALLON I don't know what. JIMMY THE MOBSTER —my medallion. JIMMY FALLON You were wearing a medallion? JIMMY THE MOBSTER I'M ALWAYS WEARING MY MEDALLION JIMMY FALLON How am I supposed to know that JIMMY THE MOBSTER there's only me and you here— JIMMY FALLON you know what they say—threes a crowd— JIMMY THE MOBSTER Listen, Jimmy Fallon, you illiterate motherfucker! JIMMY FALON I'm not illiterate; I'm very well read. JIMMY THE MOBSTER oh yeah! What was the last book you read? JIMMY FALLON … JIMMY THE MOBSTER …that's what I thought. [beat] JIMMY THE MOBSTER grabs JIMMY FALLON by the shoulders abrasively JIMMY THE MOBSTER (CONT'D) WHERE'S MY MEDALLION, JIMMY!?! JIMMY FALLON I DON'T—KNOW! JIMMY THE MOBSTER YOU DO KNOW! JIMMY FALLON NO, I DONT—you blindfolded and kidnapped me! JIMMY THE MOBSTER I kidnapped you?! C'mon' you're like 50- JIMMY FALLON I'm 42. JIMMY THE MOBSTER —I snatched you. “Snached” hm. I like that. MEANWHILE, in HOLLYWOOD This is a serious job… It's a job. A serious job. I'll take it. Wtf is this dude into. Whippets and women— Like every-other Hollywood nigga Stop using the n'word. It makes white people uncomfortable. Imagine what it's like being called the n word like it's your name. FLASHBACK BEVERLY HILLS, CALIFORNIA PRODUCER YOURE JUST A NIGGER SLAVE. (That actually happened.) Anyway. As you can see, or might have guessed, I'm desperate for attention, Sonny followed me to Brooklyn, But never even mentioned it: I should have figured he was listening, When I heard Renaissance, And lost the mixtape that I did That Skrillex took it off of Glad It didn't win the Grammy I'd be mad if it had. Cause I was on it! Not Exactly. Swear to God, I might have lost it, Heard applause and started walking Nodded off, And woke up in a coffin Coughs, What a photographer. DILLON FRANCIS has been buried alive, inside of a coffin. I love this scene. He really is a good actor. (In my mind.) Dude, you are creep level 1 Billion. Whatever, he followed me to Brooklyn. I am you. You know what, That is something I would do if I was stupid rich and… And what. I had fallen in love with Sonny Moore, not at first sight—but at first glance; it seemed he had been quite literally tossed into my broken and shattered world, and— What, I'm an animal! Did you fuck? Should I have? I would have. I know you would have. I'm not Annie; She is pretty, and fun; An addict, an alcoholic And formerly, my other half When I was one, But now I'm half of half of half And then some; I've been numb, I've never felt like this, Since I've been struck. I guess if I drink, I'll be a big drunk; And If I die before I ever wake I'll be in big luck Honestly, After Kayla Lauren, I didn't give a fuck Been thinking of jumping, Then something hit me like a big truck I love eating. There was some sort of event on the basketball court at Sports Club; I had been there already two entire hours, and spent most of it in the sauna, still followed by coughing people, I knew I still wasn't out or the heap of madness or broken from any spell or curse it might have been — and it wasn't fair, I wasn't fair skinned, and it didn't make a difference at all what had happened; I still wanted to end it. I'm losing my mind again Losing a light again Losing my light, But if I run to find it I just might I just might —I'll fly like a kite. He's trying to kill me. He's not doing a bad job. Don't know what i'm working towards; Don't know what i'm running for— Don't know about Sonny Moore (He's not for me;) Or so I thought before, therefore— I take metformin I'm still homeless, Searching for a metaphor, An aquafir, And somewhere to plug my phone in (Better than being ignored and drinking tap water, On the fourth floor) Housing is a human right I hate this place It's just not right I'm sick of fighting I'm not racist; Just not fucking white enough To run for red and right; I guess I'm blū then. I could be crying in the sauna. But I guess I'm writing you a message It's just a bullet in my head It's just another lesson It's just another test, at best It's just an algorithm; Go back to my nest And rest for just a minute This is season 6 of Legends, Now I'm turning to a villain I keep coming up with Skrillex, But I gave my heart to Dillon Here's a tiny violin; It's getting violent since intermission Ultraviolet light, And impolite fixations, Revelations, Realizations, Revolutions, Reservations Let's set a date then— Is it fucking coughs, Or is it Satan? I hate this. You would want to jump in front of a train, too If for years. No matter what you did or where you went People came around you and just started coughing That's such an evil fucking thing to experience For someone who never wanted anything But to be loved But was always too fat Too black And just altogether too anything to ever experience love, joy, and happiness the way other people do And so, it must be hell Cause all I do is love, and love, and love And just get shit on And coughed at And called retarded And falling short of success I'm not heartless I just carry rocks around And get followed by coughing bodies My life fuckin sucks, man I just want to turn the simulation off, And on again I just want to take a long nap, And wake up in the arms of a man I just want a booking manager, And an orgasm. And a ham sandwhich, And my land back, And to be happy Or maybe like half a xanex Wanna throw myself down on the train tracks I want a can of spam and pancakes Like breakfast made by my dad I want to hold hands, And a whole home, with a landing pad Or maybe just an address, and a gas lamp Or a campfire Timestamp that. This is the third and final act. I can't fall for this again— Another rich and handsome man— A dream he wants to be my friend A dream he wants to hold my hand Oh look, Another dance for anthem Look, I'm just another fan No, I can't fall for this again —but they would go against the plan A simple programming error, Lips the color of a pomagranite Circle on the palm, And then , of course, We press the center And look, here we are again Another life, Another love A new wife— Another husband Honest? I'm just good with fucking —aha I just want to fuck you I got love, but what it good for Look at me, or look at nothing! Look, I'm just good with fucking Check the news for new engagements Fucking sick and fucking tragic Nothing more than actors, DJs, drinks and addicts Look, I'm just a happy accident— I still hate Dillon Francis And I never wanted Skrillex: That shit never even happened! Have you had enough yet?! Carrot cake does sound good Ten karat long engagement ring— Is that a lot? I'm just a homeless Look, I'm just another DJ Some fake model stole it Some would call it occult Magic —honest? I just want some dick, man Fuck it —aha I just want to fuck you I got love, but what it good for Look at me, or look at nothing! Look, I'm just good with fucking You know why you like me?! Yes, I know why I like you— Cause I'm rich! —no, actually—it's because you're smart. Where in the fuck are you going? I don't know yet. Well, know faster—we have company. Fuck. Destroy every bit of evidence. Ok. —and make sure nobody sees you. Yeah, right! YO. Why the fuck are you here, Timmy? I told you, I'm not Timmy. I don't give a fuck who you are—where's my money? It's— it's on the way, I promise. I'm don't take well tk promises, Timmy. What do you take well to? Money. FUCK. What! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! What?! We're too late, she's gone! Goddammit. —She was already here! FUCK. FUCK. FUCK! >>> FUCK! How do you know? —there's glitter, everywhere. Is it gone? It's gone? ALL OF IT. TIMMY TRUMPET plays a SKRILLEX. Etto, Timmy?! Oh shit, another Timmy. That's weird. I was just thinking he about Skrillex. Why. Timmy, put a shirt on. That's it. What. You can't be hot and play the trumpet. Why. One thing's gotta go. THE DEVIL takes away Timmy Trumpet's ability to play the trumpet. WHAT. Can't have both. Well, I don't really need both now, do I? When I'm in a tough spot I have to listen to deadmau5 —something about the precision and frequencies out my brain somewhere between auropilot and dead space. I don't know. I've done just about everything you can think of listening to deadmau5. Almost. But, I noticed— Working out to deadmau5 is strange. It puts me in some kind of vibration where people notice me— Not just notice me. People are suddenly “impressed” with whatever it is I'm doing. And it's usually something regular as fuck— I'm just doing it to deadmau5. And for some reason, people are like “Wooooow!!” Okay, whatever. I used to work out to Skrillex. Actually. I used to work out to only Skrillex. I don't know if its just because I was fat, or cause I liked Skrillex. Now its like running a serrated knife up my spine. I started to figure out I was kind of famou— Kind of— When I showed up at the gym and Skrillex songs kept coming on I'm like “This is what I get for doing nothing but free trials” But hey, You try finding a gym in the shitty areas of New York worth paying for. It's very hard. The crazy thing about this story is— There's a lot of crazy things about this story, actually. EXT. BASKETBALL COURT. DAY. Alright— shirts and skins —Shirt—Skin Shirt,Skin— Uhh! Nah. I wanna be “shirts” Why dude?! Your girl's mad hot! So?! So I know you got it goin on! Look at you! I'm mad rich! Yeah—but girls always cheat on flabby rich dudes! With hotter dudes. My girlfriend might be cheating on me! Yeah—She's not, though. How do you know? Cause I tried! Yeah. Take your shirt off. No—uh! How do you know she's just not into you! Because! He tried— HE tried! You sell out. And Andre tried— [ANDRE is tall (about 6'9 dark, and handsome] —you too, bro? [ANDRE shrugs nonchalantly] That's an NBA player— What the FUCK, YO. —and she said NO. ANDRE Yup. Shot me down. Oh really—from all the way up there?! Face it, man! You're fuckin hot! I don't like the way that sounds coming from you— Take your shirt off! Were you this aggressive with my girl?! Don't be like that… Nah— fuck you! Yo! C'mon, man— And you three! You're holding up the game getting mad over nothing. It's Hollywood! It's Beverly Hills! —Exactly my point! You're new here—you'll catch on. You know what! I'm shirts—you're skins—Game on. [SUNNI BLU goes beast mode and plays the dirtiest, most whoopass game in history—out of spite and anger of the toxic masculinity; this of course earns SUNNI BLU even more respect as a “man's man”] Later: as the owner of the clippers, sunni BLU trades “Andre” to the worst basketball team in history. For, As soon as the moon is full, She also begins to wane— And as sure as we are to shine, We also fade away I had one slice of red velvet cake, one slice of cheesecake—which of course only reminded me of Sonny Moore—the decadent, delicious red velvet—and Dillon Francis—the spiced and ecclectic trademark carrot cake—if only not to sooty the pain of joe much I wanted both of them, but probably didn't need them—how I craved them so, but they probably weren't good for me, nor would they last— —but they would both be delicious, anyhow. The seagull said. “To the sea, we go!” Overhead, he flies As the day goes by me Idly, I wait— I could take a ride, But i'd rather be By myself, By my… INT. EMPIRE ENPANADAS. NIGHT You gonna order? What you got? Empanadas. Just empanadas? —Yeah. Okay, that's weird. Lol the only thing funny about this scene is that their New York accents are so atrociously heavy. Right. —weird. INT. SUBWAY STATION. DAY. Sunni BLU is passed out in the subway station. Ew… Yeah, my god. Wait—is that— —sunni?! SUNNI drunkenly groans. Sunni! Get up! Ughhhh. What are you doing?! I'm drunk. I know that. You're always drunk. Yeah. What are you doing here. What. In the subway. I do this sometimes. What. For what?! You never know who you're gonna meet. In the subway On the floor?! YeH! I met R- Kelly down here! What! When was this Not at this station, though, but yeah. To think, It was all just an awful game, to make you write more songs— And in the end, if you don't make the cut They just make you kill yourself, anyway. Love isn't real, but money is; And all men want is money, So they can buy the love— And all women want is love— But it has to come with money Or it all just falls apart It all just falls apart It all just falls apart “Illuminatus”, Open, close Illuminaudio, for starters Cross a crucifix for sons, and wanted daughters What's a brother to a sister— Or a mother to a father? What's a stop sign to a car, If no one's driving? In the end, they kill you off In the end, they kill you off With every cough, they kill you off— But there's always another Who wants to be a star— Or just The mother of his child, Maybe both Genetic lotto luck —the cut off. Agatha… A far cry, out into the distance–a wind, almost a whisper; A lover, long gone and almost since forgotten, unseen since the very dawn of time and first ever glimpse of light– …We Meet Again. FUCK. WHAT IS THIS. I know, man. FUCK. Fuck. Well, are you gonna tell this story or not? This isn't possible. It is possible. This isn't happening. – This dude has a radio tower in his front yard. That's his front yard?! I fucking guess. What is that. That's a satilite. Nice. Yep. Alright, you son of a bitch. Hey! My mom's nice! Not that nice–bringing you here. How do you know that's how I got here? Exactly my point. [cocks pistol slowly.] You're dead, mouse. OH. I GET IT. kill that motherfucker. Wait. Hold up. Hold the phone! Holding. How did we get to this point? I mean– a few ways. What are you watching. SHH. Wedon'tknow. SHHH. OK! SHHHHHHH! IT' getting good. Ya. It's getting deeper. So much deeper. WAit. … Who are you? I'm a fan. No. How did you get in my house? It's my house. It's– –no. No, it's not. YEs. this is my house. No. What. GEt out. SHH. What. DUde– No. Ze show is on and it is getting one deeper. Be quiet. IT's getting two deeper. –like nine deeper. SHHH. Oh, I get it. She really wants to fuck Dillon Francis. #FuckDillonFrancis Uh, no– I already did that. Gross. Excuse me. You are excused! I mean, I beg your pardon. Please, don't beg. Er, uh– Could you repeat that last part? Woah, this gets multidimensional as fuck. I have a time machine. Are there any loopholes? There are loopholes. THere better be loopholes. Sorry, we're out. GodDAMMIT. What. I was really looking forward to those loopholes. Well, they're gone. FUCK. HEre, have some Oh-Noh's. I don't want– Just SHUT UP and EAT YOUR CEREAL. Don't worry–I'm still Team Skrillex. There are TEAMS?! Oh, yeah, bro. Oh, so–it is a love story. I don't think that's what this is. I'M GONNA MURDER YOU. Ok. WITH MY DICK. A-1. There's something I need to tell you. What. But i'm sworn to secrecy Then how am I supposed to– Just–shh– follow my lead. “The Magic Effect.” Did it work? Don't know yet. You nutted to this girl 36 times in the last 20 Calendar days. Ok… 36 Times. One Girl. 20 Days. …What's your point. This is ferocious. I have your entire internet history. All of it? Oh yes. All of it. Welp. Well. THat's it for me. I've had enough. There's no Skrillex Deepfake. Aw. that sux. Why would you look at this? …why not, though? You're a disturbed man. I'm pretty regular. REGULR TO WHO? *shrugs* Me, I guess. TURN THIS OFF. I can't take it anymore. Whatever happened to the– SHHH. Fuck. I'm so wasted. So what do you think is gonna happen? Listen. I have a lot to get through. THis is all just nonsense. I think we're avoiding some heavy subjects, here. Well, there are a lot of discrepancies. Kill yourself. I just did. Kill yourself–again. I–GodDAMMIT. Just do it. NO. Come on. Congratulations, you got the job! Yes! Thank you! …What's the job? I need you to get the fuck out of here in the next five seconds–before I blow my head off, and take you with me. Don't do that. Five… Yo, i'm serious. Four… Jesus Christ, dude. YOu don't think this hits a little close to home. Home? what is home? For the Record, Skrillex, Dillon Francis, and Deadmau5 respectively are all getting their dicks sucked on yachts right now in some foreign exotic country– You're not wrong. That is correct. Standard music business. And People are living in tents under bridges. I'm just saying. If you think this project is reckless and bizarre, check your own simulation. So. So. Where were we? Somewhere between blowing our heads off and getting our dicks sucked? I'm sure there's a striking correlation somewhere. ‘My Candle Burns At Both Ends…' Oh, More Occult Magic God Bless The Illuminati GOD I Am The Illuminati Glad that's settled. Three. Goddamit, don't do this. Two– [cocks pistol] Why just pistols. Cause shotguns are messy– –and for dramatic effect; I love that sound. [the other party quickly removes his handgun from his waistband, shooting the other man and then himself quickly; They now both lay dead.] How do I write this Just write it. I need adderall. You need Jesus. By goD, youre right. [iPhone] What are you doing? Calling on Jesus. Are you serious. He's the plug. Ugh. I need adderall. What did I do?! YOu know what you did. ∆ Well, alright then. ∆ Must be something. ∆ I got it. “The Legend of Supacree” L E G E N D S “Tales of A Superstar DJ” To do: Cut Freaky Friday 001 Cut Throwback Thursday 001 Cut SOM III Part I {God Is God] Part II [Clockwork] –Pull 212 Remix It's far beyond my control I get out of my head and into my soul In one ear, never out the other If the wind blew down your door, How would I call for you? —Through her, I suppose And the silk of her hair, Or the satin of her dress, — Oh, it's almost admissible, Surely admirable, Worth a smile or not, That all the world is words, In the end, As I tear down my worlds, and start over from One And I've already stopped enough once for today, I think Surely, what you'd like is just The time to get it all to nothing (Never had I wanted it or needed it) The phone was ringing, But I'll never be off the hook again, If you look for the proper way to move forward, You'll never find it, Especially looking behind you (Always looking behind you— Head in the past Just like you It's just like me, Too, To sit down and decide a whole song about you While taking it all down. I'm never distraught with the thoughts of a stranger, Oh, on the contrary; You should be mad about battle, But I'm all for the veterans and And never off if we were not at war with one another, but Then again, That's all we've ever done It would be Devastating To even think of Something more clever “Clever and splendiferous confectionary efforts, Just spectacular concessions my dear; I'll have another.” Hadn't I deciphered once or twice the rhyme for riddles down to dollars and cents? I did, I thought, once. I never hindered Heaven from pondering over my shoulder once or twice upon a full lit moon, which under I predicted my own fortune. Once— or twice, but— Nevermind, or nothing; Indifference, for instance, instantly inscessent ancestral insimination incriminating risidual visuals uhh— —From the festival. Right. The festival project. [—Parallels.—] GOD: So you want to be The “Glass Animals” *nods* Glass Animals. That's what I said. Glass Animals There's no “The” Context. Ok. So–”Glass Animals” *nods* Are you sure you don't want to be made of something else? *nods* *shrugs* Okayy. Glas Animals. I'm lost, But don't remind me Running out of time But time can't find me Open up my eye 10 times in 9 days I should probably fall away Back to the bay, No baby, don't cry No baby, don't cry No baby, don't cry [Midnight Request Line.] Sleek black corvette. Not a dent, not a scratch And I am feeling better, Since you asked What a warm and welcome Pleasant, wet suprise What do I owe you the—time I guess it made me smile for awhile, now I'm sad again— Wow, that was quick… Only took a second, but don't mind my arrogance ‘—I play this and it puts me in a trance.' I want to dance with you I hope someone holds my hand like that, one day Where are you taking me? “Away, my dear, away…”, he's saying… I lie awake midday and taking shallow breaths, I drift away A weapon for my empathy, [Midnight Request Line.] I have no idea what happened. ‘Ambiguous Ambitions - The Crossing ‘ A shiver up my spine I don't really mind, I'm still trying to find the word for it— But tongue in cheek it is That's—if it fits You but me once, And I liked it Come bite me twice If you buy it; Alright, Ryan—where is it? Where is what? You know what I'm talking about. I don't know anything! “Ryan Remembers Everything” Goddamn it, wake up. I need silence. GET UP, GODDAMNIT. Okay— Okay— —I just need you to tell me where it is— Where what is?! I don't think this is very funny. This got serious. Ouch. I don't want to watch TV anymore ever again. I really wish you'd tell me Oh, you wish? Watch this. I'm sorry, Ryan. Hello. I—hello. I'll have a tall order of whatever's in that box. You want what's in that box? Yessir. What is happening? I dunno. I'm afraid that's going to be a problem. *gasp* can we have ninjas? *NINJAS* NINJA FIGHT. —oh sht rly. *lmfao* Sometimes i'm set in my ways, Sometimes days go by—days, In the blink of an eye, Ever since I decided, I might have had love with you. I think we have some things to figure out, about it —it being ourselves, And washing my hands never felt so right In my life Somebody told me the stars in the sky were spirit guides, And it stuck, I'm up all night, But i'm the only star I see In New York City Don't look up to see me— Don't look up to me please, kid, really I mean, why, my baby? I mean, Hi lady— You so fly tonight, just my delight I — Like the way I look by you I— You know, If I sit in the city every night like this, And write, It just might Be the end of me Be the end of me Be the end of me You know, If I did get the limelight, Right on time to soothe and Satiate my need to be an idol LC Even this late in life, Like— —fuck ‘8I just want him to like me' I shouldn't even think about Superstardom like that, But I'll be right back, I gotta get the rabbit out the White hat, What a habit to have, huh What an idea that we might all get along Or a lot done Or be better off alone Than just to fuck off And write another song— Because the audience will like it But we're all over it; It's all done, isn't it? “The Running Game” I don't know what you want to hear from me. How about, “I'm sorry.” Ok, I'm sorry. You don't do much, do you? I guess I don't. Sabotage//Salvation Idk what this is supposed to mean. This is my demise. You're completely a ticking time bomb. You're not wrong. Salvation, from the doldrums. A sound to soothe my soul, I sink beneath you, South and under smoky water Open mouth, and barely thought of, Although often, Walk or waltz, would I To fall, my love, So becoming of a flower; forth and outward over fountains; Leaps and bounds, Of course– Well, this is dope af. What are you doing. What. What happened. THis is really good. So. So, i gotta turn this one off now– And listen to that one insead. All the time? Yeah. Oh. For, like ever..? Well, no. I gotta put it in the vault. Noooh. Yes. YEs. Yes. Forever. FOrever, no, for now– yes. That could be almost forever. Yeah. Almost. “Almost Invisible.” Take out my eyes, for now (If i could, would you want them) To beg or to barter for, I offer them up, as Ritual sacrifice (it's just a) Ritual Sacrifice. These two eyes. __ He was the boy who owned the world; Hailing from the land of a thousand suns, He said, “I'll give you a dozen roses, honey, If all you ever do is, Smile for me, So, go ahead, Smile for a dozen roses or more,” And the irony is that she did it– Not for the roses, –but for the attention. (Just for the attention.) It was she who birthed the worlds; Building the land of a thousands suns, She said I'll give you a dozen horses, “If you could just– Pick the winning one” And the irony is, that he did it– Because he loved horses, And now he had twelve of them! (--And any one could be the winning one, no matter what she does; He's got a dozen of em, Anyway.) Fuck. What. Well, that went off the deep end. Fuck. Well, this just got dark. This guy comes off your blacklist tonight. No, this person Guy. PErson. Most certainly does not. I promise if I love a=a=A=a What is this That's a making no complese sense equation. Think about it in a multidimensional– Oh, that makes total sense. Just remember, when using this– this has been around for a really long time. It's been A long time. I died in your bed, But woke up in your arms; Oh when you love, love– Love me harder, Love me harder– Oh, baby when you love, love me harder Love me harder Love//Love Me Harder Love//Love Me Harder Love//Love//Love Love Me Harder Love//Love Me Harder Love//Love//Love Love Me Harder I woke up in your bed, And then died in your arms; It was a work of art, I suppose What we were, or are (Or aspire to be.) Please. Give me your iPhone. No! No? (Takes I phone.) Is there a reason you don't want me having this? …no. No? —it's full of stuff. “Stuff.” Yes. It's— “Stuff.” Yes. — —and things. I know. Look. We had a deal. We had no “deal” We had a deal. This train just goes on forever, you know; Whether you're on, or off it— So get off, and back on at the wrong stop Once, if not just for the discovery Of another supermarket, Where you shop for strawberries and Groceries Good flex, God; I got a gang of em I'm gonna explain it as straight as it gets Sometimes, You just got to know where to go If you don't trust your gut, You'll just never get, Never get it right. Alright, alright, I started it Alright, right— I gotta get it right, I gotta get ; I'm the worst at introductions Oh and, So bad at Goodbyes Oh, why'd you have to leave me by my idol Why, Why'd you have to lead me by my eyes By my eyes God, I love the way I love the way, I love the way you Love me God, I love The way you The way you Love me You forgot about me, didn't you? You forgot all about me You forgot all about it— All about it Al about it It's not the same, anymore Since you gave it a name, is it? There's nothing I can do To help me, help you This is all I can do, To help me, love you I have to remove you; I have to remove you In a room— Full of beauty— In a world, Full of woes I lose the last dose of you, on my tongue Nobody ever wanted it, like I do— Like I do I lose the last dose of you on my tongue, And I'm all full of love again; I never saw anything like it, I was a modem, still plugged into the wall An anonymous post partum unremarkable Post-party proclamations and eternal damnation for ordering breakfast Evading transportation authorities Unworried the informant sleeping under me Oh, Now she wants to song— Oh, look— And now, she has a song to sing A point to make, A wrong to ring; The man she brings along Is bad for her Oh, she's gotta work (She loves to work, She's got to work it) What kills her makes her stronger What doesn't kill her makes her stronger All she does is Carry on And Carry on And Carry on. “Mrs Sheffield left flushing queens, for this.” Mrs Sheffield left Flushing, Queens, for this?! Mrs Sheffield left Flushing, Queens for this! Mrs, Sheffield! -1flushing queens, fah ‘dis. Very well worth it, I got all the way to brooklyn And way beyond my means for this It's well outta my means. It's out of my hands, now. That boy called you “grandpa” How is it all over? When I bet to God I was, Just in your lap at this party, And you were under me slippin on some sort of Lager or Something Weren't you? Yeah, I was just there, too I was just there, too— I was just there, too— Oh, now she has a song… All of a sudden.— But it's not all of a sudden at all It's not all of a sudden There's nothing, is there? Oh, There's something, surely I went to bed late; But I'm getting up early. I see the way he looks at me— —take it easy, baby We could have the whole room waiting Like a stoner at a stop sign My bad, My eyes lie to me All the time Driving me mad Telling me I want you inside me My bad My bad Well, I want you in my bed But I haven't had one yet I'm thinking Purple Mattress; Or is that mids, to you kids Like Timmy ho's Or my mustang civic It's a custom, yeah Nobody has it yet It's a hybrid Like I am —I am a bit off subject, now (My bad) We never had sex in my bathroom (That was your house) I took a mouse to the mountain (My bad) My writing is getting more Acid-centric, Lysergic acid diethylamide; I didn't buy any, But I haven't the need anymore, Really I just wake up like this: That is, when I wake up (I have long nights, kids) My bad I want to see you very briefly Without your briefs, You know what I mean? Me neither— Sexual delinquency in meditated frequencies Repeat this sequence I keep my deepest secrets Where I need it Right up my slime, Where my spleen is— Dreamed it, and I haven't cleaned since (Or dreamed since) In this Endless emission, Ignition sequence begins When The Lean splits Under the blood moon; An eclipse. I drift off a lot— Just thinking of your penis My daydreams are not very safe for the public I think they're X-rated or worse, Even thinking of you as a person, Or worse: As my husband once, as my lover— Lovers have all the fun, anyway Hm All the things that I'd do to you After you put me through— What are you looking for, exactly? A synchronicity. Just any synchronicity? There's no such thing as “just any” synchronicity. Does “laying low” mean nothing to you? I'm laying low! On a city tour?! It's a big city! [From Afar] IS THAT HER? Aw, fuck. Well, well, well–here we go–0 I don't have time for this. Here it is. I don't know what you're doing. We're going on an adventure! NO. I. Cant. Enjoy. Anything. WELCOME TO HOLLYWOOD. I hate this. My creativity had become merciless–inspiration pouring from the world as if all that it wanted wast o be collected and captured in any way I could see fit to create– What do you want? Out of life–or in this store? Out of life. Lets start with this store. A Living Lion; The eyes inside, I smiled, declined to act on impulse He'll admit, She's less complex, cause she's basic Everthemore complacent, blatantly lazy-- and crazy adorable. Whatmore could any man want? Whatmore could any man need? Whatmore could any man have; But the best friend who needed therapy, Several Plastic surgeries, A fading glass menagerie-- If she knew what that means. (Basically, they're both nobodies.) ‘What on God's awful green earth makes you think I would ever want anything to do with either of you two Losers? Beggars can't be choosers. His plan B was Annie; But she was never like me Enough to be Happy with Sonny; Let alone anybody. What is happening? Do you have an explanation of what's happening to me. Every realm of reality and possibility. This is infinity. What is this all supposed to mean to me? You can see everything and nothing; You can be anything. So what would that mean? What does it mean to you? That Love is Love, then. I've been half of a wide-open bleeding heart, Since the Goddamn start of it. He started it, Or someone did I didn't ever ask for it I was only ever always on the dancefloor when it mattered. I was always looking past him, but not ever looking at him. It was always just at random, but i'd never thought to ask him A question, Or to greet him-- I just. Adjust. They're watching us, from above. Adjust. They just don't trust us Adjust. Look what we've done, look what we've done to the planet that gave us all the light that we come from. Look, there. It appears to be ‘shimmering' What exactly is happening. The entirety of its surface is Auquous. Oceana. If i learn all the planets, In the everlasting galaxies-- And learn how to explore it… I just might get to Skrillex. I might fully need a Xanex bar if I ever see this kid in person. He's olden than you. By like, a minute. Still. I mean, really. I don't think this is ever going to work. It might not work, I mean-- What? If you had to actually-- Oh God, no; I'd be far too nervous. So what are you going to do when it comes time for festival season Run. Hide. Run + Hide. Fight or Flight; A Natural Response to Skrillex There is no natural response to Skrillex, because it's unnatural Be civil. I am I ‘m trying to figure out how to protect this species. Oh now, you're acting as if he's not human Of course he is. But i'm not. Of course. All it is, is science, a bit of misunderstanding. Experimental sorcery, possible exploitation. I'm not exploiting Skrillex. No, he's exploiting YOU. No. Wake the fuck up. No. (Stop repeating yourself) Wake up; you're being manipulated. By Skrillex? Cool. By whatever's manipulating Skrillex. Alright. Alright? You're part of a machine. So? “SO?” You're this comfortable having given your soul up to the devil. I haven't done that. Do you know what it takes to achieve that of which you so covet? Money. And? Power. Go on. Fame. So, calculate. It adds up the same either way. Skrillex isn't real. Maybe not, but Sonny Moore is-- Is, what-- Is “who”... “Who…” I love. What? --But that's all I know. That's it? Yes. Elaborate. Can't. What do you mean? Well, it goes like this: This is insanity. I've been through every wormhole, every parallel, every revolutionary subconscious thought, every world, every realm, every lifetime...and at the end of the day--or the beginning, depending-- it's really all the same question, and the same answer--over and over again; From the Beginning to the End. It is infinite. Everything is Everything. Quickly, tell me-- What, now? What goes on a Skrillex Pizza? Nothing, because it's not a thing! It is not. It isn't! Stop arguing at get to work. On what? On building Building What [The] Skrillex. How in the fuck am I supposed to do that? How in the fuck did you get to be a vegetarian? It just happened. So. So… Are you really a vegetarian? ___ Why did you do this? I didn't do this! You did this! I didn't do this! Why would I do this? How could you! I didn't! What the fuck is HE doing here? What the fuck. You need to stop this. I can't stop. What did you DO. Exactly what I had to. Shasta! Who the fuck is that? That's that bitch. I told you it was Shasta. Who the fuck is Shasta. What show is this? Where is Skrillex? FUCK SKR— Wait, what show is this? INT. THE VOID. DAY & NIGHT. I remember the first time I ever realized, I could love anyone in the world, if they needed me to—or, if they just gave me the chance. Or if I got the chance. Or, if there was a chance. And, if there was a chance, and it was supposed to happen, it always would—especially if I wanted it— But definitely, if I needed it. But, what is is “if”? And, what is “supposed”? What is it to “want”? And what's a “need”? Now I know— or at least pretend to. Because, the more it is I think I know, the actual less I feel that I actually do; None the wiser, I am what I always was— And God is, as I am. Sunni Blu becomes a popular androgynous rapper, as as s/he rises to fame is forced to take on a mre masculine persona to monetize thiher music. After releasing a series of Skrillex diss-tracks, and music aimed at OWSLA's top dogs, a feud between Skrillex and Sunni Blu, or rather their ‘teams' breaks out into the media. After Skrillex is hacked and left with his entire music collection missing, it is presumed the attack and disappearance of his hard drives was orchestrated by Sunni; After his unreleased music is leaked and the damage is deemed ‘irreparable' The Skrillex Project is forced to close, and the artist himself disappeared into obscurity-- after hearing one of his unreleased tracks used for one of Sunni Blu's hits, he( ‘*the fictional Skrillex*) secretly attends one of Sunni's concerts; Sunni Blu spots him in a large crowd and the two brawl; Skrillex with the upper hand after Sunni draws back from a bloody nose and retreats; It is revealed that the unreleased Skrillex track which was ‘gifted' to her came from the stolen collection, unbeknownst to Sunni Blu Although Sunni Blu's true identity has yet to be revealed to more than Dillon Francis, beside the publicity and management who have been helping to keep her secret; Dillon Francis and Sunni Blu are cornered by paparazzi, revealing to the public that she is, in fact, a female; As allegations arise that Sunni Blu is a transgender, rumors put a strain on Sunni Blu and Dillon Francis's collaborations… TBC. All of a sudden—or maybe, even, not so suddenly—I was Clark Kent—or whatever Superman's name was. I had been without contacts or glasses for quite some time, and had quite explicitly in one of my many letters to God—or really any holy power in a realm which might have received my charred requests—all the things I needed, and some of the things I very badly wanted—tightly bundled and wax-sealed with intention for nothing besides that of the greater good, or course, for myself or anyone else—set ablaze in the unforgiving streets of New York City, in secrecy at odd hours of the night; it hadn't been my actual intent to have to practice any magic at all, especially under the circumstances, it it seemed that someone nearly unmentionable at all, had hexed a nasty attack on my psyche—a satanic, demonic possession of the weak and feeble bodies around me, and unable to isolate in completion, I became vulnerable to such a wicked curse that it had altered my psychic morality—as one does not practition a counter-curse or attack , in my medicinal expertise, without first being provoked—as one military typically mustn't bomb another, or even it's own enemy without being first considerably attacked—and it was, at this point, indeed a terrible holy war. I pulled the stars into order I put the water to fountains, in mountaintops I don't know who I am either But you call me God, Agree, I'd not— But at least I love you I believe I was you once I'm awful sorry that I broke you I might have put the sun Just to far up and out of reach Believe me, see—I see you Doesn't matter what we try to do Unity is beautiful I live on the 8th floor I don't intend what I'm there for It doesn't feel bad though It doesn't feel bad though I don't know what you're after -Blū Do I scare you? Only a little. Huh. What? Nothing.. I hate you. ihateyou. Eventually, The Ascended Masters will intervene. They already have. Oh, Christ Almighty. He's not coming. [Answering Phone] Jesus Christ Almighty –WHERERU? I TOLD YOU I'D GET THERE GODDAMNIT. Fascinating. Do my eyes deceive me, Or Is there a secret between us: A secret illusion; Should I bury it, Or keep it neatly And unseen, Between my knees, And where you need me? Is there a thing that I should need, But never speak– I'll keep it in my sweet release To dream beliefs of evil Seen, aquamarine revines, And pulsing veins, –and stolen hearts, Not passing judgment, But just passing by To hide, to pass the time To find a high, Align in color Fly, Write another rhyme, Or wire fireflies a transfer of light, Like the eyes reflect to mine. WHY would you write this? WHY. I hate blue eyes. That's racist. No it isn't. Congratulations on making it into my aerospace, unscathed A coincidence, this is not. I have something for you. I don't need anything from you. That's because I gave you everything you need. Right. I have everything. RIght. So you should know whatever you need comes at a high price. What makes you think I need something. You said you have something for me? Yes I do. You don't seem the gift giving type. I'm not. So, what do you want from me? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? Oh. it' s another one. What's he need? Probably nothin, really Oh, it's something. This shouldn't be happening. I agree. why is this bothering me. Google it's self had deleted half my entry, which was admittedly sloppily thrown together, at nearly a full episode's length; probably for the best, as I was becoming more intolerant of my societal responsibility by the moment, and increasingly self destructive asa result. It was still chaotic; fame kept coming closer towards me and then leaping away, but not out of reach or out of sight, but rather than chase it, I merely calmly strode forward in a never-changing pace, not rushing and always careful to remain calm, even when filled with fury. I had become unrecognizably fit, chaste, and a remarkably healthy eater; I was all together well, besides in the areas of romance and sexuality of course. I was ready to pounce, but timing would be key, and patience the virtue; UH – “hehe” …I beg your pardon. “Hehe” Um… Fuck. Or “haha” “haha” … Just admit it. … Admit it already! –haha. Admit WHAT. This gets Levels. Nobody thought Patrice O Neal was a woman! I thought Patrice O Neal Was a Woman. Ah, fuck, I'm nobody. “Nobody” Is that Bob Saget? I swiped right on this dude, just cause he looked exactly like Bob Saget. Omg. Bob Saget! Fuck, that's right. EXT. THE W HOTEL, BEVERLY HILLS, DAY/ EXT . PODSHARE WESTWOOD ROOFTOP, DAY OH MY GOD, GUYS, LOOK: IT'S BOB SAGET. No it's not! Oh My God! Yeah IT IS! Fuck, really?! Bob Saget?! BOB SAGET! YO GUYS, IT'S BOB SAGET. It was, in fact, Bob Saget. Bob Saget's dead, right? Oh yeah, bud. That's it guys! No more dead celebrities! I'm coming with you! NO MORE GHOSTS. Look, I have something to tell you. UGH. COME ON. This is a weird superpower. EXT. GRAVEYARD, QUEENS, NY. DAY … … … Having fun yet? Alright! I have a question! What? When do I get to– Get to what? You know. V.O. Things I know about myself… I have a dominant personality, but am sexually submissive— I am monogamous. I know what I like — *Drill beat* Die in your sleep (Hope you die in your sleep) Die in your sleep (Betta die in your sleep) I look like a vacation. But k'm still on the clock (psyche) Countin my rocks And holdin my (unh) crotch You better watch your back —hold on your coughs Don't run in no crocs! (No!) I'm offset Now I'm upset l —I love you. Shut up, foo— I don't even love myself. …you told her?! I—yeah… What did she say?! She said “shut up, fool Been. Long time since I missed my exit HEY! [looks over slowly] I LIKE YOUR BALLS. [beat] [thumbs up] How do I not have “throwing elbows?!” BECAUSE YOURE NOT DOING YOUR JOB! Shut up, Jeff COME TO THE DARK SIDE WE HAVE COOKIES Half of Hollywood shows up at Joel's super nerdy Star Wars party The truth comes in glimpses; A shattered reality Scattered the ashes at malice, insanity— Actress, an actress; She laughs when she has to, l l l And last to leave, actually, After each practice Practice conspicuous, Conspiracy conspiracy Perspiration lyrics, affixed to the rhythms She sleeps at the regency, l Freedom for secrecy Believe, please believe me, my love l It was easy The truth comes in glimpses; A shattered reality Scattered the ashes at malice, insanity— Actress, an actress; She laughs when she has to, l l l And last to leave, actually, After each practice Practice conspicuous, Conspiracy conspiracy Perspiration lyrics, affixed to the rhythms She sleeps at the regency, l Freedom for secrecy Believe, please believe me, my love l It was easy Sunni BLU Tweety bird Mickey Mouse Betty boop I woke up like this But a little different I woke up a star Then became a planet I'm a hummingbird, but I don't like flying I might look alright, But I feel like dying I hate waking up at 5 am Just to be the first one at the gym I don't wanna do that shit again— Well, I might as well just stay up! I hate waking up at 5 am Just to take my goddamn medicine, but If I don't I'll feel like shit— Well, I might as well just stay up! I might as well just stay up! This is a recipe for disaster. No, this is a recipe for Skrillex. Oh. This is the recipe for disaster. Thanks, Dillon Francis. FOR WHAT? I remember the moment I became partially deaf. Or at least, in the synesthetic sense. Dillon Francis is delicious Come on let me lick it on a stick Give it to me like a big Meat popsicle Meat popsicle Meat popsicle Meat popsicle Sample: Willy winks* ITS WILLY WONKA Lol are we still doing the bit where the misspellings are like a, another entirely different dimension? Yeah. Haha. Yeah. —and the chocolate factory

Enter The Multiverse Enter Through The Exit Vi ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: THE MOVIE - PART I THE LEGEND OF SUPACREE: ENTER THE MULTIVERSE LEGENDS: ORIGINS Apparently, There's a movie between Season 3, and Season 4. Of which show? All of them. ALL OF THEM? That's a lot. That is a lot. Does she know she's being recorded? She doesn't know she's being recorded. Oh, My God. ANANDAR THE GREAT. who's this now? --that's my sponsor --that's my manager --that's my... Oh. "Oh." ...Oh. Ah! She's a witch! Yo--She's a fairy! WHAT'S THIS MAGIC? ...kk. damn. i'm a dick. she's such a diva. what an asshole. I guess it's a series of important encoded messages, or something. 4 fucking hours?! I'm not listening to this. We're listening to this. I shouldn't post this. Don't post this. Damn. I'm a dick. A fucking narcisist. What an asshole! What a dick. A fucking sociopath. "My body doesn't know what it needs." "My body knows exactly what it needs." Here, take this. You can't just-- [does.] SUPACREE is a dick. She's a dick. [SECRET LIFE OF SUNNI BLU] Whatever. Something out there asked for this. What about your superstardom? What about it? Give me that. Ugh. What is this? *coughs* WHAt THE-- doctor sebi maps.me dissappear. -blu. Fall//Fly (never) capo 1 Oh I've never been so high in my life Oh I've never been so high in my life Oh I've never been so… Lost in my mind, in time Oh I've never been so high in my life Oh I've never been so out of touch Oh I've never been so out of touch Oh I'll never forget to call again Oh I've never been so Out of touch If i could love you a life time And I probably might, I find I'd give you all my light (or none ) We'll find, in time Which one Oh I've never seen such love in my world Oh, I've never seen such love in my world oh, I've never seen such love in my world Oh, i'll never forget to fall again, Oh, I've never seen such love in my world …Oh, I've never been so high in my life Oh, i”ve never been so high in my life Oh, I'll never forget to call again— Oh, i've never been so high in my life Oh I''ve never been so high in my life Oh i”ve never been so high in my life Oh, I'll never forget to fall… ___ 4427 43 2900 5671 12/3 369 The question wasn't whether I wanted to stay, or go; in fact, I wanted to go, and to stay—but underlying and now, overlying, was the wonder of in what way I would spend my birthday. Did it matter? I wanted it not to, and yet, here I was, caught in the wash, and the album or book, or episode– whatever it was, that was coming about from it was meant to be called “Three Nights In San Cristobal” , but something was pressing me to get out, now that I had the certainty and assertion of what I was; Then It just stops. OH MY GO- RUSKO aka “Christopher Mercer” is standing trial for the involuntary manslaughter of his roommate; He becomes famous in a nearby parallel for being the the first human known to have committed murder by way of sound frequency— FUCK. —little does anyone know… SUPACREE headlines an entire festival during a blackout. Was it bad? yeah. did they throw trash at me? Only a little. aww. SUPACREE is a Superstar DJ. Oh great, yeah. She is possibly the best— THE BEST &, also/al SHH. “Bread's Dead” LIVE KETO SET. What is this. just buy tickets. What is it? i'll buy them. PAUSE. AND THEN WHAT? MILEY CAME IN ON A WRECKINGBALL. You mean, “like” a wrecking ball”? NO. I mean, YES, she was ON a wrecking ball, so– “like' but, WAS. WHAT. BROAH. DID SHE COME OFF? sortof. WAHHHHHHHHHHHH WHAT DRUGS ARE YOU ON? NONE. hey, look watch. RELEASE THE KRAKEN. YOOOOOOOOOOOOO. got a new guitar; got another gig got a new guitar, got another gig got a new guitar got another gig —got another gig —got another gig Well, now that I'm famous, it makes everybody seem more human. The good ones, the bad ones– Except for women. Women are monsters. I hate them. You are them. I was them. NO, I wasn't. Was I wrong for loving you? (It's too human) I didn't want to do this It's so stupid True, I'll use it, too “i'll use him” “Cool” I'm just a tool, to you, then. Then, there was Justin Roiland, the unsung hero of them all–mostly because he wasn't ‘sung' at all, but mostly spoken–the amount of comfort his voice had always provided was, in the very least, heroic–if I understood the context of Poetic Justice at all, that's probably what it was. But even he, in my mind, being all of consciousness at once, now, more often than not, had collided with the thoughts of fame and wealth, and what exactly it does; I paused hard upon reflecting on the ‘retarded' amounts of laugher that seemed to be unstoppable, as I formed the then-very-loose-plot of my own projects, or rather, the conglomerate of them all, which would eventually become The Festival Project Perhaps, I thought, all that it really was is that I had been watching the final outcome of a ride I was also on, for all of them–however, as much as I wanted, I couldn't seem to forge the great gifts of The Prodigal Sonny, and as it turned out, I wanted either all of it or none. Now that I was properly out of carbohydrates, I could focus on being somewhat hot, at least until someone with an actual body walked by or just happened along; I had somewhere along the way decided that women with perfect bodies were in fact not Gods, or rather Goddesses, but Satan in his truest form– as often and awkwardly from afar, I often watched as men would become useless and lost followers in their company, typically unarmed with more than looks– But, I knew at this point that the men I had so affectionately fawned after had climbed the social and even political ranks so much so that, The Actresses, The Models, The Musicians and otherwise multi talented women of the world– A world to which I may have once belonged, had my mother not destroyed my body– my upbringing clipping me with a 25-year-long inability to produce positive thoughts concerning The Self. Now that I had properly shifted my self-hatred into Skrillex, which didn't exist as a man, but a business, I could unravel the rest of the infinite that was somehow expanding as quickly as it was collapsing. Considering Luis was now seemingly preoccupied with the ugly punk rock girl, and now that I would be properly sealed-off from whatever truck stop… Stop scratching You look awful. It's just because i'm black and I need my hair done. Just cut it off. Fuck that nonsense. Why not? Same reason I put clothes on: It covers up the ugly. God Loves Ugly Oh yeah? Well maybe UGLY just loves GOD cause nobody wants it so there's no one left to talk to BUT him. “Him” ? Or not.. Whatever. It's beyond the human concept that The God Consciousness is *coughs* whatever she wants. Or IT. Check it out. Another fucking demon. ‘The Demon Whisperer' Demons don't whisper, they cough. (Or pretend to cum) Who does that? Pornstars. Models. Whatever these are. –truck stop travelers would pass through rampantly, leaving nothing but the trash of processed junk and coughing obnoxiously, rather than having to hang above it all in a hammock, only ever wishing for Skrillex so that I could fight the mosquitoes off. I just wanted a home, and, though I was only joking about the mangoes, it seemed my faith was at least partially restored, as the room I had decided was the closest thing… Suddenly, the ability to write, at least, as I had been–in this form, was vanishing; Of course, having to scramble to some effect to make sure that I wasn't listening to Dillon Francis– Why, exactly, is that? Why is what? Why is Dillon Francis on The Blacklist? Because. Dillon Francis Made Me Laugh AND DEN?! Dillon Francis Made Me Cry. Oh noooo. Oh I love her. This plot is so racist. So is Hollywood. IN THIS DIMENSION: The Chinese Woman from Freaky Friday, and The Chinese Woman from Dude Where's My Car are actually the same woman–she just has two jobs. HAVE–THREE JOB. Oh, three jobs. That's a lot, Mrs. Wong! (Racist name, by the way) —and, she's gone. No, i”m not. Get me off this planet. LIQUID STRANGER If you want. Enter: The Psychonauts His music had inspired the entire plot of Ascension… I could be gone from it, but not forgotten or lost; at some point it seemed as though everything I had written hadn't even belonged to me… Well, it was almost a thought process, in narrative form. Then what happens? This. This is the festival project. Why'd you get up? I felt I was being watched. Well, you're not. (But I was) hy·per·son·ic /ˌhīpərˈsänik/ Learn to pronounce adjective 1.relating to speeds of more than five times the speed of sound (Mach 5). 2.relating to sound frequencies above about a thousand million hertz. Now that I had nearly drifted off into an experience that was more in my body than out… She's–immune to ACID? In– SUPACREE throws DILLON FRANCIS out the window. Wait, what window. It–doesn't matter. DILLON FRANCIS [falling] YES IT DOES No, it doesn't. ((yes it does)) Oh–it does? [Everyone nods, especially DILLON FRANCIS, who seems to momentarily stop falling as if he's forgotten he ever was.] [Dillon Francis Nods] Well then… [He is suspended in mid air] Really high up. Oh My God. [He hits the ground, hard. Surprisingly, he does not splatter–and luckily, appears to have already been unconscious. In the darkness, upon impact] RUN. Just then, I remembered who Ever was– who never was; The daughter I had thought up and then forgotten under everything i had become; The mumbling, stumbling drunken father I loved, only reminded me of the… And…it's gone. What! We can't add south park! That's too many plots! Well, you're practically Butters. I am– [BUTTERS] Mantequilla! MORE TEQUILA. Sacred Science: Ancient Egyptian “It Doesn't Matter” CC's new friend falls into an infinite loop, where SUPACREE flees for her life from superstardom and fame; He (Inwardly, also supacree—) and his friend “Kiwi” relay a series of messages through several various futuristic intergalactic languages and advanced codes, which CC, operating newly as “Blū” and DJ Ū in her full creative persona, has learned to decode through music programming hypnosis, and has developed a keen expertise in the studies of synaesthetics, and telekinesis. Oh. This is next level. It's multiple levels. Okay, heavy duty. I'll roll one. Oh. [three overly attractive idealistic males enter The Vortex] Jesus Christ, Almighty. Oh. I told you, sit here. This is good. I needed that. — ‘I needed that.' Nothing happens without purpose or reason. What is “purpose” What is “reason” Oh, What's this *Daddy* Alright, I should get on with my day. No, stay seated. That's not fair. NO, watch it— Wait for it; Just wait. He—spoke BIRD. He was huge. Gigantic. THIS ISN'T HAPPENING. Don't be tall. I wasn't gonna! Oh, no, no, no. Everything was rock hard bodies and chest hair; The matted dreads of the friend beside me added adverse texture to the clean cut and very well-to-do-looking gentlemen who had against my will-to-wish, decidedly planted themselves parallel and just out of my line of sight, by peripheral—just so that to study them I had to sneak to peek at each of them, as within moments of spotting them all at once, as always, I could tell that each of them—with great respect, in their… “PALM/CC* MAAAAAAAAN— We waste time on SOOO much buuulllllshiiiiit Oh, I get it. This is illuminati. You got it. —in their own unique sense and in the proper respective realms—they each had something to give, and to receive, to The Goddess, most recently hidden and writhing in sexless pain– Oh, My God. What's this around his neck. I don't know. Let's see here. Is it obsidian? HE SPEAKS BIRD. GO FOLLOW HIM. I just gushed. Don't be gross. Oh no, don't open your mouth. [The man begins to speak; he is oversexily foreign.] Oh My GOD. This dragon is going to destroy something! She's going to destroy EVERYTHING. That's what she does best! I had arguably never been so horny in my life, and nothing but the damage was being done, to my psyche and my subconscious ability to self destruct when super imposed upon. @terrazadelarquitecto She was wild, and wanted to know all there was to know to become and unleash the sprawling Goddess that had begun to take her Maiden form in the wash that was coming up into the shaken and awoke knowledge that was— they were all so perfect, Sacred Science: The king of pharaonic theocracy R.A.Schwaller De Lubicz There he is. Hey, there, sailor. What the fuck is THIS. How. Why be that large? Has it's benefits. Christ Almighty. Is that the one you want? Is it, then? Realizing I was being programmed to buy another something, I stopped myself from the influence of all that was around me, a playful gesture to indulge, by kindly rejecting the notion, in a push to finally move about my day; I was again becoming The Insomniac, or, whether or not I had known it all along, I always had been—which meant, in the suffering of losing my knack for writing anything and everything at any given time. I am a sitting duck. [Dillon Francis emerges from the water, gasping for every bit of breath.] Don't look at that. Mooh, my God. It's in color. Why is that—? Now What was *then*? Answer this question, No , Answer this Question: Okay. lol. _ here's this: What's this crappy place? Harsh. No, i'm serious. This is horrible. Okay, ouch. I mean it, this is bad. Where is this? Uh- Why are we here? This..is the bottom of my heart. This is gross. dang. Wait. so you're saying Yeah, get this They literally went—“within” Uhuh. To the bottom of his heart, literally— Yes, the inward infinite; The literal material externalization– The literal—yes. And she's like: “Ew” “Ew.” …Ew. [SECRET LIFE OF SUNNI BLU] I love the illuminati. Why would you say something like that? Look at this: What are those. They're not Crocs. Are they diamond encrusted? Indeed they are. Is that gold. Solid Gold, and Platinum; They're not plated. How would you even walk in those. I would not— Because you can't. I could, cause I'm man-strong — I just would not; Because it's ridiculous? Don't use that word around me. It is ridiculous! No, it's a synonym of ridiculous, because ridiculous doesn't exist—Anyway. Someone should put you to sleep. I've Michael Jackson'd Myself three times since I got famous—and you know what I got? It wasn't sleep! That's Off subject. Nothing's ‘on' subject. It's really *not* I love dudes in weird pants. Period. Still on the outside; Dead on the inside Inside out and On my head, Alone, my mind, along— But on my own ride A tribe of gypsies, With me, (or without me) Living out loudly, and badly But I was quite poorly, Or worried, but good on the core Wonder what's it all worth , with no surf and no certainties; copy + paste. ep -En Ūtero [Extended] 6:18 -hopskoch. -takitoo. 6:01 -43. -and then what? -Ū C'ESME'T Why are you walking me to my wild side? PETRUTHEIO Because it's my wild side. [beat] PETRUTHEIO (CONT'D) –What if I gave you all my love? C'ESME'T Why would I want that much love? PETRUTHEIO What if it wasn't that much? C'ESME'T Then why would I want it at all? he likes these games, ain't no heartbreak Raise the stakes No harm, no foul; It's an eye for an eye, and and ear for an ear, here She said “I live a fast life” He said, “I drive a fast car” but it wouldn't go far, no It wouldn't go far at all, now! I sometimes forget i'm famous enough to just live out my life, I forget i'm an idol, I decided my mind is a diamond I'm higher than high now, Hey now, The Lord of the Flies Now I might need to file another reliable lie There's another way to settle down, now Call it automatic, press repeat and need to eat But need to breathe again Can't keep secrets from the reaper, Everything you need is simply Everything you need is simply Everything you need is simply green. I sometimes forget i'm famous enough to just Live it out, loud But I don't want to go, now! How about a round of applause— cause I like the sound of it Got a Dalmatian on the Greyhound What now? I'm finally proud of my Finally proud of my No, I'm just finally proud of me; Figure out how to be found There's another way to settle down, now Call it automatic, press repeat and need to eat But need to breathe again Can't keep secrets from the reaper, Everything you need is simply Everything you need is simply Everything you need is simply green. Black background, green Plus sign (insomniac sweater) rarity. (purple) -Ū. mirissa g.pool “fucking mosquitoes.” I told you, you need skrillex. and I told YOU to shut your dirty mouth, you hooker. Hookers get paid. Yeah, by Skrillex. –that's enough. I am the only one at my table; I am the only one on my team I been inside the box for so long, that if you let me out, I might scream I am the only crayon in the whole damn box I'm the only sand on my beach and I don't preach what I practice; But I practice what I preach Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah oh oh oh oh yeah yeah yeah yeah oh oh hey Do you have a problem? Is it with me? Should I pray the Lord your soul to keep? Should I call the reaper? Or the state police? Is it martyrdom or suidice if they write a press release? SKRILLEX You looked like a deer in the headlights. SUPACREE Oh yeah? well, you looked like a bat on a windshield I'll give you ten thousand dollars if you can get that hat off her head. are you serious? 15Gs if you can get it to touch the ground. SUPACREE we're playing a game i made up TIM We're playing a game *I* made up. SUPACREE I am you. TIM Now you've got it. I don't know what just happened— Okay— But this lady just saw down straight into my soul, where a ghost lives. You're a ghost? My soul's haunted!!! That is deep bro. …And he's got music. —So he's almost always gonna be alright And she's got—music; So she's almost-always gonna be alright. You can go ahead. It *is* funny. I don't like it. It's already hilarious. Where are we? Where *is* this? And you will *never* find me. We found you. Eyes on God. Oh My— WHAT. I'm *sorry* mom. Why are you looking at *ME*. ‘Cause I'm SORRY. Don't look at *ME* sorry. Wait. How many people can I be at once? All of them. No. Yes. Watch: [Watching.] …Watching… [Watching—gets knocked out.] Now. Now, you caught me in a bad spot; I'm getting off in dark spaces Come, come along now. Way beside, but along on my own, now. Tie your love down/ Tie your love down; Oh, Now all the way out of the way This is innosense, in a sense Go down to the shore, For the fun of it; Come now, you got to Tie down Tie down Tie down Dive down wide-eyed, Humbled with pride— While you're siding, Colliding with Idols, Confiding in no one, and residing nowhere— Nowhere to go, If they don't care ‘Who are you?' Now I'm getting caught in dark spaces; I'm getting off in a bad spot; Come, along now. Along, but way beside all on my own now In a sense, this is innocence Down, Tie Your love— Down Down, Tie your love, down All the way out of the way, Now— Oh! In a sense, this is innocence. I've got summer on my mind. ‘I take no part in the festival; if you look to kill me, I only ask that you do it quickly. ‘ What movie is this? This is ‘The Insomniac”. Oh, Okay well—what happens in it? CREE? SUPACREE. What are you DOING here? This is how I wrote The Legend of SUPACREE. I thought this was “The Insomniac”? This is how I wrote this, too. Wrote what? Just— Just. Keep. Writing. —And it doesn't stop for nothing. It really doesn't; it doesn't stop for anything. What is this. Audio. It's DJ Shit. ___ Bitch, what is your deal? I don't have one. Yes you DO. My soulmate made a deal with the devil, He sold the soul we share for success, wealth, and fame—but did not include love in the fine print. Watch this. What is this. It's a test. It's all a test. _ Open the map. I'm not gonna do that. I'm not playing. Are you insane? By standard definition? By any definition. I mean— [Some Mild Insanity.] I could be. INSOMNIAC. Who would do this. Who wrote this? Who's paying for this? Now that the stones that I Carried for The Luminaries had grown heavy, I could not carry them all at once, and at the same time was also in the process of getting smaller; So small that it would become difficult to carry one or more of the stones in my bosoms. Wow. Control your self. Wish I could. For some reason the whole world smelled like sex; There was nothing but bodies in the ripe perfection of the perfect paradisiacal air; Sunlight reflecting off of each and every thing thing that was under it..The days were long, and the nights were almost a blur, but I was less concerned with any one person or circumstance beyond my own well being for more than a fraction of the moment. But because I let it become funnier, all the while behaving as an omnipotent observer, it was unfolding quite beautifully, and very theatrically; I couldn't help but keep track of the movement around me, and how it related to my innermost reflections in this existence, seemingly everlasting. ‘--Now he's gonna cut the head off this bird, I guess.' Owh. This is beyond out of control. Unacceptable. The game hasn't started; the map isn't even open yet; Why are the refs making calls? You are OUT of BOUNDS. I'M NOT PLAYING. This is so far off the map. There's a secret passageway. They LEAKED. The MAP. All of a sudden, nothing bothered me. I was my own worst enemy, but now it seemed that I was magically washing away in my fears. Not far from freedom, I wasn't gone from the idea of what Love was, but was drawn towards a darker, more solitary cause. What is this story. I guess this is The Legend of Supacree. I'M NOT CURSED. I'm not SUPACREE. Fair. Fair. [Heavy Skrillexian Accent] FIAR!!! You're are Fired. I'm a- what? So I pulled these cards. Oh, woah, now. Drop this, here. I can't; Wow. Wow. Wow. Wooo00000wwwoooooowwwwwwWW Do you know who you ARE? Do *you* know who I am? Oh, My God! I feel like that's an important factor. What the fuck is this show? go for the gold! I told you, the whole damn cast of; Sons of Anarchy; what on god. This all happened. *ecstatic* Ohhh Noooooo. [TIS + LEGEND OF SUPACREE + GERALD'S WORLD = ENTER THE MULTIVERSE / LEGENDS] key: live that long maybe it's not my place Maybe it's not my place to say, maybe It's not my place Maybe it's not my place, to say I'll just say grace, and clear my plate My patience [is] lol You know what? I like cake, you bitch!! Then eat some cake, you— [a death glare] —Overly-agressive person! I guess I'm just Suspiciously Capricious Kinda skittish when I'm in my kitchen scripting this in Yiddish, washing dishes in my menacingly hideous unmentionables spitting shit I didn't get to send to— …anybody interesting. #skrillex SEASON 6 ACT III - Part II Oh no. I told you, this was a bad idea DONT CHECK THE— It's too late. “A Writing Assignment” Fuxk. This is bad. I'M GONNA DIE LIKE THIS. Well, it's Brooklyn—there's gonna be a fire escape and a rooftop. This is creeper level 9000 Whatever. Where'd the bass go? I've lost my sense of direction I'm mad I can't have you, It's candid I shouldn't be out here like this l I should have gone to Manhattan Are you mad, man— At the mad hatter! At the course of action in this rendition fuxk, it is Skrillex. I just went to look for Kayla Lauren. Got hit with the other one instead. “I insist, do it this way” Better get a good picture, Better get a good fix on your riches Maybe this is why my scar was lighting up all morning Maybe that's the reason I was off. Without my phone all day. Maybe that's the reason I was fasting. Good Goddamnit man, You're awful good at acting Awful good at grabbing ass, And awful good at dancing Awful good at making friends And awful good at First things first, And first things last, and after— Amsterdam I never guessed where York was at I never asked I never asked I never asked FUCK. What, man. I think Skrillex listens to my podcast. Well, that's, uh. Fuck that. Fuxk that. Fuck that. Well, that's one hell of a flex. It's a pop up. I just had a dream about surfing. Better stop, God. There might be a show for every day of the week. I'm still weak in the knees. I don't know what I need. I'm still a mothafuckin Skrillex fiend. Have a nice dream. Have some ice cream. There's the ice queen. That's been three times since my eye started bleeding. I thought I was just an MC, Or a DJ, I might take the soul train But don't have a ticket Thanks. Now whose the dick. Well , I'm just taking pictures. How's Dillon Francis. Now that's a priority. I can't ShaZam from out here, you know. I called my dad. I thought you had no family. Same thing as having no home, or, No where to go, I'm no homer, I'm sitting here, hopeless, outside or your show— Not hoping to see you, or anything I'll be you, inside my dreams, Sequels for everything Sequences, sequins and diamon rings, Sequoias and I still have feelings for I still have feelings for Feelings for everything This is the weakest I've been since I needed you 2019 was the year that the hero Was broke Well. That's it. What. That's the whole thing. Can't be the whole thing Do you want to take a half, or a whole thing Do you want to wear the pants, or the whole ring Should I take a flight to France, or to Oakland Stuck in a chokehold, God, I'm too old for this God, I just want to go home; Here's a long rope to hang your self with— Now I'm locked up in homeroom I lost it all once, got it all at the pawnshop For $96 dollars— The original price tag, of course, read $115 though. I honestly thought I never wanted to see Skrillex again, but as it turned out— as I was, of course, trying to connect with closure, snooping into Instagram just to find evidence or romance, which I did—not that I needed anything more than a glance to ensure my own insanity—and it was that, insanity. Don't do it. —but it's Valentine's Day. Don't do it. Goddamnit, I hate this. I hadn't been up this early without not having gone to bed since I arrived on the east coast; I woke up promptly around 8 with lyrics in my brain and music in my head; it had been a long and strange night, with no dreams at all—at least none that I could remember, and it had been long since I had woken up with anything in my mind besides fear and panic. I refused to turn on my phone, quickly reaching for my notebook and a pen before the song would leave my mind—I had a lot of work to do, and for whatever reason I actually felt like doing it; I at least had the train ride to Manhattan to think about what I should be thinking about, or to unravel from whatever I was wrapped up in, even if it was just myself. This is not a coincidence This is not a drill; Of course, now— I feel like the villain; To swallow Dillon like a pill But In the end, though, Nothing's real, And nothing changes, Nothing will I should be working on my will I think of jumping— What a thrill I'm busy thumping, humphing Rumbling, mumbling about something And someday never comes, But Sunday does, And Sonny shows up Monday— I feel dumb, and awkward, suddenly— I'm just an awkward cunt; That's what the prophet wrote Upon the wall In Brooklyn, Out on Broadway, Where I was, Before the fall off; I gave my dad a call, And then my son— That's all that love was I showed up with my whole heart in my pocket What a long walk; What an alter, Whatever the sun does When he doesn't watch I'm Sasquatch, But it's water, starch, And crunches ‘This is not a coincidence.' I had spent the day before, valentines day, combing through my belongings meticulously—I was due to check out the following morning, and without much thought I had thought of another extension, which would of course diminish the last of my money, but at least warrant another couple nights safe and warm. I hadn't made any sense to look for a normal job-not only would the process or getting hired take up all the rest of my time, but it would be two to three weeks before I would receive any kind of paycheck at all—and with such little time left living indoors, It didn't make sense to try. I had been stranded in New York since a arrived on the 4th, and though it had nearly been two weeks, I hadn't any luck in landing any gigs or performances. Jetro of course was still waiting with Blame Society records in Rome for my arrival, I hadn't even thought to notify him of the lack of such, as I partially blamed even alerting him that I was on my way via instragrwm for the flight delay that had caused me to miss my train, which of course caused me to miss my plane, landing me stuck in a hostile, cruel, and homeless USA. I carry, or Hold no stones for you; Haven't I a heart left It's the darkest of all the hours, And here you are, again— Not near, or far, But a bet is a bet, An eye for an eye And a head for a head And you're so far ahead, I've yet to catch up yet I have a gift for your daughter, Often, I've thought of her Lost in New York, No glass houses, It's just brick and mortar She calls me retarded, my mother So I haven't called her I just keep running north I just keep running my mouth on this podcast I just keep thinking that someone's my long lost love, at last You dirty bastard I'm an asshole: Handsome, Hanzel is In case it mattered Everyone's a fucking actor Look at that girl And look at that And look at that And look at that girl And look at that And look at that You took my whole world Turned it upside down And bottled up my love l You never told me where the bottle was But showed me what a model was And after that I fell in love with Something about doing drugs and Coming up with love to give to others Turning pigeons into doves And wishing I could just be nothin' —cause my life was fuckin loveless —and I thought you were my husband (Fuck Kayla Lauren; But I guess I gotta love her, Cause she's human) I took my time getting ready, no time, actually, in comparison to how slowly I had been moving throughout the week, and although I had been to the gym daily, I was worn, and tired—and coming up empty on all fronts. It was 10:14 or so by the time I finally made my way to the subway, ‘I'm still off', I thought— but not only couldn't I depressively sulk and lay in bed the way I thought I would or even maybe wanted to, I had been lifted out of my sleep and on my way to Equinox with a startling force—though I shouldn't have at all been suprised; this, whether consciously or not, I realized, had always happened when it came to the matter of the mysterious Sonny Moore. ‘Fuck' It was late evening Monday before the anxiety started to set in, and for some reason had been the reason I had decided to turn on my phone, to extend my reservation another couple days, buying time in comfort and warmth, on the freedom of privacy, which I had done nothing with but rest and try to be whole again, whatever that was—and whatever it meant. I had been cooking for the first time in months, stretching, and meditating the ways that only seemed to come natural when having my own time and space —and though it wasn't wholly my own, it was clean, peaceful, and quiet—included it's very own space heater, and was decorated in my favorite color blue. My host was an actual working professional who had succeeded in the entertainment industry—which of course made me jealous, but I at the very least had done my best to network and perhaps nitpick an easygoing cash job out of it “I have some connections”, she had piped—and so, with that in mind, I had sent her my links; and of course, with my extension being the reason for even having turned on my phone, was quick to check my text messages to see if there had been any movement with the booking agent she had supposedly sent my information to. “I gave him your Instagram, and so he'll probably reach out to you through there if he's interested.” I hated Instagram and it seemed to hate me, even before the devastating discovery of what a Kayla Lauren was, it had always seemingly been algorithmically programmed to make me hate myself, always spamming my feed with skinny white girls with blue eyes, which I only hated, admittedly out of bitter loneliness—the guys I seemed to like and fall for had always seemed to go for that type—white, skinny, blue eyes or some variation of the “ideal” standard of beauty, especially by Californian standards—and so I had always taken long breaks from it, shielding myself from self hatred: my absolute theory becoming that Instagram was an algorithm built for population control, preying on the weak and insecure, and probably attributing to more suicides than anyone had noticed or cared for. Lil biiiiiitz You know what else is weird about New York. People eat on the subway. They eat in the train station. They just— It's kind of gross; at least to me. Of course, the trains in New York are a lot cleaner. Sometimes the station even smells like bleach. That's so cool. Still don't want to eat in there. That's weird. INT. CHAUNCEY STREET. SUNDOWN | VALENTINES DAY BLŪ waits patiently for Instagram to download, sighing heavily as she waits; As it has finished, she rolls her eyes and opens the app, squinting and pursing her lips as she quickly checks for messages: only adds, nothing important. BLŪ Of course, no messages. Psh. She exits the app, thinking for a moment before re-opening it. Don't do it. SEARCH: Sk— INSTAGRAM skrillex You never learn. BLŪ watches the story, for the most part, unenthused—until TONIGHT: BROOKLYN NEW YORK. BLŪ AGH! The phone flies from her hand and onto the bed as she seizes, flying back and hitting the wall with a thud—then dramatically backing up into the closet, closing both doors and exclaiming in the darkness BLŪ (CONT'D) I'm gonna die like this. OH NO. HE'S IN BROOKLYN?! RIGHT NOW?! SKRILLEX I'M IN BROOKLYN. RIGHT NOW. WHY WOULD HE BE IN BROOKLYN. I'M IN BROOKLYN. (heavy New York accent) I'M IN BROOKLYN. (even heavier New York accent) I'M IN BROOKLYN. (*hawks loogie, spits*) [very ugly cry] I was expecting to see some cheesy picture like I had just a couple years before—or however long it had been. So much time had passed and I had no doubt there was still more and that I wouldn't be seeing Sonny tonight, or even anytime soon—still, I was headed towards the rooftop to collect my stones, and though the tickets were sold out and there were said to be none at the door, I was headed for the train before I even knew why, or what was happening. Well, he's out of the basement. BITCH GET OUT THE ATTICK I'm in the closet now, I had a heart attack, I'm in a panic You need a manual? This is a stick shift This is some sick shit Click click, bitch I got witches in automatic Automatic It was 11:11 AM; I had never been to Manhattan so early before, at least not from Brooklyn; I knew my way to Equinox Sports club easily by now, without getting lost, or much hassle; it was an easy one hour train ride—and this morning, even easier; the writing came automatically, rather than forced, as it had been, and the ride went by almost too quickly, despite a full train and a flurry of emotions I worked heartfully to keep in check. ‘This changes nothing.' , I thought, more awestruck than anything and trying to convince myself nothing had changed, though something certainly had. Manhattan looked even better in the daylight—clear and sunny, and even a bit warm; babies in strollers and dogs on leashes and for a moment or two, I might have even forgotten I was homeless, dropping 2.5 Jimmy Fallons on a piping hot coffee at the shop I had always passed, but was never open. I would be at Sports Club until close, as I had planned to be all week but had always fallen short of, struck with jet lag and crippling depression at the same time—but today, and even if it was for the best that I couldn't seem to get exactly what I wanted, If even just out of sheer disbelief, I had at least been shaken out of my tomb, if only for a moment, and into work mode, still grieving the self I had lost in the collision of stardust and superstardom, fame, and misfortune—tears still on the brink of rolling down my cheek, and the cost of sicccess a grueling question burning somewhere between my still bleeding heart, and somewhere in the back of my mind. ‘Its like a fucked up cheaper by the dozen' And I still haven't frgotten about Dillon Francis, But Sonny seems to fuck me up a bit, —and then some It's just an addendum: I flipped the script and went dumb Here's my number, Christopher Columbus; And a bumper sticker Still a nigger Still a nothing trying to make it bigger Still a little off my rocker, Like I bought, at Cracker Barrel I'm still scared of marriage, Mind my manners, like Harriet Tubman Somebody's up to somethin' Better suck it up and get some crunches in Before I go to lunch And jump from too high up Or hang off of some bridge Just to get to the dimension Where it's Skrillex in the picture With Dillon standing next to him, And I'm just in the middle, Front and center With an Emmy Win An Oscar nomination, And a Tony, where my Grammy is: A curio cabinet I had custom fashioned for my bathroom; Next to the magazine rack, actually— Where I'm on every cover wearing fabrics I myself imagined, shining like a dragon eating laffy taffy; Fuck, I Suck at mathematics, —But I finally got my masters degree. Nice. Jeez, It would be tragic to have it all go up in ashes Lighting matches just to get the smell of gas to shatter— Or to dissipate, I estimate I'm 40 minutes late, But if I make it, I'll get naked on the plane, For heaven's sake. What the fuck is this. Some Sunnï Blū shit, I guess. “I guess.” I'm still mad at the world, I'm still mad at your girl, for being better than me So mad I could hurl, But I'm still fasting, actually; It's intermittent, In a minute, I might turn to Skrillex, Talk to Fred Again Then take some medicine And finally finish, like- “I did it” Oh look, it's Fred. Yep. Oh. Hi. It's Fred Again. That's me. Oh. Hey there. It's Fred..Again. Fucking a. JIMMY THE MOBSTER Alright, Jimmy—you sick sonofabitch. JIMMY FALLON —just kill me already. JIMMY THE MOBSTER WHERE IS IT. JIMMY FALLON Where is what. JIMMY THE MOBSTER YOU KNOW WHAT. JIMMY FALLON I don't know what. JIMMY THE MOBSTER —my medallion. JIMMY FALLON You were wearing a medallion? JIMMY THE MOBSTER I'M ALWAYS WEARING MY MEDALLION JIMMY FALLON How am I supposed to know that JIMMY THE MOBSTER there's only me and you here— JIMMY FALLON you know what they say—threes a crowd— JIMMY THE MOBSTER Listen, Jimmy Fallon, you illiterate motherfucker! JIMMY FALON I'm not illiterate; I'm very well read. JIMMY THE MOBSTER oh yeah! What was the last book you read? JIMMY FALLON … JIMMY THE MOBSTER …that's what I thought. [beat] JIMMY THE MOBSTER grabs JIMMY FALLON by the shoulders abrasively JIMMY THE MOBSTER (CONT'D) WHERE'S MY MEDALLION, JIMMY!?! JIMMY FALLON I DON'T—KNOW! JIMMY THE MOBSTER YOU DO KNOW! JIMMY FALLON NO, I DONT—you blindfolded and kidnapped me! JIMMY THE MOBSTER I kidnapped you?! C'mon' you're like 50- JIMMY FALLON I'm 42. JIMMY THE MOBSTER —I snatched you. “Snached” hm. I like that. MEANWHILE, in HOLLYWOOD This is a serious job… It's a job. A serious job. I'll take it. Wtf is this dude into. Whippets and women— Like every-other Hollywood nigga Stop using the n'word. It makes white people uncomfortable. Imagine what it's like being called the n word like it's your name. FLASHBACK BEVERLY HILLS, CALIFORNIA PRODUCER YOURE JUST A NIGGER SLAVE. (That actually happened.) Anyway. As you can see, or might have guessed, I'm desperate for attention, Sonny followed me to Brooklyn, But never even mentioned it: I should have figured he was listening, When I heard Renaissance, And lost the mixtape that I did That Skrillex took it off of Glad It didn't win the Grammy I'd be mad if it had. Cause I was on it! Not Exactly. Swear to God, I might have lost it, Heard applause and started walking Nodded off, And woke up in a coffin Coughs, What a photographer. DILLON FRANCIS has been buried alive, inside of a coffin. I love this scene. He really is a good actor. (In my mind.) Dude, you are creep level 1 Billion. Whatever, he followed me to Brooklyn. I am you. You know what, That is something I would do if I was stupid rich and… And what. I had fallen in love with Sonny Moore, not at first sight—but at first glance; it seemed he had been quite literally tossed into my broken and shattered world, and— What, I'm an animal! Did you fuck? Should I have? I would have. I know you would have. I'm not Annie; She is pretty, and fun; An addict, an alcoholic And formerly, my other half When I was one, But now I'm half of half of half And then some; I've been numb, I've never felt like this, Since I've been struck. I guess if I drink, I'll be a big drunk; And If I die before I ever wake I'll be in big luck Honestly, After Kayla Lauren, I didn't give a fuck Been thinking of jumping, Then something hit me like a big truck I love eating. There was some sort of event on the basketball court at Sports Club; I had been there already two entire hours, and spent most of it in the sauna, still followed by coughing people, I knew I still wasn't out or the heap of madness or broken from any spell or curse it might have been — and it wasn't fair, I wasn't fair skinned, and it didn't make a difference at all what had happened; I still wanted to end it. I'm losing my mind again Losing a light again Losing my light, But if I run to find it I just might I just might —I'll fly like a kite. He's trying to kill me. He's not doing a bad job. Don't know what i'm working towards; Don't know what i'm running for— Don't know about Sonny Moore (He's not for me;) Or so I thought before, therefore— I take metformin I'm still homeless, Searching for a metaphor, An aquafir, And somewhere to plug my phone in (Better than being ignored and drinking tap water, On the fourth floor) Housing is a human right I hate this place It's just not right I'm sick of fighting I'm not racist; Just not fucking white enough To run for red and right; I guess I'm blū then. I could be crying in the sauna. But I guess I'm writing you a message It's just a bullet in my head It's just another lesson It's just another test, at best It's just an algorithm; Go back to my nest And rest for just a minute This is season 6 of Legends, Now I'm turning to a villain I keep coming up with Skrillex, But I gave my heart to Dillon Here's a tiny violin; It's getting violent since intermission Ultraviolet light, And impolite fixations, Revelations, Realizations, Revolutions, Reservations Let's set a date then— Is it fucking coughs, Or is it Satan? I hate this. You would want to jump in front of a train, too If for years. No matter what you did or where you went People came around you and just started coughing That's such an evil fucking thing to experience For someone who never wanted anything But to be loved But was always too fat Too black And just altogether too anything to ever experience love, joy, and happiness the way other people do And so, it must be hell Cause all I do is love, and love, and love And just get shit on And coughed at And called retarded And falling short of success I'm not heartless I just carry rocks around And get followed by coughing bodies My life fuckin sucks, man I just want to turn the simulation off, And on again I just want to take a long nap, And wake up in the arms of a man I just want a booking manager, And an orgasm. And a ham sandwhich, And my land back, And to be happy Or maybe like half a xanex Wanna throw myself down on the train tracks I want a can of spam and pancakes Like breakfast made by my dad I want to hold hands, And a whole home, with a landing pad Or maybe just an address, and a gas lamp Or a campfire Timestamp that. This is the third and final act. I can't fall for this again— Another rich and handsome man— A dream he wants to be my friend A dream he wants to hold my hand Oh look, Another dance for anthem Look, I'm just another fan No, I can't fall for this again —but they would go against the plan A simple programming error, Lips the color of a pomagranite Circle on the palm, And then , of course, We press the center And look, here we are again Another life, Another love A new wife— Another husband Honest? I'm just good with fucking —aha I just want to fuck you I got love, but what it good for Look at me, or look at nothing! Look, I'm just good with fucking Check the news for new engagements Fucking sick and fucking tragic Nothing more than actors, DJs, drinks and addicts Look, I'm just a happy accident— I still hate Dillon Francis And I never wanted Skrillex: That shit never even happened! Have you had enough yet?! Carrot cake does sound good Ten karat long engagement ring— Is that a lot? I'm just a homeless Look, I'm just another DJ Some fake model stole it Some would call it occult Magic —honest? I just want some dick, man Fuck it —aha I just want to fuck you I got love, but what it good for Look at me, or look at nothing! Look, I'm just good with fucking You know why you like me?! Yes, I know why I like you— Cause I'm rich! —no, actually—it's because you're smart. Where in the fuck are you going? I don't know yet. Well, know faster—we have company. Fuck. Destroy every bit of evidence. Ok. —and make sure nobody sees you. Yeah, right! YO. Why the fuck are you here, Timmy? I told you, I'm not Timmy. I don't give a fuck who you are—where's my money? It's— it's on the way, I promise. I'm don't take well tk promises, Timmy. What do you take well to? Money. FUCK. What! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! What?! We're too late, she's gone! Goddammit. —She was already here! FUCK. FUCK. FUCK! >>> FUCK! How do you know? —there's glitter, everywhere. Is it gone? It's gone? ALL OF IT. TIMMY TRUMPET plays a SKRILLEX. Etto, Timmy?! Oh shit, another Timmy. That's weird. I was just thinking he about Skrillex. Why. Timmy, put a shirt on. That's it. What. You can't be hot and play the trumpet. Why. One thing's gotta go. THE DEVIL takes away Timmy Trumpet's ability to play the trumpet. WHAT. Can't have both. Well, I don't really need both now, do I? When I'm in a tough spot I have to listen to deadmau5 —something about the precision and frequencies out my brain somewhere between auropilot and dead space. I don't know. I've done just about everything you can think of listening to deadmau5. Almost. But, I noticed— Working out to deadmau5 is strange. It puts me in some kind of vibration where people notice me— Not just notice me. People are suddenly “impressed” with whatever it is I'm doing. And it's usually something regular as fuck— I'm just doing it to deadmau5. And for some reason, people are like “Wooooow!!” Okay, whatever. I used to work out to Skrillex. Actually. I used to work out to only Skrillex. I don't know if its just because I was fat, or cause I liked Skrillex. Now its like running a serrated knife up my spine. I started to figure out I was kind of famou— Kind of— When I showed up at the gym and Skrillex songs kept coming on I'm like “This is what I get for doing nothing but free trials” But hey, You try finding a gym in the shitty areas of New York worth paying for. It's very hard. The crazy thing about this story is— There's a lot of crazy things about this story, actually. EXT. BASKETBALL COURT. DAY. Alright— shirts and skins —Shirt—Skin Shirt,Skin— Uhh! Nah. I wanna be “shirts” Why dude?! Your girl's mad hot! So?! So I know you got it goin on! Look at you! I'm mad rich! Yeah—but girls always cheat on flabby rich dudes! With hotter dudes. My girlfriend might be cheating on me! Yeah—She's not, though. How do you know? Cause I tried! Yeah. Take your shirt off. No—uh! How do you know she's just not into you! Because! He tried— HE tried! You sell out. And Andre tried— [ANDRE is tall (about 6'9 dark, and handsome] —you too, bro? [ANDRE shrugs nonchalantly] That's an NBA player— What the FUCK, YO. —and she said NO. ANDRE Yup. Shot me down. Oh really—from all the way up there?! Face it, man! You're fuckin hot! I don't like the way that sounds coming from you— Take your shirt off! Were you this aggressive with my girl?! Don't be like that… Nah— fuck you! Yo! C'mon, man— And you three! You're holding up the game getting mad over nothing. It's Hollywood! It's Beverly Hills! —Exactly my point! You're new here—you'll catch on. You know what! I'm shirts—you're skins—Game on. [SUNNI BLU goes beast mode and plays the dirtiest, most whoopass game in history—out of spite and anger of the toxic masculinity; this of course earns SUNNI BLU even more respect as a “man's man”] Later: as the owner of the clippers, sunni BLU trades “Andre” to the worst basketball team in history. For, As soon as the moon is full, She also begins to wane— And as sure as we are to shine, We also fade away I had one slice of red velvet cake, one slice of cheesecake—which of course only reminded me of Sonny Moore—the decadent, delicious red velvet—and Dillon Francis—the spiced and ecclectic trademark carrot cake—if only not to sooty the pain of joe much I wanted both of them, but probably didn't need them—how I craved them so, but they probably weren't good for me, nor would they last— —but they would both be delicious, anyhow. The seagull said. “To the sea, we go!” Overhead, he flies As the day goes by me Idly, I wait— I could take a ride, But i'd rather be By myself, By my… INT. EMPIRE ENPANADAS. NIGHT You gonna order? What you got? Empanadas. Just empanadas? —Yeah. Okay, that's weird. Lol the only thing funny about this scene is that their New York accents are so atrociously heavy. Right. —weird. INT. SUBWAY STATION. DAY. Sunni BLU is passed out in the subway station. Ew… Yeah, my god. Wait—is that— —sunni?! SUNNI drunkenly groans. Sunni! Get up! Ughhhh. What are you doing?! I'm drunk. I know that. You're always drunk. Yeah. What are you doing here. What. In the subway. I do this sometimes. What. For what?! You never know who you're gonna meet. In the subway On the floor?! YeH! I met R- Kelly down here! What! When was this Not at this station, though, but yeah. To think, It was all just an awful game, to make you write more songs— And in the end, if you don't make the cut They just make you kill yourself, anyway. Love isn't real, but money is; And all men want is money, So they can buy the love— And all women want is love— But it has to come with money Or it all just falls apart It all just falls apart It all just falls apart “Illuminatus”, Open, close Illuminaudio, for starters Cross a crucifix for sons, and wanted daughters What's a brother to a sister— Or a mother to a father? What's a stop sign to a car, If no one's driving? In the end, they kill you off In the end, they kill you off With every cough, they kill you off— But there's always another Who wants to be a star— Or just The mother of his child, Maybe both Genetic lotto luck —the cut off. Agatha… A far cry, out into the distance–a wind, almost a whisper; A lover, long gone and almost since forgotten, unseen since the very dawn of time and first ever glimpse of light– …We Meet Again. FUCK. WHAT IS THIS. I know, man. FUCK. Fuck. Well, are you gonna tell this story or not? This isn't possible. It is possible. This isn't happening. – This dude has a radio tower in his front yard. That's his front yard?! I fucking guess. What is that. That's a satilite. Nice. Yep. Alright, you son of a bitch. Hey! My mom's nice! Not that nice–bringing you here. How do you know that's how I got here? Exactly my point. [cocks pistol slowly.] You're dead, mouse. OH. I GET IT. kill that motherfucker. Wait. Hold up. Hold the phone! Holding. How did we get to this point? I mean– a few ways. What are you watching. SHH. Wedon'tknow. SHHH. OK! SHHHHHHH! IT' getting good. Ya. It's getting deeper. So much deeper. WAit. … Who are you? I'm a fan. No. How did you get in my house? It's my house. It's– –no. No, it's not. YEs. this is my house. No. What. GEt out. SHH. What. DUde– No. Ze show is on and it is getting one deeper. Be quiet. IT's getting two deeper. –like nine deeper. SHHH. Oh, I get it. She really wants to fuck Dillon Francis. #FuckDillonFrancis Uh, no– I already did that. Gross. Excuse me. You are excused! I mean, I beg your pardon. Please, don't beg. Er, uh– Could you repeat that last part? Woah, this gets multidimensional as fuck. I have a time machine. Are there any loopholes? There are loopholes. THere better be loopholes. Sorry, we're out. GodDAMMIT. What. I was really looking forward to those loopholes. Well, they're gone. FUCK. HEre, have some Oh-Noh's. I don't want– Just SHUT UP and EAT YOUR CEREAL. Don't worry–I'm still Team Skrillex. There are TEAMS?! Oh, yeah, bro. Oh, so–it is a love story. I don't think that's what this is. I'M GONNA MURDER YOU. Ok. WITH MY DICK. A-1. There's something I need to tell you. What. But i'm sworn to secrecy Then how am I supposed to– Just–shh– follow my lead. “The Magic Effect.” Did it work? Don't know yet. You nutted to this girl 36 times in the last 20 Calendar days. Ok… 36 Times. One Girl. 20 Days. …What's your point. This is ferocious. I have your entire internet history. All of it? Oh yes. All of it. Welp. Well. THat's it for me. I've had enough. There's no Skrillex Deepfake. Aw. that sux. Why would you look at this? …why not, though? You're a disturbed man. I'm pretty regular. REGULR TO WHO? *shrugs* Me, I guess. TURN THIS OFF. I can't take it anymore. Whatever happened to the– SHHH. Fuck. I'm so wasted. So what do you think is gonna happen? Listen. I have a lot to get through. THis is all just nonsense. I think we're avoiding some heavy subjects, here. Well, there are a lot of discrepancies. Kill yourself. I just did. Kill yourself–again. I–GodDAMMIT. Just do it. NO. Come on. Congratulations, you got the job! Yes! Thank you! …What's the job? I need you to get the fuck out of here in the next five seconds–before I blow my head off, and take you with me. Don't do that. Five… Yo, i'm serious. Four… Jesus Christ, dude. YOu don't think this hits a little close to home. Home? what is home? For the Record, Skrillex, Dillon Francis, and Deadmau5 respectively are all getting their dicks sucked on yachts right now in some foreign exotic country– You're not wrong. That is correct. Standard music business. And People are living in tents under bridges. I'm just saying. If you think this project is reckless and bizarre, check your own simulation. So. So. Where were we? Somewhere between blowing our heads off and getting our dicks sucked? I'm sure there's a striking correlation somewhere. ‘My Candle Burns At Both Ends…' Oh, More Occult Magic God Bless The Illuminati GOD I Am The Illuminati Glad that's settled. Three. Goddamit, don't do this. Two– [cocks pistol] Why just pistols. Cause shotguns are messy– –and for dramatic effect; I love that sound. [the other party quickly removes his handgun from his waistband, shooting the other man and then himself quickly; They now both lay dead.] How do I write this Just write it. I need adderall. You need Jesus. By goD, youre right. [iPhone] What are you doing? Calling on Jesus. Are you serious. He's the plug. Ugh. I need adderall. What did I do?! YOu know what you did. ∆ Well, alright then. ∆ Must be something. ∆ I got it. “The Legend of Supacree” L E G E N D S “Tales of A Superstar DJ” To do: Cut Freaky Friday 001 Cut Throwback Thursday 001 Cut SOM III Part I {God Is God] Part II [Clockwork] –Pull 212 Remix It's far beyond my control I get out of my head and into my soul In one ear, never out the other If the wind blew down your door, How would I call for you? —Through her, I suppose And the silk of her hair, Or the satin of her dress, — Oh, it's almost admissible, Surely admirable, Worth a smile or not, That all the world is words, In the end, As I tear down my worlds, and start over from One And I've already stopped enough once for today, I think Surely, what you'd like is just The time to get it all to nothing (Never had I wanted it or needed it) The phone was ringing, But I'll never be off the hook again, If you look for the proper way to move forward, You'll never find it, Especially looking behind you (Always looking behind you— Head in the past Just like you It's just like me, Too, To sit down and decide a whole song about you While taking it all down. I'm never distraught with the thoughts of a stranger, Oh, on the contrary; You should be mad about battle, But I'm all for the veterans and And never off if we were not at war with one another, but Then again, That's all we've ever done It would be Devastating To even think of Something more clever “Clever and splendiferous confectionary efforts, Just spectacular concessions my dear; I'll have another.” Hadn't I deciphered once or twice the rhyme for riddles down to dollars and cents? I did, I thought, once. I never hindered Heaven from pondering over my shoulder once or twice upon a full lit moon, which under I predicted my own fortune. Once— or twice, but— Nevermind, or nothing; Indifference, for instance, instantly inscessent ancestral insimination incriminating risidual visuals uhh— —From the festival. Right. The festival project. [—Parallels.—] GOD: So you want to be The “Glass Animals” *nods* Glass Animals. That's what I said. Glass Animals There's no “The” Context. Ok. So–”Glass Animals” *nods* Are you sure you don't want to be made of something else? *nods* *shrugs* Okayy. Glas Animals. I'm lost, But don't remind me Running out of time But time can't find me Open up my eye 10 times in 9 days I should probably fall away Back to the bay, No baby, don't cry No baby, don't cry No baby, don't cry [Midnight Request Line.] Sleek black corvette. Not a dent, not a scratch And I am feeling better, Since you asked What a warm and welcome Pleasant, wet suprise What do I owe you the—time I guess it made me smile for awhile, now I'm sad again— Wow, that was quick… Only took a second, but don't mind my arrogance ‘—I play this and it puts me in a trance.' I want to dance with you I hope someone holds my hand like that, one day Where are you taking me? “Away, my dear, away…”, he's saying… I lie awake midday and taking shallow breaths, I drift away A weapon for my empathy, [Midnight Request Line.] I have no idea what happened. ‘Ambiguous Ambitions - The Crossing ‘ A shiver up my spine I don't really mind, I'm still trying to find the word for it— But tongue in cheek it is That's—if it fits You but me once, And I liked it Come bite me twice If you buy it; Alright, Ryan—where is it? Where is what? You know what I'm talking about. I don't know anything! “Ryan Remembers Everything” Goddamn it, wake up. I need silence. GET UP, GODDAMNIT. Okay— Okay— —I just need you to tell me where it is— Where what is?! I don't think this is very funny. This got serious. Ouch. I don't want to watch TV anymore ever again. I really wish you'd tell me Oh, you wish? Watch this. I'm sorry, Ryan. Hello. I—hello. I'll have a tall order of whatever's in that box. You want what's in that box? Yessir. What is happening? I dunno. I'm afraid that's going to be a problem. *gasp* can we have ninjas? *NINJAS* NINJA FIGHT. —oh sht rly. *lmfao* Sometimes i'm set in my ways, Sometimes days go by—days, In the blink of an eye, Ever since I decided, I might have had love with you. I think we have some things to figure out, about it —it being ourselves, And washing my hands never felt so right In my life Somebody told me the stars in the sky were spirit guides, And it stuck, I'm up all night, But i'm the only star I see In New York City Don't look up to see me— Don't look up to me please, kid, really I mean, why, my baby? I mean, Hi lady— You so fly tonight, just my delight I — Like the way I look by you I— You know, If I sit in the city every night like this, And write, It just might Be the end of me Be the end of me Be the end of me You know, If I did get the limelight, Right on time to soothe and Satiate my need to be an idol LC Even this late in life, Like— —fuck ‘8I just want him to like me' I shouldn't even think about Superstardom like that, But I'll be right back, I gotta get the rabbit out the White hat, What a habit to have, huh What an idea that we might all get along Or a lot done Or be better off alone Than just to fuck off And write another song— Because the audience will like it But we're all over it; It's all done, isn't it? “The Running Game” I don't know what you want to hear from me. How about, “I'm sorry.” Ok, I'm sorry. You don't do much, do you? I guess I don't. Sabotage//Salvation Idk what this is supposed to mean. This is my demise. You're completely a ticking time bomb. You're not wrong. Salvation, from the doldrums. A sound to soothe my soul, I sink beneath you, Sout

SEASON 6 ACT III - Part II Oh no. I told you, this was a bad idea DONT CHECK THE— It's too late. “A Writing Assignment” Fuxk. This is bad. I'M GONNA DIE LIKE THIS. Well, it's Brooklyn—there's gonna be a fire escape and a rooftop. This is creeper level 9000 Whatever. Where'd the bass go? I've lost my sense of direction I'm mad I can't have you, It's candid I shouldn't be out here like this l I should have gone to Manhattan Are you mad, man— At the mad hatter! At the course of action in this rendition fuxk, it is Skrillex. I just went to look for Kayla Lauren. Got hit with the other one instead. “I insist, do it this way” Better get a good picture, Better get a good fix on your riches Maybe this is why my scar was lighting up all morning Maybe that's the reason I was off. Without my phone all day. Maybe that's the reason I was fasting. Good Goddamnit man, You're awful good at acting Awful good at grabbing ass, And awful good at dancing Awful good at making friends And awful good at First things first, And first things last, and after— Amsterdam I never guessed where York was at I never asked I never asked I never asked FUCK. What, man. I think Skrillex listens to my podcast. Well, that's, uh. Fuck that. Fuxk that. Fuck that. Well, that's one hell of a flex. It's a pop up. I just had a dream about surfing. Better stop, God. There might be a show for every day of the week. I'm still weak in the knees. I don't know what I need. I'm still a mothafuckin Skrillex fiend. Have a nice dream. Have some ice cream. There's the ice queen. That's been three times since my eye started bleeding. I thought I was just an MC, Or a DJ, I might take the soul train But don't have a ticket Thanks. Now whose the dick. Well , I'm just taking pictures. How's Dillon Francis. Now that's a priority. I can't ShaZam from out here, you know. I called my dad. I thought you had no family. Same thing as having no home, or, No where to go, I'm no homer, I'm sitting here, hopeless, outside or your show— Not hoping to see you, or anything I'll be you, inside my dreams, Sequels for everything Sequences, sequins and diamon rings, Sequoias and I still have feelings for I still have feelings for Feelings for everything This is the weakest I've been since I needed you 2019 was the year that the hero Was broke Well. That's it. What. That's the whole thing. Can't be the whole thing Do you want to take a half, or a whole thing Do you want to wear the pants, or the whole ring Should I take a flight to France, or to Oakland Stuck in a chokehold, God, I'm too old for this God, I just want to go home; Here's a long rope to hang your self with— Now I'm locked up in homeroom I lost it all once, got it all at the pawnshop For $96 dollars— The original price tag, of course, read $115 though. I honestly thought I never wanted to see Skrillex again, but as it turned out— as I was, of course, trying to connect with closure, snooping into Instagram just to find evidence or romance, which I did—not that I needed anything more than a glance to ensure my own insanity—and it was that, insanity. Don't do it. —but it's Valentine's Day. Don't do it. Goddamnit, I hate this. I hadn't been up this early without not having gone to bed since I arrived on the east coast; I woke up promptly around 8 with lyrics in my brain and music in my head; it had been a long and strange night, with no dreams at all—at least none that I could remember, and it had been long since I had woken up with anything in my mind besides fear and panic. I refused to turn on my phone, quickly reaching for my notebook and a pen before the song would leave my mind—I had a lot of work to do, and for whatever reason I actually felt like doing it; I at least had the train ride to Manhattan to think about what I should be thinking about, or to unravel from whatever I was wrapped up in, even if it was just myself. This is not a coincidence This is not a drill; Of course, now— I feel like the villain; To swallow Dillon like a pill But In the end, though, Nothing's real, And nothing changes, Nothing will I should be working on my will I think of jumping— What a thrill I'm busy thumping, humphing Rumbling, mumbling about something And someday never comes, But Sunday does, And Sonny shows up Monday— I feel dumb, and awkward, suddenly— I'm just an awkward cunt; That's what the prophet wrote Upon the wall In Brooklyn, Out on Broadway, Where I was, Before the fall off; I gave my dad a call, And then my son— That's all that love was I showed up with my whole heart in my pocket What a long walk; What an alter, Whatever the sun does When he doesn't watch I'm Sasquatch, But it's water, starch, And crunches ‘This is not a coincidence.' I had spent the day before, valentines day, combing through my belongings meticulously—I was due to check out the following morning, and without much thought I had thought of another extension, which would of course diminish the last of my money, but at least warrant another couple nights safe and warm. I hadn't made any sense to look for a normal job-not only would the process or getting hired take up all the rest of my time, but it would be two to three weeks before I would receive any kind of paycheck at all—and with such little time left living indoors, It didn't make sense to try. I had been stranded in New York since a arrived on the 4th, and though it had nearly been two weeks, I hadn't any luck in landing any gigs or performances. Jetro of course was still waiting with Blame Society records in Rome for my arrival, I hadn't even thought to notify him of the lack of such, as I partially blamed even alerting him that I was on my way via instragrwm for the flight delay that had caused me to miss my train, which of course caused me to miss my plane, landing me stuck in a hostile, cruel, and homeless USA. I carry, or Hold no stones for you; Haven't I a heart left It's the darkest of all the hours, And here you are, again— Not near, or far, But a bet is a bet, An eye for an eye And a head for a head And you're so far ahead, I've yet to catch up yet I have a gift for your daughter, Often, I've thought of her Lost in New York, No glass houses, It's just brick and mortar She calls me retarded, my mother So I haven't called her I just keep running north I just keep running my mouth on this podcast I just keep thinking that someone's my long lost love, at last You dirty bastard I'm an asshole: Handsome, Hanzel is In case it mattered Everyone's a fucking actor Look at that girl And look at that And look at that And look at that girl And look at that And look at that You took my whole world Turned it upside down And bottled up my love l You never told me where the bottle was But showed me what a model was And after that I fell in love with Something about doing drugs and Coming up with love to give to others Turning pigeons into doves And wishing I could just be nothin' —cause my life was fuckin loveless —and I thought you were my husband (Fuck Kayla Lauren; But I guess I gotta love her, Cause she's human) I took my time getting ready, no time, actually, in comparison to how slowly I had been moving throughout the week, and although I had been to the gym daily, I was worn, and tired—and coming up empty on all fronts. It was 10:14 or so by the time I finally made my way to the subway, ‘I'm still off', I thought— but not only couldn't I depressively sulk and lay in bed the way I thought I would or even maybe wanted to, I had been lifted out of my sleep and on my way to Equinox with a startling force—though I shouldn't have at all been suprised; this, whether consciously or not, I realized, had always happened when it came to the matter of the mysterious Sonny Moore. ‘Fuck' It was late evening Monday before the anxiety started to set in, and for some reason had been the reason I had decided to turn on my phone, to extend my reservation another couple days, buying time in comfort and warmth, on the freedom of privacy, which I had done nothing with but rest and try to be whole again, whatever that was—and whatever it meant. I had been cooking for the first time in months, stretching, and meditating the ways that only seemed to come natural when having my own time and space —and though it wasn't wholly my own, it was clean, peaceful, and quiet—included it's very own space heater, and was decorated in my favorite color blue. My host was an actual working professional who had succeeded in the entertainment industry—which of course made me jealous, but I at the very least had done my best to network and perhaps nitpick an easygoing cash job out of it “I have some connections”, she had piped—and so, with that in mind, I had sent her my links; and of course, with my extension being the reason for even having turned on my phone, was quick to check my text messages to see if there had been any movement with the booking agent she had supposedly sent my information to. “I gave him your Instagram, and so he'll probably reach out to you through there if he's interested.” I hated Instagram and it seemed to hate me, even before the devastating discovery of what a Kayla Lauren was, it had always seemingly been algorithmically programmed to make me hate myself, always spamming my feed with skinny white girls with blue eyes, which I only hated, admittedly out of bitter loneliness—the guys I seemed to like and fall for had always seemed to go for that type—white, skinny, blue eyes or some variation of the “ideal” standard of beauty, especially by Californian standards—and so I had always taken long breaks from it, shielding myself from self hatred: my absolute theory becoming that Instagram was an algorithm built for population control, preying on the weak and insecure, and probably attributing to more suicides than anyone had noticed or cared for. Lil biiiiiitz You know what else is weird about New York. People eat on the subway. They eat in the train station. They just— It's kind of gross; at least to me. Of course, the trains in New York are a lot cleaner. Sometimes the station even smells like bleach. That's so cool. Still don't want to eat in there. That's weird. INT. CHAUNCEY STREET. SUNDOWN | VALENTINES DAY BLŪ waits patiently for Instagram to download, sighing heavily as she waits; As it has finished, she rolls her eyes and opens the app, squinting and pursing her lips as she quickly checks for messages: only adds, nothing important. BLŪ Of course, no messages. Psh. She exits the app, thinking for a moment before re-opening it. Don't do it. SEARCH: Sk— INSTAGRAM skrillex You never learn. BLŪ watches the story, for the most part, unenthused—until TONIGHT: BROOKLYN NEW YORK. BLŪ AGH! The phone flies from her hand and onto the bed as she seizes, flying back and hitting the wall with a thud—then dramatically backing up into the closet, closing both doors and exclaiming in the darkness BLŪ (CONT'D) I'm gonna die like this. OH NO. HE'S IN BROOKLYN?! RIGHT NOW?! SKRILLEX I'M IN BROOKLYN. RIGHT NOW. WHY WOULD HE BE IN BROOKLYN. I'M IN BROOKLYN. (heavy New York accent) I'M IN BROOKLYN. (even heavier New York accent) I'M IN BROOKLYN. (*hawks loogie, spits*) [very ugly cry] I was expecting to see some cheesy picture like I had just a couple years before—or however long it had been. So much time had passed and I had no doubt there was still more and that I wouldn't be seeing Sonny tonight, or even anytime soon—still, I was headed towards the rooftop to collect my stones, and though the tickets were sold out and there were said to be none at the door, I was headed for the train before I even knew why, or what was happening. Well, he's out of the basement. BITCH GET OUT THE ATTICK I'm in the closet now, I had a heart attack, I'm in a panic You need a manual? This is a stick shift This is some sick shit Click click, bitch I got witches in automatic Automatic It was 11:11 AM; I had never been to Manhattan so early before, at least not from Brooklyn; I knew my way to Equinox Sports club easily by now, without getting lost, or much hassle; it was an easy one hour train ride—and this morning, even easier; the writing came automatically, rather than forced, as it had been, and the ride went by almost too quickly, despite a full train and a flurry of emotions I worked heartfully to keep in check. ‘This changes nothing.' , I thought, more awestruck than anything and trying to convince myself nothing had changed, though something certainly had. Manhattan looked even better in the daylight—clear and sunny, and even a bit warm; babies in strollers and dogs on leashes and for a moment or two, I might have even forgotten I was homeless, dropping 2.5 Jimmy Fallons on a piping hot coffee at the shop I had always passed, but was never open. I would be at Sports Club until close, as I had planned to be all week but had always fallen short of, struck with jet lag and crippling depression at the same time—but today, and even if it was for the best that I couldn't seem to get exactly what I wanted, If even just out of sheer disbelief, I had at least been shaken out of my tomb, if only for a moment, and into work mode, still grieving the self I had lost in the collision of stardust and superstardom, fame, and misfortune—tears still on the brink of rolling down my cheek, and the cost of sicccess a grueling question burning somewhere between my still bleeding heart, and somewhere in the back of my mind. ‘Its like a fucked up cheaper by the dozen' And I still haven't frgotten about Dillon Francis, But Sonny seems to fuck me up a bit, —and then some It's just an addendum: I flipped the script and went dumb Here's my number, Christopher Columbus; And a bumper sticker Still a nigger Still a nothing trying to make it bigger Still a little off my rocker, Like I bought, at Cracker Barrel I'm still scared of marriage, Mind my manners, like Harriet Tubman Somebody's up to somethin' Better suck it up and get some crunches in Before I go to lunch And jump from too high up Or hang off of some bridge Just to get to the dimension Where it's Skrillex in the picture With Dillon standing next to him, And I'm just in the middle, Front and center With an Emmy Win An Oscar nomination, And a Tony, where my Grammy is: A curio cabinet I had custom fashioned for my bathroom; Next to the magazine rack, actually— Where I'm on every cover wearing fabrics I myself imagined, shining like a dragon eating laffy taffy; Fuck, I Suck at mathematics, —But I finally got my masters degree. Nice. Jeez, It would be tragic to have it all go up in ashes Lighting matches just to get the smell of gas to shatter— Or to dissipate, I estimate I'm 40 minutes late, But if I make it, I'll get naked on the plane, For heaven's sake. What the fuck is this. Some Sunnï Blū shit, I guess. “I guess.” I'm still mad at the world, I'm still mad at your girl, for being better than me So mad I could hurl, But I'm still fasting, actually; It's intermittent, In a minute, I might turn to Skrillex, Talk to Fred Again Then take some medicine And finally finish, like- “I did it” Oh look, it's Fred. Yep. Oh. Hi. It's Fred Again. That's me. Oh. Hey there. It's Fred..Again. Fucking a. JIMMY THE MOBSTER Alright, Jimmy—you sick sonofabitch. JIMMY FALLON —just kill me already. JIMMY THE MOBSTER WHERE IS IT. JIMMY FALLON Where is what. JIMMY THE MOBSTER YOU KNOW WHAT. JIMMY FALLON I don't know what. JIMMY THE MOBSTER —my medallion. JIMMY FALLON You were wearing a medallion? JIMMY THE MOBSTER I'M ALWAYS WEARING MY MEDALLION JIMMY FALLON How am I supposed to know that JIMMY THE MOBSTER there's only me and you here— JIMMY FALLON you know what they say—threes a crowd— JIMMY THE MOBSTER Listen, Jimmy Fallon, you illiterate motherfucker! JIMMY FALON I'm not illiterate; I'm very well read. JIMMY THE MOBSTER oh yeah! What was the last book you read? JIMMY FALLON … JIMMY THE MOBSTER …that's what I thought. [beat] JIMMY THE MOBSTER grabs JIMMY FALLON by the shoulders abrasively JIMMY THE MOBSTER (CONT'D) WHERE'S MY MEDALLION, JIMMY!?! JIMMY FALLON I DON'T—KNOW! JIMMY THE MOBSTER YOU DO KNOW! JIMMY FALLON NO, I DONT—you blindfolded and kidnapped me! JIMMY THE MOBSTER I kidnapped you?! C'mon' you're like 50- JIMMY FALLON I'm 42. JIMMY THE MOBSTER —I snatched you. “Snached” hm. I like that. MEANWHILE, in HOLLYWOOD This is a serious job… It's a job. A serious job. I'll take it. Wtf is this dude into. Whippets and women— Like every-other Hollywood nigga Stop using the n'word. It makes white people uncomfortable. Imagine what it's like being called the n word like it's your name. FLASHBACK BEVERLY HILLS, CALIFORNIA PRODUCER YOURE JUST A NIGGER SLAVE. (That actually happened.) Anyway. As you can see, or might have guessed, I'm desperate for attention, Sonny followed me to Brooklyn, But never even mentioned it: I should have figured he was listening, When I heard Renaissance, And lost the mixtape that I did That Skrillex took it off of Glad It didn't win the Grammy I'd be mad if it had. Cause I was on it! Not Exactly. Swear to God, I might have lost it, Heard applause and started walking Nodded off, And woke up in a coffin Coughs, What a photographer. DILLON FRANCIS has been buried alive, inside of a coffin. I love this scene. He really is a good actor. (In my mind.) Dude, you are creep level 1 Billion. Whatever, he followed me to Brooklyn. I am you. You know what, That is something I would do if I was stupid rich and… And what. I had fallen in love with Sonny Moore, not at first sight—but at first glance; it seemed he had been quite literally tossed into my broken and shattered world, and— What, I'm an animal! Did you fuck? Should I have? I would have. I know you would have. I'm not Annie; She is pretty, and fun; An addict, an alcoholic And formerly, my other half When I was one, But now I'm half of half of half And then some; I've been numb, I've never felt like this, Since I've been struck. I guess if I drink, I'll be a big drunk; And If I die before I ever wake I'll be in big luck Honestly, After Kayla Lauren, I didn't give a fuck Been thinking of jumping, Then something hit me like a big truck I love eating. There was some sort of event on the basketball court at Sports Club; I had been there already two entire hours, and spent most of it in the sauna, still followed by coughing people, I knew I still wasn't out or the heap of madness or broken from any spell or curse it might have been — and it wasn't fair, I wasn't fair skinned, and it didn't make a difference at all what had happened; I still wanted to end it. I'm losing my mind again Losing a light again Losing my light, But if I run to find it I just might I just might —I'll fly like a kite. He's trying to kill me. He's not doing a bad job. Don't know what i'm working towards; Don't know what i'm running for— Don't know about Sonny Moore (He's not for me;) Or so I thought before, therefore— I take metformin I'm still homeless, Searching for a metaphor, An aquafir, And somewhere to plug my phone in (Better than being ignored and drinking tap water, On the fourth floor) Housing is a human right I hate this place It's just not right I'm sick of fighting I'm not racist; Just not fucking white enough To run for red and right; I guess I'm blū then. I could be crying in the sauna. But I guess I'm writing you a message It's just a bullet in my head It's just another lesson It's just another test, at best It's just an algorithm; Go back to my nest And rest for just a minute This is season 6 of Legends, Now I'm turning to a villain I keep coming up with Skrillex, But I gave my heart to Dillon Here's a tiny violin; It's getting violent since intermission Ultraviolet light, And impolite fixations, Revelations, Realizations, Revolutions, Reservations Let's set a date then— Is it fucking coughs, Or is it Satan? I hate this. You would want to jump in front of a train, too If for years. No matter what you did or where you went People came around you and just started coughing That's such an evil fucking thing to experience For someone who never wanted anything But to be loved But was always too fat Too black And just altogether too anything to ever experience love, joy, and happiness the way other people do And so, it must be hell Cause all I do is love, and love, and love And just get shit on And coughed at And called retarded And falling short of success I'm not heartless I just carry rocks around And get followed by coughing bodies My life fuckin sucks, man I just want to turn the simulation off, And on again I just want to take a long nap, And wake up in the arms of a man I just want a booking manager, And an orgasm. And a ham sandwhich, And my land back, And to be happy Or maybe like half a xanex Wanna throw myself down on the train tracks I want a can of spam and pancakes Like breakfast made by my dad I want to hold hands, And a whole home, with a landing pad Or maybe just an address, and a gas lamp Or a campfire Timestamp that. This is the third and final act. I can't fall for this again— Another rich and handsome man— A dream he wants to be my friend A dream he wants to hold my hand Oh look, Another dance for anthem Look, I'm just another fan No, I can't fall for this again —but they would go against the plan A simple programming error, Lips the color of a pomagranite Circle on the palm, And then , of course, We press the center And look, here we are again Another life, Another love A new wife— Another husband Honest? I'm just good with fucking —aha I just want to fuck you I got love, but what it good for Look at me, or look at nothing! Look, I'm just good with fucking Check the news for new engagements Fucking sick and fucking tragic Nothing more than actors, DJs, drinks and addicts Look, I'm just a happy accident— I still hate Dillon Francis And I never wanted Skrillex: That shit never even happened! Have you had enough yet?! Carrot cake does sound good Ten karat long engagement ring— Is that a lot? I'm just a homeless Look, I'm just another DJ Some fake model stole it Some would call it occult Magic —honest? I just want some dick, man Fuck it —aha I just want to fuck you I got love, but what it good for Look at me, or look at nothing! Look, I'm just good with fucking You know why you like me?! Yes, I know why I like you— Cause I'm rich! —no, actually—it's because you're smart. Where in the fuck are you going? I don't know yet. Well, know faster—we have company. Fuck. Destroy every bit of evidence. Ok. —and make sure nobody sees you. Yeah, right! YO. Why the fuck are you here, Timmy? I told you, I'm not Timmy. I don't give a fuck who you are—where's my money? It's— it's on the way, I promise. I'm don't take well tk promises, Timmy. What do you take well to? Money. FUCK. What! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! What?! We're too late, she's gone! Goddammit. —She was already here! FUCK. FUCK. FUCK! >>> FUCK! How do you know? —there's glitter, everywhere. Is it gone? It's gone? ALL OF IT. TIMMY TRUMPET plays a SKRILLEX. Etto, Timmy?! Oh shit, another Timmy. That's weird. I was just thinking he about Skrillex. Why. Timmy, put a shirt on. That's it. What. You can't be hot and play the trumpet. Why. One thing's gotta go. THE DEVIL takes away Timmy Trumpet's ability to play the trumpet. WHAT. Can't have both. Well, I don't really need both now, do I? When I'm in a tough spot I have to listen to deadmau5 —something about the precision and frequencies out my brain somewhere between auropilot and dead space. I don't know. I've done just about everything you can think of listening to deadmau5. Almost. But, I noticed— Working out to deadmau5 is strange. It puts me in some kind of vibration where people notice me— Not just notice me. People are suddenly “impressed” with whatever it is I'm doing. And it's usually something regular as fuck— I'm just doing it to deadmau5. And for some reason, people are like “Wooooow!!” Okay, whatever. I used to work out to Skrillex. Actually. I used to work out to only Skrillex. I don't know if its just because I was fat, or cause I liked Skrillex. Now its like running a serrated knife up my spine. I started to figure out I was kind of famou— Kind of— When I showed up at the gym and Skrillex songs kept coming on I'm like “This is what I get for doing nothing but free trials” But hey, You try finding a gym in the shitty areas of New York worth paying for. It's very hard. The crazy thing about this story is— There's a lot of crazy things about this story, actually. EXT. BASKETBALL COURT. DAY. Alright— shirts and skins —Shirt—Skin Shirt,Skin— Uhh! Nah. I wanna be “shirts” Why dude?! Your girl's mad hot! So?! So I know you got it goin on! Look at you! I'm mad rich! Yeah—but girls always cheat on flabby rich dudes! With hotter dudes. My girlfriend might be cheating on me! Yeah—She's not, though. How do you know? Cause I tried! Yeah. Take your shirt off. No—uh! How do you know she's just not into you! Because! He tried— HE tried! You sell out. And Andre tried— [ANDRE is tall (about 6'9 dark, and handsome] —you too, bro? [ANDRE shrugs nonchalantly] That's an NBA player— What the FUCK, YO. —and she said NO. ANDRE Yup. Shot me down. Oh really—from all the way up there?! Face it, man! You're fuckin hot! I don't like the way that sounds coming from you— Take your shirt off! Were you this aggressive with my girl?! Don't be like that… Nah— fuck you! Yo! C'mon, man— And you three! You're holding up the game getting mad over nothing. It's Hollywood! It's Beverly Hills! —Exactly my point! You're new here—you'll catch on. You know what! I'm shirts—you're skins—Game on. [SUNNI BLU goes beast mode and plays the dirtiest, most whoopass game in history—out of spite and anger of the toxic masculinity; this of course earns SUNNI BLU even more respect as a “man's man”] Later: as the owner of the clippers, sunni BLU trades “Andre” to the worst basketball team in history. For, As soon as the moon is full, She also begins to wane— And as sure as we are to shine, We also fade away I had one slice of red velvet cake, one slice of cheesecake—which of course only reminded me of Sonny Moore—the decadent, delicious red velvet—and Dillon Francis—the spiced and ecclectic trademark carrot cake—if only not to sooty the pain of joe much I wanted both of them, but probably didn't need them—how I craved them so, but they probably weren't good for me, nor would they last— —but they would both be delicious, anyhow. The seagull said. “To the sea, we go!” Overhead, he flies As the day goes by me Idly, I wait— I could take a ride, But i'd rather be By myself, By my… INT. EMPIRE ENPANADAS. NIGHT You gonna order? What you got? Empanadas. Just empanadas? —Yeah. Okay, that's weird. Lol the only thing funny about this scene is that their New York accents are so atrociously heavy. Right. —weird. INT. SUBWAY STATION. DAY. Sunni BLU is passed out in the subway station. Ew… Yeah, my god. Wait—is that— —sunni?! SUNNI drunkenly groans. Sunni! Get up! Ughhhh. What are you doing?! I'm drunk. I know that. You're always drunk. Yeah. What are you doing here. What. In the subway. I do this sometimes. What. For what?! You never know who you're gonna meet. In the subway On the floor?! YeH! I met R- Kelly down here! What! When was this Not at this station, though, but yeah. To think, It was all just an awful game, to make you write more songs— And in the end, if you don't make the cut They just make you kill yourself, anyway. Love isn't real, but money is; And all men want is money, So they can buy the love— And all women want is love— But it has to come with money Or it all just falls apart It all just falls apart It all just falls apart “Illuminatus”, Open, close Illuminaudio, for starters Cross a crucifix for sons, and wanted daughters What's a brother to a sister— Or a mother to a father? What's a stop sign to a car, If no one's driving? In the end, they kill you off In the end, they kill you off With every cough, they kill you off— But there's always another Who wants to be a star— Or just The mother of his child, Maybe both Genetic lotto luck —the cut off. Agatha… A far cry, out into the distance–a wind, almost a whisper; A lover, long gone and almost since forgotten, unseen since the very dawn of time and first ever glimpse of light– …We Meet Again. FUCK. WHAT IS THIS. I know, man. FUCK. Fuck. Well, are you gonna tell this story or not? This isn't possible. It is possible. This isn't happening. – This dude has a radio tower in his front yard. That's his front yard?! I fucking guess. What is that. That's a satilite. Nice. Yep. Alright, you son of a bitch. Hey! My mom's nice! Not that nice–bringing you here. How do you know that's how I got here? Exactly my point. [cocks pistol slowly.] You're dead, mouse. OH. I GET IT. kill that motherfucker. Wait. Hold up. Hold the phone! Holding. How did we get to this point? I mean– a few ways. What are you watching. SHH. Wedon'tknow. SHHH. OK! SHHHHHHH! IT' getting good. Ya. It's getting deeper. So much deeper. WAit. … Who are you? I'm a fan. No. How did you get in my house? It's my house. It's– –no. No, it's not. YEs. this is my house. No. What. GEt out. SHH. What. DUde– No. Ze show is on and it is getting one deeper. Be quiet. IT's getting two deeper. –like nine deeper. SHHH. Oh, I get it. She really wants to fuck Dillon Francis. #FuckDillonFrancis Uh, no– I already did that. Gross. Excuse me. You are excused! I mean, I beg your pardon. Please, don't beg. Er, uh– Could you repeat that last part? Woah, this gets multidimensional as fuck. I have a time machine. Are there any loopholes? There are loopholes. THere better be loopholes. Sorry, we're out. GodDAMMIT. What. I was really looking forward to those loopholes. Well, they're gone. FUCK. HEre, have some Oh-Noh's. I don't want– Just SHUT UP and EAT YOUR CEREAL. Don't worry–I'm still Team Skrillex. There are TEAMS?! Oh, yeah, bro. Oh, so–it is a love story. I don't think that's what this is. I'M GONNA MURDER YOU. Ok. WITH MY DICK. A-1. There's something I need to tell you. What. But i'm sworn to secrecy Then how am I supposed to– Just–shh– follow my lead. “The Magic Effect.” Did it work? Don't know yet. You nutted to this girl 36 times in the last 20 Calendar days. Ok… 36 Times. One Girl. 20 Days. …What's your point. This is ferocious. I have your entire internet history. All of it? Oh yes. All of it. Welp. Well. THat's it for me. I've had enough. There's no Skrillex Deepfake. Aw. that sux. Why would you look at this? …why not, though? You're a disturbed man. I'm pretty regular. REGULR TO WHO? *shrugs* Me, I guess. TURN THIS OFF. I can't take it anymore. Whatever happened to the– SHHH. Fuck. I'm so wasted. So what do you think is gonna happen? Listen. I have a lot to get through. THis is all just nonsense. I think we're avoiding some heavy subjects, here. Well, there are a lot of discrepancies. Kill yourself. I just did. Kill yourself–again. I–GodDAMMIT. Just do it. NO. Come on. Congratulations, you got the job! Yes! Thank you! …What's the job? I need you to get the fuck out of here in the next five seconds–before I blow my head off, and take you with me. Don't do that. Five… Yo, i'm serious. Four… Jesus Christ, dude. YOu don't think this hits a little close to home. Home? what is home? For the Record, Skrillex, Dillon Francis, and Deadmau5 respectively are all getting their dicks sucked on yachts right now in some foreign exotic country– You're not wrong. That is correct. Standard music business. And People are living in tents under bridges. I'm just saying. If you think this project is reckless and bizarre, check your own simulation. So. So. Where were we? Somewhere between blowing our heads off and getting our dicks sucked? I'm sure there's a striking correlation somewhere. ‘My Candle Burns At Both Ends…' Oh, More Occult Magic God Bless The Illuminati GOD I Am The Illuminati Glad that's settled. Three. Goddamit, don't do this. Two– [cocks pistol] Why just pistols. Cause shotguns are messy– –and for dramatic effect; I love that sound. [the other party quickly removes his handgun from his waistband, shooting the other man and then himself quickly; They now both lay dead.] How do I write this Just write it. I need adderall. You need Jesus. By goD, youre right. [iPhone] What are you doing? Calling on Jesus. Are you serious. He's the plug. Ugh. I need adderall. What did I do?! YOu know what you did. ∆ Well, alright then. ∆ Must be something. ∆ I got it. “The Legend of Supacree” L E G E N D S “Tales of A Superstar DJ” To do: Cut Freaky Friday 001 Cut Throwback Thursday 001 Cut SOM III Part I {God Is God] Part II [Clockwork] –Pull 212 Remix It's far beyond my control I get out of my head and into my soul In one ear, never out the other If the wind blew down your door, How would I call for you? —Through her, I suppose And the silk of her hair, Or the satin of her dress, — Oh, it's almost admissible, Surely admirable, Worth a smile or not, That all the world is words, In the end, As I tear down my worlds, and start over from One And I've already stopped enough once for today, I think Surely, what you'd like is just The time to get it all to nothing (Never had I wanted it or needed it) The phone was ringing, But I'll never be off the hook again, If you look for the proper way to move forward, You'll never find it, Especially looking behind you (Always looking behind you— Head in the past Just like you It's just like me, Too, To sit down and decide a whole song about you While taking it all down. I'm never distraught with the thoughts of a stranger, Oh, on the contrary; You should be mad about battle, But I'm all for the veterans and And never off if we were not at war with one another, but Then again, That's all we've ever done It would be Devastating To even think of Something more clever “Clever and splendiferous confectionary efforts, Just spectacular concessions my dear; I'll have another.” Hadn't I deciphered once or twice the rhyme for riddles down to dollars and cents? I did, I thought, once. I never hindered Heaven from pondering over my shoulder once or twice upon a full lit moon, which under I predicted my own fortune. Once— or twice, but— Nevermind, or nothing; Indifference, for instance, instantly inscessent ancestral insimination incriminating risidual visuals uhh— —From the festival. Right. The festival project. [—Parallels.—] GOD: So you want to be The “Glass Animals” *nods* Glass Animals. That's what I said. Glass Animals There's no “The” Context. Ok. So–”Glass Animals” *nods* Are you sure you don't want to be made of something else? *nods* *shrugs* Okayy. Glas Animals. I'm lost, But don't remind me Running out of time But time can't find me Open up my eye 10 times in 9 days I should probably fall away Back to the bay, No baby, don't cry No baby, don't cry No baby, don't cry [Midnight Request Line.] Sleek black corvette. Not a dent, not a scratch And I am feeling better, Since you asked What a warm and welcome Pleasant, wet suprise What do I owe you the—time I guess it made me smile for awhile, now I'm sad again— Wow, that was quick… Only took a second, but don't mind my arrogance ‘—I play this and it puts me in a trance.' I want to dance with you I hope someone holds my hand like that, one day Where are you taking me? “Away, my dear, away…”, he's saying… I lie awake midday and taking shallow breaths, I drift away A weapon for my empathy, [Midnight Request Line.] I have no idea what happened. ‘Ambiguous Ambitions - The Crossing ‘ A shiver up my spine I don't really mind, I'm still trying to find the word for it— But tongue in cheek it is That's—if it fits You but me once, And I liked it Come bite me twice If you buy it; Alright, Ryan—where is it? Where is what? You know what I'm talking about. I don't know anything! “Ryan Remembers Everything” Goddamn it, wake up. I need silence. GET UP, GODDAMNIT. Okay— Okay— —I just need you to tell me where it is— Where what is?! I don't think this is very funny. This got serious. Ouch. I don't want to watch TV anymore ever again. I really wish you'd tell me Oh, you wish? Watch this. I'm sorry, Ryan. Hello. I—hello. I'll have a tall order of whatever's in that box. You want what's in that box? Yessir. What is happening? I dunno. I'm afraid that's going to be a problem. *gasp* can we have ninjas? *NINJAS* NINJA FIGHT. —oh sht rly. *lmfao* Sometimes i'm set in my ways, Sometimes days go by—days, In the blink of an eye, Ever since I decided, I might have had love with you. I think we have some things to figure out, about it —it being ourselves, And washing my hands never felt so right In my life Somebody told me the stars in the sky were spirit guides, And it stuck, I'm up all night, But i'm the only star I see In New York City Don't look up to see me— Don't look up to me please, kid, really I mean, why, my baby? I mean, Hi lady— You so fly tonight, just my delight I — Like the way I look by you I— You know, If I sit in the city every night like this, And write, It just might Be the end of me Be the end of me Be the end of me You know, If I did get the limelight, Right on time to soothe and Satiate my need to be an idol LC Even this late in life, Like— —fuck ‘8I just want him to like me' I shouldn't even think about Superstardom like that, But I'll be right back, I gotta get the rabbit out the White hat, What a habit to have, huh What an idea that we might all get along Or a lot done Or be better off alone Than just to fuck off And write another song— Because the audience will like it But we're all over it; It's all done, isn't it? “The Running Game” I don't know what you want to hear from me. How about, “I'm sorry.” Ok, I'm sorry. You don't do much, do you? I guess I don't. Sabotage//Salvation Idk what this is supposed to mean. This is my demise. You're completely a ticking time bomb. You're not wrong. Salvation, from the doldrums. A sound to soothe my soul, I sink beneath you, South and under smoky water Open mouth, and barely thought of, Although often, Walk or waltz, would I To fall, my love, So becoming of a flower; forth and outward over fountains; Leaps and bounds, Of course– Well, this is dope af. What are you doing. What. What happened. THis is really good. So. So, i gotta turn this one off now– And listen to that one insead. All the time? Yeah. Oh. For, like ever..? Well, no. I gotta put it in the vault. Noooh. Yes. YEs. Yes. Forever. FOrever, no, for now– yes. That could be almost forever. Yeah. Almost. “Almost Invisible.” Take out my eyes, for now (If i could, would you want them) To beg or to barter for, I offer them up, as Ritual sacrifice (it's just a) Ritual Sacrifice. These two eyes. __ He was the boy who owned the world; Hailing from the land of a thousand suns, He said, “I'll give you a dozen roses, honey, If all you ever do is, Smile for me, So, go ahead, Smile for a dozen roses or more,” And the irony is that she did it– Not for the roses, –but for the attention. (Just for the attention.) It was she who birthed the worlds; Building the land of a thousands suns, She said I'll give you a dozen horses, “If you could just– Pick the winning one” And the irony is, that he did it– Because he loved horses, And now he had twelve of them! (--And any one could be the winning one, no matter what she does; He's got a dozen of em, Anyway.) Fuck. What. Well, that went off the deep end. Fuck. Well, this just got dark. This guy comes off your blacklist tonight. No, this person Guy. PErson. Most certainly does not. I promise if I love a=a=A=a What is this That's a making no complese sense equation. Think about it in a multidimensional– Oh, that makes total sense. Just remember, when using this– this has been around for a really long time. It's been A long time. I died in your bed, But woke up in your arms; Oh when you love, love– Love me harder, Love me harder– Oh, baby when you love, love me harder Love me harder Love//Love Me Harder Love//Love Me Harder Love//Love//Love Love Me Harder Love//Love Me Harder Love//Love//Love Love Me Harder I woke up in your bed, And then died in your arms; It was a work of art, I suppose What we were, or are (Or aspire to be.) Please. Give me your iPhone. No! No? (Takes I phone.) Is there a reason you don't want me having this? …no. No? —it's full of stuff. “Stuff.” Yes. It's— “Stuff.” Yes. — —and things. I know. Look. We had a deal. We had no “deal” We had a deal. This train just goes on forever, you know; Whether you're on, or off it— So get off, and back on at the wrong stop Once, if not just for the discovery Of another supermarket, Where you shop for strawberries and Groceries Good flex, God; I got a gang of em I'm gonna explain it as straight as it gets Sometimes, You just got to know where to go If you don't trust your gut, You'll just never get, Never get it right. Alright, alright, I started it Alright, right— I gotta get it right, I gotta get ; I'm the worst at introductions Oh and, So bad at Goodbyes Oh, why'd you have to leave me by my idol Why, Why'd you have to lead me by my eyes By my eyes God, I love the way I love the way, I love the way you Love me God, I love The way you The way you Love me You forgot about me, didn't you? You forgot all about me You forgot all about it— All about it Al about it It's not the same, anymore Since you gave it a name, is it? There's nothing I can do To help me, help you This is all I can do, To help me, love you I have to remove you; I have to remove you In a room— Full of beauty— In a world, Full of woes I lose the last dose of you, on my tongue Nobody ever wanted it, like I do— Like I do I lose the last dose of you on my tongue, And I'm all full of love again; I never saw anything like it, I was a modem, still plugged into the wall An anonymous post partum unremarkable Post-party proclamations and eternal damnation for ordering breakfast Evading transportation authorities Unworried the informant sleeping under me Oh, Now she wants to song— Oh, look— And now, she has a song to sing A point to make, A wrong to ring; The man she brings along Is bad for her Oh, she's gotta work (She loves to work, She's got to work it) What kills her makes her stronger What doesn't kill her makes her stronger All she does is Carry on And Carry on And Carry on. “Mrs Sheffield left flushing queens, for this.” Mrs Sheffield left Flushing, Queens, for this?! Mrs Sheffield left Flushing, Queens for this! Mrs, Sheffield! -1flushing queens, fah ‘dis. Very well worth it, I got all the way to brooklyn And way beyond my means for this It's well outta my means. It's out of my hands, now. That boy called you “grandpa” How is it all over? When I bet to God I was, Just in your lap at this party, And you were under me slippin on some sort of Lager or Something Weren't you? Yeah, I was just there, too I was just there, too— I was just there, too— Oh, now she has a song… All of a sudden.— But it's not all of a sudden at all It's not all of a sudden There's nothing, is there? Oh, There's something, surely I went to bed late; But I'm getting up early. I see the way he looks at me— —take it easy, baby We could have the whole room waiting Like a stoner at a stop sign My bad, My eyes lie to me All the time Driving me mad Telling me I want you inside me My bad My bad Well, I want you in my bed But I haven't had one yet I'm thinking Purple Mattress; Or is that mids, to you kids Like Timmy ho's Or my mustang civic It's a custom, yeah Nobody has it yet It's a hybrid Like I am —I am a bit off subject, now (My bad) We never had sex in my bathroom (That was your house) I took a mouse to the mountain (My bad) My writing is getting more Acid-centric, Lysergic acid diethylamide; I didn't buy any, But I haven't the need anymore, Really I just wake up like this: That is, when I wake up (I have long nights, kids) My bad I want to see you very briefly Without your briefs, You know what I mean? Me neither— Sexual delinquency in meditated frequencies Repeat this sequence I keep my deepest secrets Where I need it Right up my slime, Where my spleen is— Dreamed it, and I haven't cleaned since (Or dreamed since) In this Endless emission, Ignition sequence begins When The Lean splits Under the blood moon; An eclipse. I drift off a lot— Just thinking of your penis My daydreams are not very safe for the public I think they're X-rated or worse, Even thinking of you as a person, Or worse: As my husband once, as my lover— Lovers have all the fun, anyway Hm All the things that I'd do to you After you put me through— What are you looking for, exactly? A synchronicity. Just any synchronicity? There's no such thing as “just any” synchronicity. Does “laying low” mean nothing to you? I'm laying low! On a city tour?! It's a big city! [From Afar] IS THAT HER? Aw, fuck. Well, well, well–here we go–0 I don't have time for this. Here it is. I don't know what you're doing. We're going on an adventure! NO. I. Cant. Enjoy. Anything. WELCOME TO HOLLYWOOD. I hate this. My creativity had become merciless–inspiration pouring from the world as if all that it wanted wast o be collected and captured in any way I could see fit to create– What do you want? Out of life–or in this store? Out of life. Lets start with this store. A Living Lion; The eyes inside, I smiled, declined to act on impulse He'll admit, She's less complex, cause she's basic Everthemore complacent, blatantly lazy-- and crazy adorable. Whatmore could any man want? Whatmore could any man need? Whatmore could any man have; But the best friend who needed therapy, Several Plastic surgeries, A fading glass menagerie-- If she knew what that means. (Basically, they're both nobodies.) ‘What on God's awful green earth makes you think I would ever want anything to do with either of you two Losers? Beggars can't be choosers. His plan B was Annie; But she was never like me Enough to be Happy with Sonny; Let alone anybody. What is happening? Do you have an explanation of what's happening to me. Every realm of reality and possibility. This is infinity. What is this all supposed to mean to me? You can see everything and nothing; You can be anything. So what would that mean? What does it mean to you? That Love is Love, then. I've been half of a wide-open bleeding heart, Since the Goddamn start of it. He started it, Or someone did I didn't ever ask for it I was only ever always on the dancefloor when it mattered. I was always looking past him, but not ever looking at him. It was always just at random, but i'd never thought to ask him A question, Or to greet him-- I just. Adjust. They're watching us, from above. Adjust. They just don't trust us Adjust. Look what we've done, look what we've done to the planet that gave us all the light that we come from. Look, there. It appears to be ‘shimmering' What exactly is happening. The entirety of its surface is Auquous. Oceana. If i learn all the planets, In the everlasting galaxies-- And learn how to explore it… I just might get to Skrillex. I might fully need a Xanex bar if I ever see this kid in person. He's olden than you. By like, a minute. Still. I mean, really. I don't think this is ever going to work. It might not work, I mean-- What? If you had to actually-- Oh God, no; I'd be far too nervous. So what are you going to do when it comes time for festival season Run. Hide. Run + Hide. Fight or Flight; A Natural Response to Skrillex There is no natural response to Skrillex, because it's unnatural Be civil. I am I ‘m trying to figure out how to protect this species. Oh now, you're acting as if he's not human Of course he is. But i'm not. Of course. All it is, is science, a bit of misunderstanding. Experimental sorcery, possible exploitation. I'm not exploiting Skrillex. No, he's exploiting YOU. No. Wake the fuck up. No. (Stop repeating yourself) Wake up; you're being manipulated. By Skrillex? Cool. By whatever's manipulating Skrillex. Alright. Alright? You're part of a machine. So? “SO?” You're this comfortable having given your soul up to the devil. I haven't done that. Do you know what it takes to achieve that of which you so covet? Money. And? Power. Go on. Fame. So, calculate. It adds up the same either way. Skrillex isn't real. Maybe not, but Sonny Moore is-- Is, what-- Is “who”... “Who…” I love. What? --But that's all I know. That's it? Yes. Elaborate. Can't. What do you mean? Well, it goes like this: This is insanity. I've been through every wormhole, every parallel, every revolutionary subconscious thought, every world, every realm, every lifetime...and at the end of the day--or the beginning, depending-- it's really all the same question, and the same answer--over and over again; From the Beginning to the End. It is infinite. Everything is Everything. Quickly, tell me-- What, now? What goes on a Skrillex Pizza? Nothing, because it's not a thing! It is not. It isn't! Stop arguing at get to work. On what? On building Building What [The] Skrillex. How in the fuck am I supposed to do that? How in the fuck did you get to be a vegetarian? It just happened. So. So… Are you really a vegetarian? ___ Why did you do this? I didn't do this! You did this! I didn't do this! Why would I do this? How could you! I didn't! What the fuck is HE doing here? What the fuck. You need to stop this. I can't stop. What did you DO. Exactly what I had to. Shasta! Who the fuck is that? That's that bitch. I told you it was Shasta. Who the fuck is Shasta. What show is this? Where is Skrillex? FUCK SKR— Wait, what show is this? INT. THE VOID. DAY & NIGHT. I remember the first time I ever realized, I could love anyone in the world, if they needed me to—or, if they just gave me the chance. Or if I got the chance. Or, if there was a chance. And, if there was a chance, and it was supposed to happen, it always would—especially if I wanted it— But definitely, if I needed it. But, what is is “if”? And, what is “supposed”? What is it to “want”? And what's a “need”? Now I know— or at least pretend to. Because, the more it is I think I know, the actual less I feel that I actually do; None the wiser, I am what I always was— And God is, as I am. Sunni Blu becomes a popular androgynous rapper, as as s/he rises to fame is forced to take on a mre masculine persona to monetize thiher music. After releasing a series of Skrillex diss-tracks, and music aimed at OWSLA's top dogs, a feud between Skrillex and Sunni Blu, or rather their ‘teams' breaks out into the media. After Skrillex is hacked and left with his entire music collection missing, it is presumed the attack and disappearance of his hard drives was orchestrated by Sunni; After his unreleased music is leaked and the damage is deemed ‘irreparable' The Skrillex Project is forced to close, and the artist himself disappeared into obscurity-- after hearing one of his unreleased tracks used for one of Sunni Blu's hits, he( ‘*the fictional Skrillex*) secretly attends one of Sunni's concerts; Sunni Blu spots him in a large crowd and the two brawl; Skrillex with the upper hand after Sunni draws back from a bloody nose and retreats; It is revealed that the unreleased Skrillex track which was ‘gifted' to her came from the stolen collection, unbeknownst to Sunni Blu Although Sunni Blu's true identity has yet to be revealed to more than Dillon Francis, beside the publicity and management who have been helping to keep her secret; Dillon Francis and Sunni Blu are cornered by paparazzi, revealing to the public that she is, in fact, a female; As allegations arise that Sunni Blu is a transgender, rumors put a strain on Sunni Blu and Dillon Francis's collaborations… TBC. All of a sudden—or maybe, even, not so suddenly—I was Clark Kent—or whatever Superman's name was. I had been without contacts or glasses for quite some time, and had quite explicitly in one of my many letters to God—or really any holy power in a realm which might have received my charred requests—all the things I needed, and some of the things I very badly wanted—tightly bundled and wax-sealed with intention for nothing besides that of the greater good, or course, for myself or anyone else—set ablaze in the unforgiving streets of New York City, in secrecy at odd hours of the night; it hadn't been my actual intent to have to practice any magic at all, especially under the circumstances, it it seemed that someone nearly unmentionable at all, had hexed a nasty attack on my psyche—a satanic, demonic possession of the weak and feeble bodies around me, and unable to isolate in completion, I became vulnerable to such a wicked curse that it had altered my psychic morality—as one does not practition a counter-curse or attack , in my medicinal expertise, without first being provoked—as one military typically mustn't bomb another, or even it's own enemy without being first considerably attacked—and it was, at this point, indeed a terrible holy war. I pulled the stars into order I put the water to fountains, in mountaintops I don't know who I am either But you call me God, Agree, I'd not— But at least I love you I believe I was you once I'm awful sorry that I broke you I might have put the sun Just to far up and out of reach Believe me, see—I see you Doesn't matter what we try to do Unity is beautiful I live on the 8th floor I don't intend what I'm there for It doesn't feel bad though It doesn't feel bad though I don't know what you're after -Blū Do I scare you? Only a little. Huh. What? Nothing.. I hate you. ihateyou. Eventually, The Ascended Masters will intervene. They already have. Oh, Christ Almighty. He's not coming. [Answering Phone] Jesus Christ Almighty –WHERERU? I TOLD YOU I'D GET THERE GODDAMNIT. Fascinating. Do my eyes deceive me, Or Is there a secret between us: A secret illusion; Should I bury it, Or keep it neatly And unseen, Between my knees, And where you need me? Is there a thing that I should need, But never speak– I'll keep it in my sweet release To dream beliefs of evil Seen, aquamarine revines, And pulsing veins, –and stolen hearts, Not passing judgment, But just passing by To hide, to pass the time To find a high, Align in color Fly, Write another rhyme, Or wire fireflies a transfer of light, Like the eyes reflect to mine. WHY would you write this? WHY. I hate blue eyes. That's racist. No it isn't. Congratulations on making it into my aerospace, unscathed A coincidence, this is not. I have something for you. I don't need anything from you. That's because I gave you everything you need. Right. I have everything. RIght. So you should know whatever you need comes at a high price. What makes you think I need something. You said you have something for me? Yes I do. You don't seem the gift giving type. I'm not. So, what do you want from me? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? Oh. it' s another one. What's he need? Probably nothin, really Oh, it's something. This shouldn't be happening. I agree. why is this bothering me. Google it's self had deleted half my entry, which was admittedly sloppily thrown together, at nearly a full episode's length; probably for the best, as I was becoming more intolerant of my societal responsibility by the moment, and increasingly self destructive asa result. It was still chaotic; fame kept coming closer towards me and then leaping away, but not out of reach or out of sight, but rather than chase it, I merely calmly strode forward in a never-changing pace, not rushing and always careful to remain calm, even when filled with fury. I had become unrecognizably fit, chaste, and a remarkably healthy eater; I was all together well, besides in the areas of romance and sexuality of course. I was ready to pounce, but timing would be key, and patience the virtue; UH – “hehe” …I beg your pardon. “Hehe” Um… Fuck. Or “haha” “haha” … Just admit it. … Admit it already! –haha. Admit WHAT. This gets Levels. Nobody thought Patrice O Neal was a woman! I thought Patrice O Neal Was a Woman. Ah, fuck, I'm nobody. “Nobody” Is that Bob Saget? I swiped right on this dude, just cause he looked exactly like Bob Saget. Omg. Bob Saget! Fuck, that's right. EXT. THE W HOTEL, BEVERLY HILLS, DAY/ EXT . PODSHARE WESTWOOD ROOFTOP, DAY OH MY GOD, GUYS, LOOK: IT'S BOB SAGET. No it's not! Oh My God! Yeah IT IS! Fuck, really?! Bob Saget?! BOB SAGET! YO GUYS, IT'S BOB SAGET. It was, in fact, Bob Saget. Bob Saget's dead, right? Oh yeah, bud. That's it guys! No more dead celebrities! I'm coming with you! NO MORE GHOSTS. Look, I have something to tell you. UGH. COME ON. This is a weird superpower. EXT. GRAVEYARD, QUEENS, NY. DAY … … … Having fun yet? Alright! I have a question! What? When do I get to– Get to what? You know. V.O. Things I know about myself… I have a dominant personality, but am sexually submissive— I am monogamous. I know what I like — *Drill beat* Die in your sleep (Hope you die in your sleep) Die in your sleep (Betta die in your sleep) I look like a vacation. But k'm still on the clock (psyche) Countin my rocks And holdin my (unh) crotch You better watch your back —hold on your coughs Don't run in no crocs! (No!) I'm offset Now I'm upset l —I love you. Shut up, foo— I don't even love myself. …you told her?! I—yeah… What did she say?! She said “shut up, fool Been. Long time since I missed my exit HEY! [looks over slowly] I LIKE YOUR BALLS. [beat] [thumbs up] How do I not have “throwing elbows?!” BECAUSE YOURE NOT DOING YOUR JOB! Shut up, Jeff COME TO THE DARK SIDE WE HAVE COOKIES Half of Hollywood shows up at Joel's super nerdy Star Wars party The truth comes in glimpses; A shattered reality Scattered the ashes at malice, insanity— Actress, an actress; She laughs when she has to, l l l And last to leave, actually, After each practice Practice conspicuous, Conspiracy conspiracy Perspiration lyrics, affixed to the rhythms She sleeps at the regency, l Freedom for secrecy Believe, please believe me, my love l It was easy The truth comes in glimpses; A shattered reality Scattered the ashes at malice, insanity— Actress, an actress; She laughs when she has to, l l l And last to leave, actually, After each practice Practice conspicuous, Conspiracy conspiracy Perspiration lyrics, affixed to the rhythms She sleeps at the regency, l Freedom for secrecy Believe, please believe me, my love l It was easy Sunni BLU Tweety bird Mickey Mouse Betty boop I woke up like this But a little different I woke up a star Then became a planet I'm a hummingbird, but I don't like flying I might look alright, But I feel like dying I hate waking up at 5 am Just to be the first one at the gym I don't wanna do that shit again— Well, I might as well just stay up! I hate waking up at 5 am Just to take my goddamn medicine, but If I don't I'll feel like shit— Well, I might as well just stay up! I might as well just stay up! This is a recipe for disaster. No, this is a recipe for Skrillex. Oh. This is the recipe for disaster. Thanks, Dillon Francis. FOR WHAT? I remember the moment I became partially deaf. Or at least, in the synesthetic sense. Dillon Francis is delicious Come on let me lick it on a stick Give it to me like a big Meat popsicle Meat popsicle Meat popsicle Meat popsicle Sample: Willy winks* ITS WILLY WONKA Lol are we still doing the bit where the misspellings are like a, another entirely different dimension? Yeah. Haha. Yeah. —and the chocolate factory

SEASON 6 ACT III - Part II Oh no. I told you, this was a bad idea DONT CHECK THE— It's too late. “A Writing Assignment” Fuxk. This is bad. I'M GONNA DIE LIKE THIS. Well, it's Brooklyn—there's gonna be a fire escape and a rooftop. This is creeper level 9000 Whatever. Where'd the bass go? I've lost my sense of direction I'm mad I can't have you, It's candid I shouldn't be out here like this l I should have gone to Manhattan Are you mad, man— At the mad hatter! At the course of action in this rendition fuxk, it is Skrillex. I just went to look for Kayla Lauren. Got hit with the other one instead. “I insist, do it this way” Better get a good picture, Better get a good fix on your riches Maybe this is why my scar was lighting up all morning Maybe that's the reason I was off. Without my phone all day. Maybe that's the reason I was fasting. Good Goddamnit man, You're awful good at acting Awful good at grabbing ass, And awful good at dancing Awful good at making friends And awful good at First things first, And first things last, and after— Amsterdam I never guessed where York was at I never asked I never asked I never asked FUCK. What, man. I think Skrillex listens to my podcast. Well, that's, uh. Fuck that. Fuxk that. Fuck that. Well, that's one hell of a flex. It's a pop up. I just had a dream about surfing. Better stop, God. There might be a show for every day of the week. I'm still weak in the knees. I don't know what I need. I'm still a mothafuckin Skrillex fiend. Have a nice dream. Have some ice cream. There's the ice queen. That's been three times since my eye started bleeding. I thought I was just an MC, Or a DJ, I might take the soul train But don't have a ticket Thanks. Now whose the dick. Well , I'm just taking pictures. How's Dillon Francis. Now that's a priority. I can't ShaZam from out here, you know. I called my dad. I thought you had no family. Same thing as having no home, or, No where to go, I'm no homer, I'm sitting here, hopeless, outside or your show— Not hoping to see you, or anything I'll be you, inside my dreams, Sequels for everything Sequences, sequins and diamon rings, Sequoias and I still have feelings for I still have feelings for Feelings for everything This is the weakest I've been since I needed you 2019 was the year that the hero Was broke Well. That's it. What. That's the whole thing. Can't be the whole thing Do you want to take a half, or a whole thing Do you want to wear the pants, or the whole ring Should I take a flight to France, or to Oakland Stuck in a chokehold, God, I'm too old for this God, I just want to go home; Here's a long rope to hang your self with— Now I'm locked up in homeroom I lost it all once, got it all at the pawnshop For $96 dollars— The original price tag, of course, read $115 though. I honestly thought I never wanted to see Skrillex again, but as it turned out— as I was, of course, trying to connect with closure, snooping into Instagram just to find evidence or romance, which I did—not that I needed anything more than a glance to ensure my own insanity—and it was that, insanity. Don't do it. —but it's Valentine's Day. Don't do it. Goddamnit, I hate this. I hadn't been up this early without not having gone to bed since I arrived on the east coast; I woke up promptly around 8 with lyrics in my brain and music in my head; it had been a long and strange night, with no dreams at all—at least none that I could remember, and it had been long since I had woken up with anything in my mind besides fear and panic. I refused to turn on my phone, quickly reaching for my notebook and a pen before the song would leave my mind—I had a lot of work to do, and for whatever reason I actually felt like doing it; I at least had the train ride to Manhattan to think about what I should be thinking about, or to unravel from whatever I was wrapped up in, even if it was just myself. This is not a coincidence This is not a drill; Of course, now— I feel like the villain; To swallow Dillon like a pill But In the end, though, Nothing's real, And nothing changes, Nothing will I should be working on my will I think of jumping— What a thrill I'm busy thumping, humphing Rumbling, mumbling about something And someday never comes, But Sunday does, And Sonny shows up Monday— I feel dumb, and awkward, suddenly— I'm just an awkward cunt; That's what the prophet wrote Upon the wall In Brooklyn, Out on Broadway, Where I was, Before the fall off; I gave my dad a call, And then my son— That's all that love was I showed up with my whole heart in my pocket What a long walk; What an alter, Whatever the sun does When he doesn't watch I'm Sasquatch, But it's water, starch, And crunches ‘This is not a coincidence.' I had spent the day before, valentines day, combing through my belongings meticulously—I was due to check out the following morning, and without much thought I had thought of another extension, which would of course diminish the last of my money, but at least warrant another couple nights safe and warm. I hadn't made any sense to look for a normal job-not only would the process or getting hired take up all the rest of my time, but it would be two to three weeks before I would receive any kind of paycheck at all—and with such little time left living indoors, It didn't make sense to try. I had been stranded in New York since a arrived on the 4th, and though it had nearly been two weeks, I hadn't any luck in landing any gigs or performances. Jetro of course was still waiting with Blame Society records in Rome for my arrival, I hadn't even thought to notify him of the lack of such, as I partially blamed even alerting him that I was on my way via instragrwm for the flight delay that had caused me to miss my train, which of course caused me to miss my plane, landing me stuck in a hostile, cruel, and homeless USA. I carry, or Hold no stones for you; Haven't I a heart left It's the darkest of all the hours, And here you are, again— Not near, or far, But a bet is a bet, An eye for an eye And a head for a head And you're so far ahead, I've yet to catch up yet I have a gift for your daughter, Often, I've thought of her Lost in New York, No glass houses, It's just brick and mortar She calls me retarded, my mother So I haven't called her I just keep running north I just keep running my mouth on this podcast I just keep thinking that someone's my long lost love, at last You dirty bastard I'm an asshole: Handsome, Hanzel is In case it mattered Everyone's a fucking actor Look at that girl And look at that And look at that And look at that girl And look at that And look at that You took my whole world Turned it upside down And bottled up my love l You never told me where the bottle was But showed me what a model was And after that I fell in love with Something about doing drugs and Coming up with love to give to others Turning pigeons into doves And wishing I could just be nothin' —cause my life was fuckin loveless —and I thought you were my husband (Fuck Kayla Lauren; But I guess I gotta love her, Cause she's human) I took my time getting ready, no time, actually, in comparison to how slowly I had been moving throughout the week, and although I had been to the gym daily, I was worn, and tired—and coming up empty on all fronts. It was 10:14 or so by the time I finally made my way to the subway, ‘I'm still off', I thought— but not only couldn't I depressively sulk and lay in bed the way I thought I would or even maybe wanted to, I had been lifted out of my sleep and on my way to Equinox with a startling force—though I shouldn't have at all been suprised; this, whether consciously or not, I realized, had always happened when it came to the matter of the mysterious Sonny Moore. ‘Fuck' It was late evening Monday before the anxiety started to set in, and for some reason had been the reason I had decided to turn on my phone, to extend my reservation another couple days, buying time in comfort and warmth, on the freedom of privacy, which I had done nothing with but rest and try to be whole again, whatever that was—and whatever it meant. I had been cooking for the first time in months, stretching, and meditating the ways that only seemed to come natural when having my own time and space —and though it wasn't wholly my own, it was clean, peaceful, and quiet—included it's very own space heater, and was decorated in my favorite color blue. My host was an actual working professional who had succeeded in the entertainment industry—which of course made me jealous, but I at the very least had done my best to network and perhaps nitpick an easygoing cash job out of it “I have some connections”, she had piped—and so, with that in mind, I had sent her my links; and of course, with my extension being the reason for even having turned on my phone, was quick to check my text messages to see if there had been any movement with the booking agent she had supposedly sent my information to. “I gave him your Instagram, and so he'll probably reach out to you through there if he's interested.” I hated Instagram and it seemed to hate me, even before the devastating discovery of what a Kayla Lauren was, it had always seemingly been algorithmically programmed to make me hate myself, always spamming my feed with skinny white girls with blue eyes, which I only hated, admittedly out of bitter loneliness—the guys I seemed to like and fall for had always seemed to go for that type—white, skinny, blue eyes or some variation of the “ideal” standard of beauty, especially by Californian standards—and so I had always taken long breaks from it, shielding myself from self hatred: my absolute theory becoming that Instagram was an algorithm built for population control, preying on the weak and insecure, and probably attributing to more suicides than anyone had noticed or cared for. Lil biiiiiitz You know what else is weird about New York. People eat on the subway. They eat in the train station. They just— It's kind of gross; at least to me. Of course, the trains in New York are a lot cleaner. Sometimes the station even smells like bleach. That's so cool. Still don't want to eat in there. That's weird. INT. CHAUNCEY STREET. SUNDOWN | VALENTINES DAY BLŪ waits patiently for Instagram to download, sighing heavily as she waits; As it has finished, she rolls her eyes and opens the app, squinting and pursing her lips as she quickly checks for messages: only adds, nothing important. BLŪ Of course, no messages. Psh. She exits the app, thinking for a moment before re-opening it. Don't do it. SEARCH: Sk— INSTAGRAM skrillex You never learn. BLŪ watches the story, for the most part, unenthused—until TONIGHT: BROOKLYN NEW YORK. BLŪ AGH! The phone flies from her hand and onto the bed as she seizes, flying back and hitting the wall with a thud—then dramatically backing up into the closet, closing both doors and exclaiming in the darkness BLŪ (CONT'D) I'm gonna die like this. OH NO. HE'S IN BROOKLYN?! RIGHT NOW?! SKRILLEX I'M IN BROOKLYN. RIGHT NOW. WHY WOULD HE BE IN BROOKLYN. I'M IN BROOKLYN. (heavy New York accent) I'M IN BROOKLYN. (even heavier New York accent) I'M IN BROOKLYN. (*hawks loogie, spits*) [very ugly cry] I was expecting to see some cheesy picture like I had just a couple years before—or however long it had been. So much time had passed and I had no doubt there was still more and that I wouldn't be seeing Sonny tonight, or even anytime soon—still, I was headed towards the rooftop to collect my stones, and though the tickets were sold out and there were said to be none at the door, I was headed for the train before I even knew why, or what was happening. Well, he's out of the basement. BITCH GET OUT THE ATTICK I'm in the closet now, I had a heart attack, I'm in a panic You need a manual? This is a stick shift This is some sick shit Click click, bitch I got witches in automatic Automatic It was 11:11 AM; I had never been to Manhattan so early before, at least not from Brooklyn; I knew my way to Equinox Sports club easily by now, without getting lost, or much hassle; it was an easy one hour train ride—and this morning, even easier; the writing came automatically, rather than forced, as it had been, and the ride went by almost too quickly, despite a full train and a flurry of emotions I worked heartfully to keep in check. ‘This changes nothing.' , I thought, more awestruck than anything and trying to convince myself nothing had changed, though something certainly had. Manhattan looked even better in the daylight—clear and sunny, and even a bit warm; babies in strollers and dogs on leashes and for a moment or two, I might have even forgotten I was homeless, dropping 2.5 Jimmy Fallons on a piping hot coffee at the shop I had always passed, but was never open. I would be at Sports Club until close, as I had planned to be all week but had always fallen short of, struck with jet lag and crippling depression at the same time—but today, and even if it was for the best that I couldn't seem to get exactly what I wanted, If even just out of sheer disbelief, I had at least been shaken out of my tomb, if only for a moment, and into work mode, still grieving the self I had lost in the collision of stardust and superstardom, fame, and misfortune—tears still on the brink of rolling down my cheek, and the cost of sicccess a grueling question burning somewhere between my still bleeding heart, and somewhere in the back of my mind. ‘Its like a fucked up cheaper by the dozen' And I still haven't frgotten about Dillon Francis, But Sonny seems to fuck me up a bit, —and then some It's just an addendum: I flipped the script and went dumb Here's my number, Christopher Columbus; And a bumper sticker Still a nigger Still a nothing trying to make it bigger Still a little off my rocker, Like I bought, at Cracker Barrel I'm still scared of marriage, Mind my manners, like Harriet Tubman Somebody's up to somethin' Better suck it up and get some crunches in Before I go to lunch And jump from too high up Or hang off of some bridge Just to get to the dimension Where it's Skrillex in the picture With Dillon standing next to him, And I'm just in the middle, Front and center With an Emmy Win An Oscar nomination, And a Tony, where my Grammy is: A curio cabinet I had custom fashioned for my bathroom; Next to the magazine rack, actually— Where I'm on every cover wearing fabrics I myself imagined, shining like a dragon eating laffy taffy; Fuck, I Suck at mathematics, —But I finally got my masters degree. Nice. Jeez, It would be tragic to have it all go up in ashes Lighting matches just to get the smell of gas to shatter— Or to dissipate, I estimate I'm 40 minutes late, But if I make it, I'll get naked on the plane, For heaven's sake. What the fuck is this. Some Sunnï Blū shit, I guess. “I guess.” I'm still mad at the world, I'm still mad at your girl, for being better than me So mad I could hurl, But I'm still fasting, actually; It's intermittent, In a minute, I might turn to Skrillex, Talk to Fred Again Then take some medicine And finally finish, like- “I did it” Oh look, it's Fred. Yep. Oh. Hi. It's Fred Again. That's me. Oh. Hey there. It's Fred..Again. Fucking a. JIMMY THE MOBSTER Alright, Jimmy—you sick sonofabitch. JIMMY FALLON —just kill me already. JIMMY THE MOBSTER WHERE IS IT. JIMMY FALLON Where is what. JIMMY THE MOBSTER YOU KNOW WHAT. JIMMY FALLON I don't know what. JIMMY THE MOBSTER —my medallion. JIMMY FALLON You were wearing a medallion? JIMMY THE MOBSTER I'M ALWAYS WEARING MY MEDALLION JIMMY FALLON How am I supposed to know that JIMMY THE MOBSTER there's only me and you here— JIMMY FALLON you know what they say—threes a crowd— JIMMY THE MOBSTER Listen, Jimmy Fallon, you illiterate motherfucker! JIMMY FALON I'm not illiterate; I'm very well read. JIMMY THE MOBSTER oh yeah! What was the last book you read? JIMMY FALLON … JIMMY THE MOBSTER …that's what I thought. [beat] JIMMY THE MOBSTER grabs JIMMY FALLON by the shoulders abrasively JIMMY THE MOBSTER (CONT'D) WHERE'S MY MEDALLION, JIMMY!?! JIMMY FALLON I DON'T—KNOW! JIMMY THE MOBSTER YOU DO KNOW! JIMMY FALLON NO, I DONT—you blindfolded and kidnapped me! JIMMY THE MOBSTER I kidnapped you?! C'mon' you're like 50- JIMMY FALLON I'm 42. JIMMY THE MOBSTER —I snatched you. “Snached” hm. I like that. MEANWHILE, in HOLLYWOOD This is a serious job… It's a job. A serious job. I'll take it. Wtf is this dude into. Whippets and women— Like every-other Hollywood nigga Stop using the n'word. It makes white people uncomfortable. Imagine what it's like being called the n word like it's your name. FLASHBACK BEVERLY HILLS, CALIFORNIA PRODUCER YOURE JUST A NIGGER SLAVE. (That actually happened.) Anyway. As you can see, or might have guessed, I'm desperate for attention, Sonny followed me to Brooklyn, But never even mentioned it: I should have figured he was listening, When I heard Renaissance, And lost the mixtape that I did That Skrillex took it off of Glad It didn't win the Grammy I'd be mad if it had. Cause I was on it! Not Exactly. Swear to God, I might have lost it, Heard applause and started walking Nodded off, And woke up in a coffin Coughs, What a photographer. DILLON FRANCIS has been buried alive, inside of a coffin. I love this scene. He really is a good actor. (In my mind.) Dude, you are creep level 1 Billion. Whatever, he followed me to Brooklyn. I am you. You know what, That is something I would do if I was stupid rich and… And what. I had fallen in love with Sonny Moore, not at first sight—but at first glance; it seemed he had been quite literally tossed into my broken and shattered world, and— What, I'm an animal! Did you fuck? Should I have? I would have. I know you would have. I'm not Annie; She is pretty, and fun; An addict, an alcoholic And formerly, my other half When I was one, But now I'm half of half of half And then some; I've been numb, I've never felt like this, Since I've been struck. I guess if I drink, I'll be a big drunk; And If I die before I ever wake I'll be in big luck Honestly, After Kayla Lauren, I didn't give a fuck Been thinking of jumping, Then something hit me like a big truck I love eating. There was some sort of event on the basketball court at Sports Club; I had been there already two entire hours, and spent most of it in the sauna, still followed by coughing people, I knew I still wasn't out or the heap of madness or broken from any spell or curse it might have been — and it wasn't fair, I wasn't fair skinned, and it didn't make a difference at all what had happened; I still wanted to end it. I'm losing my mind again Losing a light again Losing my light, But if I run to find it I just might I just might —I'll fly like a kite. He's trying to kill me. He's not doing a bad job. Don't know what i'm working towards; Don't know what i'm running for— Don't know about Sonny Moore (He's not for me;) Or so I thought before, therefore— I take metformin I'm still homeless, Searching for a metaphor, An aquafir, And somewhere to plug my phone in (Better than being ignored and drinking tap water, On the fourth floor) Housing is a human right I hate this place It's just not right I'm sick of fighting I'm not racist; Just not fucking white enough To run for red and right; I guess I'm blū then. I could be crying in the sauna. But I guess I'm writing you a message It's just a bullet in my head It's just another lesson It's just another test, at best It's just an algorithm; Go back to my nest And rest for just a minute This is season 6 of Legends, Now I'm turning to a villain I keep coming up with Skrillex, But I gave my heart to Dillon Here's a tiny violin; It's getting violent since intermission Ultraviolet light, And impolite fixations, Revelations, Realizations, Revolutions, Reservations Let's set a date then— Is it fucking coughs, Or is it Satan? I hate this. You would want to jump in front of a train, too If for years. No matter what you did or where you went People came around you and just started coughing That's such an evil fucking thing to experience For someone who never wanted anything But to be loved But was always too fat Too black And just altogether too anything to ever experience love, joy, and happiness the way other people do And so, it must be hell Cause all I do is love, and love, and love And just get shit on And coughed at And called retarded And falling short of success I'm not heartless I just carry rocks around And get followed by coughing bodies My life fuckin sucks, man I just want to turn the simulation off, And on again I just want to take a long nap, And wake up in the arms of a man I just want a booking manager, And an orgasm. And a ham sandwhich, And my land back, And to be happy Or maybe like half a xanex Wanna throw myself down on the train tracks I want a can of spam and pancakes Like breakfast made by my dad I want to hold hands, And a whole home, with a landing pad Or maybe just an address, and a gas lamp Or a campfire Timestamp that. This is the third and final act. I can't fall for this again— Another rich and handsome man— A dream he wants to be my friend A dream he wants to hold my hand Oh look, Another dance for anthem Look, I'm just another fan No, I can't fall for this again —but they would go against the plan A simple programming error, Lips the color of a pomagranite Circle on the palm, And then , of course, We press the center And look, here we are again Another life, Another love A new wife— Another husband Honest? I'm just good with fucking —aha I just want to fuck you I got love, but what it good for Look at me, or look at nothing! Look, I'm just good with fucking Check the news for new engagements Fucking sick and fucking tragic Nothing more than actors, DJs, drinks and addicts Look, I'm just a happy accident— I still hate Dillon Francis And I never wanted Skrillex: That shit never even happened! Have you had enough yet?! Carrot cake does sound good Ten karat long engagement ring— Is that a lot? I'm just a homeless Look, I'm just another DJ Some fake model stole it Some would call it occult Magic —honest? I just want some dick, man Fuck it —aha I just want to fuck you I got love, but what it good for Look at me, or look at nothing! Look, I'm just good with fucking You know why you like me?! Yes, I know why I like you— Cause I'm rich! —no, actually—it's because you're smart. Where in the fuck are you going? I don't know yet. Well, know faster—we have company. Fuck. Destroy every bit of evidence. Ok. —and make sure nobody sees you. Yeah, right! YO. Why the fuck are you here, Timmy? I told you, I'm not Timmy. I don't give a fuck who you are—where's my money? It's— it's on the way, I promise. I'm don't take well tk promises, Timmy. What do you take well to? Money. FUCK. What! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! What?! We're too late, she's gone! Goddammit. —She was already here! FUCK. FUCK. FUCK! >>> FUCK! How do you know? —there's glitter, everywhere. Is it gone? It's gone? ALL OF IT. TIMMY TRUMPET plays a SKRILLEX. Etto, Timmy?! Oh shit, another Timmy. That's weird. I was just thinking he about Skrillex. Why. Timmy, put a shirt on. That's it. What. You can't be hot and play the trumpet. Why. One thing's gotta go. THE DEVIL takes away Timmy Trumpet's ability to play the trumpet. WHAT. Can't have both. Well, I don't really need both now, do I? When I'm in a tough spot I have to listen to deadmau5 —something about the precision and frequencies out my brain somewhere between auropilot and dead space. I don't know. I've done just about everything you can think of listening to deadmau5. Almost. But, I noticed— Working out to deadmau5 is strange. It puts me in some kind of vibration where people notice me— Not just notice me. People are suddenly “impressed” with whatever it is I'm doing. And it's usually something regular as fuck— I'm just doing it to deadmau5. And for some reason, people are like “Wooooow!!” Okay, whatever. I used to work out to Skrillex. Actually. I used to work out to only Skrillex. I don't know if its just because I was fat, or cause I liked Skrillex. Now its like running a serrated knife up my spine. I started to figure out I was kind of famou— Kind of— When I showed up at the gym and Skrillex songs kept coming on I'm like “This is what I get for doing nothing but free trials” But hey, You try finding a gym in the shitty areas of New York worth paying for. It's very hard. The crazy thing about this story is— There's a lot of crazy things about this story, actually. EXT. BASKETBALL COURT. DAY. Alright— shirts and skins —Shirt—Skin Shirt,Skin— Uhh! Nah. I wanna be “shirts” Why dude?! Your girl's mad hot! So?! So I know you got it goin on! Look at you! I'm mad rich! Yeah—but girls always cheat on flabby rich dudes! With hotter dudes. My girlfriend might be cheating on me! Yeah—She's not, though. How do you know? Cause I tried! Yeah. Take your shirt off. No—uh! How do you know she's just not into you! Because! He tried— HE tried! You sell out. And Andre tried— [ANDRE is tall (about 6'9 dark, and handsome] —you too, bro? [ANDRE shrugs nonchalantly] That's an NBA player— What the FUCK, YO. —and she said NO. ANDRE Yup. Shot me down. Oh really—from all the way up there?! Face it, man! You're fuckin hot! I don't like the way that sounds coming from you— Take your shirt off! Were you this aggressive with my girl?! Don't be like that… Nah— fuck you! Yo! C'mon, man— And you three! You're holding up the game getting mad over nothing. It's Hollywood! It's Beverly Hills! —Exactly my point! You're new here—you'll catch on. You know what! I'm shirts—you're skins—Game on. [SUNNI BLU goes beast mode and plays the dirtiest, most whoopass game in history—out of spite and anger of the toxic masculinity; this of course earns SUNNI BLU even more respect as a “man's man”] Later: as the owner of the clippers, sunni BLU trades “Andre” to the worst basketball team in history. For, As soon as the moon is full, She also begins to wane— And as sure as we are to shine, We also fade away I had one slice of red velvet cake, one slice of cheesecake—which of course only reminded me of Sonny Moore—the decadent, delicious red velvet—and Dillon Francis—the spiced and ecclectic trademark carrot cake—if only not to sooty the pain of joe much I wanted both of them, but probably didn't need them—how I craved them so, but they probably weren't good for me, nor would they last— —but they would both be delicious, anyhow. The seagull said. “To the sea, we go!” Overhead, he flies As the day goes by me Idly, I wait— I could take a ride, But i'd rather be By myself, By my… INT. EMPIRE ENPANADAS. NIGHT You gonna order? What you got? Empanadas. Just empanadas? —Yeah. Okay, that's weird. Lol the only thing funny about this scene is that their New York accents are so atrociously heavy. Right. —weird. INT. SUBWAY STATION. DAY. Sunni BLU is passed out in the subway station. Ew… Yeah, my god. Wait—is that— —sunni?! SUNNI drunkenly groans. Sunni! Get up! Ughhhh. What are you doing?! I'm drunk. I know that. You're always drunk. Yeah. What are you doing here. What. In the subway. I do this sometimes. What. For what?! You never know who you're gonna meet. In the subway On the floor?! YeH! I met R- Kelly down here! What! When was this Not at this station, though, but yeah. To think, It was all just an awful game, to make you write more songs— And in the end, if you don't make the cut They just make you kill yourself, anyway. Love isn't real, but money is; And all men want is money, So they can buy the love— And all women want is love— But it has to come with money Or it all just falls apart It all just falls apart It all just falls apart “Illuminatus”, Open, close Illuminaudio, for starters Cross a crucifix for sons, and wanted daughters What's a brother to a sister— Or a mother to a father? What's a stop sign to a car, If no one's driving? In the end, they kill you off In the end, they kill you off With every cough, they kill you off— But there's always another Who wants to be a star— Or just The mother of his child, Maybe both Genetic lotto luck —the cut off. Agatha… A far cry, out into the distance–a wind, almost a whisper; A lover, long gone and almost since forgotten, unseen since the very dawn of time and first ever glimpse of light– …We Meet Again. FUCK. WHAT IS THIS. I know, man. FUCK. Fuck. Well, are you gonna tell this story or not? This isn't possible. It is possible. This isn't happening. – This dude has a radio tower in his front yard. That's his front yard?! I fucking guess. What is that. That's a satilite. Nice. Yep. Alright, you son of a bitch. Hey! My mom's nice! Not that nice–bringing you here. How do you know that's how I got here? Exactly my point. [cocks pistol slowly.] You're dead, mouse. OH. I GET IT. kill that motherfucker. Wait. Hold up. Hold the phone! Holding. How did we get to this point? I mean– a few ways. What are you watching. SHH. Wedon'tknow. SHHH. OK! SHHHHHHH! IT' getting good. Ya. It's getting deeper. So much deeper. WAit. … Who are you? I'm a fan. No. How did you get in my house? It's my house. It's– –no. No, it's not. YEs. this is my house. No. What. GEt out. SHH. What. DUde– No. Ze show is on and it is getting one deeper. Be quiet. IT's getting two deeper. –like nine deeper. SHHH. Oh, I get it. She really wants to fuck Dillon Francis. #FuckDillonFrancis Uh, no– I already did that. Gross. Excuse me. You are excused! I mean, I beg your pardon. Please, don't beg. Er, uh– Could you repeat that last part? Woah, this gets multidimensional as fuck. I have a time machine. Are there any loopholes? There are loopholes. THere better be loopholes. Sorry, we're out. GodDAMMIT. What. I was really looking forward to those loopholes. Well, they're gone. FUCK. HEre, have some Oh-Noh's. I don't want– Just SHUT UP and EAT YOUR CEREAL. Don't worry–I'm still Team Skrillex. There are TEAMS?! Oh, yeah, bro. Oh, so–it is a love story. I don't think that's what this is. I'M GONNA MURDER YOU. Ok. WITH MY DICK. A-1. There's something I need to tell you. What. But i'm sworn to secrecy Then how am I supposed to– Just–shh– follow my lead. “The Magic Effect.” Did it work? Don't know yet. You nutted to this girl 36 times in the last 20 Calendar days. Ok… 36 Times. One Girl. 20 Days. …What's your point. This is ferocious. I have your entire internet history. All of it? Oh yes. All of it. Welp. Well. THat's it for me. I've had enough. There's no Skrillex Deepfake. Aw. that sux. Why would you look at this? …why not, though? You're a disturbed man. I'm pretty regular. REGULR TO WHO? *shrugs* Me, I guess. TURN THIS OFF. I can't take it anymore. Whatever happened to the– SHHH. Fuck. I'm so wasted. So what do you think is gonna happen? Listen. I have a lot to get through. THis is all just nonsense. I think we're avoiding some heavy subjects, here. Well, there are a lot of discrepancies. Kill yourself. I just did. Kill yourself–again. I–GodDAMMIT. Just do it. NO. Come on. Congratulations, you got the job! Yes! Thank you! …What's the job? I need you to get the fuck out of here in the next five seconds–before I blow my head off, and take you with me. Don't do that. Five… Yo, i'm serious. Four… Jesus Christ, dude. YOu don't think this hits a little close to home. Home? what is home? For the Record, Skrillex, Dillon Francis, and Deadmau5 respectively are all getting their dicks sucked on yachts right now in some foreign exotic country– You're not wrong. That is correct. Standard music business. And People are living in tents under bridges. I'm just saying. If you think this project is reckless and bizarre, check your own simulation. So. So. Where were we? Somewhere between blowing our heads off and getting our dicks sucked? I'm sure there's a striking correlation somewhere. ‘My Candle Burns At Both Ends…' Oh, More Occult Magic God Bless The Illuminati GOD I Am The Illuminati Glad that's settled. Three. Goddamit, don't do this. Two– [cocks pistol] Why just pistols. Cause shotguns are messy– –and for dramatic effect; I love that sound. [the other party quickly removes his handgun from his waistband, shooting the other man and then himself quickly; They now both lay dead.] How do I write this Just write it. I need adderall. You need Jesus. By goD, youre right. [iPhone] What are you doing? Calling on Jesus. Are you serious. He's the plug. Ugh. I need adderall. What did I do?! YOu know what you did. ∆ Well, alright then. ∆ Must be something. ∆ I got it. “The Legend of Supacree” L E G E N D S “Tales of A Superstar DJ” To do: Cut Freaky Friday 001 Cut Throwback Thursday 001 Cut SOM III Part I {God Is God] Part II [Clockwork] –Pull 212 Remix It's far beyond my control I get out of my head and into my soul In one ear, never out the other If the wind blew down your door, How would I call for you? —Through her, I suppose And the silk of her hair, Or the satin of her dress, — Oh, it's almost admissible, Surely admirable, Worth a smile or not, That all the world is words, In the end, As I tear down my worlds, and start over from One And I've already stopped enough once for today, I think Surely, what you'd like is just The time to get it all to nothing (Never had I wanted it or needed it) The phone was ringing, But I'll never be off the hook again, If you look for the proper way to move forward, You'll never find it, Especially looking behind you (Always looking behind you— Head in the past Just like you It's just like me, Too, To sit down and decide a whole song about you While taking it all down. I'm never distraught with the thoughts of a stranger, Oh, on the contrary; You should be mad about battle, But I'm all for the veterans and And never off if we were not at war with one another, but Then again, That's all we've ever done It would be Devastating To even think of Something more clever “Clever and splendiferous confectionary efforts, Just spectacular concessions my dear; I'll have another.” Hadn't I deciphered once or twice the rhyme for riddles down to dollars and cents? I did, I thought, once. I never hindered Heaven from pondering over my shoulder once or twice upon a full lit moon, which under I predicted my own fortune. Once— or twice, but— Nevermind, or nothing; Indifference, for instance, instantly inscessent ancestral insimination incriminating risidual visuals uhh— —From the festival. Right. The festival project. [—Parallels.—] GOD: So you want to be The “Glass Animals” *nods* Glass Animals. That's what I said. Glass Animals There's no “The” Context. Ok. So–”Glass Animals” *nods* Are you sure you don't want to be made of something else? *nods* *shrugs* Okayy. Glas Animals. I'm lost, But don't remind me Running out of time But time can't find me Open up my eye 10 times in 9 days I should probably fall away Back to the bay, No baby, don't cry No baby, don't cry No baby, don't cry [Midnight Request Line.] Sleek black corvette. Not a dent, not a scratch And I am feeling better, Since you asked What a warm and welcome Pleasant, wet suprise What do I owe you the—time I guess it made me smile for awhile, now I'm sad again— Wow, that was quick… Only took a second, but don't mind my arrogance ‘—I play this and it puts me in a trance.' I want to dance with you I hope someone holds my hand like that, one day Where are you taking me? “Away, my dear, away…”, he's saying… I lie awake midday and taking shallow breaths, I drift away A weapon for my empathy, [Midnight Request Line.] I have no idea what happened. ‘Ambiguous Ambitions - The Crossing ‘ A shiver up my spine I don't really mind, I'm still trying to find the word for it— But tongue in cheek it is That's—if it fits You but me once, And I liked it Come bite me twice If you buy it; Alright, Ryan—where is it? Where is what? You know what I'm talking about. I don't know anything! “Ryan Remembers Everything” Goddamn it, wake up. I need silence. GET UP, GODDAMNIT. Okay— Okay— —I just need you to tell me where it is— Where what is?! I don't think this is very funny. This got serious. Ouch. I don't want to watch TV anymore ever again. I really wish you'd tell me Oh, you wish? Watch this. I'm sorry, Ryan. Hello. I—hello. I'll have a tall order of whatever's in that box. You want what's in that box? Yessir. What is happening? I dunno. I'm afraid that's going to be a problem. *gasp* can we have ninjas? *NINJAS* NINJA FIGHT. —oh sht rly. *lmfao* Sometimes i'm set in my ways, Sometimes days go by—days, In the blink of an eye, Ever since I decided, I might have had love with you. I think we have some things to figure out, about it —it being ourselves, And washing my hands never felt so right In my life Somebody told me the stars in the sky were spirit guides, And it stuck, I'm up all night, But i'm the only star I see In New York City Don't look up to see me— Don't look up to me please, kid, really I mean, why, my baby? I mean, Hi lady— You so fly tonight, just my delight I — Like the way I look by you I— You know, If I sit in the city every night like this, And write, It just might Be the end of me Be the end of me Be the end of me You know, If I did get the limelight, Right on time to soothe and Satiate my need to be an idol LC Even this late in life, Like— —fuck ‘8I just want him to like me' I shouldn't even think about Superstardom like that, But I'll be right back, I gotta get the rabbit out the White hat, What a habit to have, huh What an idea that we might all get along Or a lot done Or be better off alone Than just to fuck off And write another song— Because the audience will like it But we're all over it; It's all done, isn't it? “The Running Game” I don't know what you want to hear from me. How about, “I'm sorry.” Ok, I'm sorry. You don't do much, do you? I guess I don't. Sabotage//Salvation Idk what this is supposed to mean. This is my demise. You're completely a ticking time bomb. You're not wrong. Salvation, from the doldrums. A sound to soothe my soul, I sink beneath you, South and under smoky water Open mouth, and barely thought of, Although often, Walk or waltz, would I To fall, my love, So becoming of a flower; forth and outward over fountains; Leaps and bounds, Of course– Well, this is dope af. What are you doing. What. What happened. THis is really good. So. So, i gotta turn this one off now– And listen to that one insead. All the time? Yeah. Oh. For, like ever..? Well, no. I gotta put it in the vault. Noooh. Yes. YEs. Yes. Forever. FOrever, no, for now– yes. That could be almost forever. Yeah. Almost. “Almost Invisible.” Take out my eyes, for now (If i could, would you want them) To beg or to barter for, I offer them up, as Ritual sacrifice (it's just a) Ritual Sacrifice. These two eyes. __ He was the boy who owned the world; Hailing from the land of a thousand suns, He said, “I'll give you a dozen roses, honey, If all you ever do is, Smile for me, So, go ahead, Smile for a dozen roses or more,” And the irony is that she did it– Not for the roses, –but for the attention. (Just for the attention.) It was she who birthed the worlds; Building the land of a thousands suns, She said I'll give you a dozen horses, “If you could just– Pick the winning one” And the irony is, that he did it– Because he loved horses, And now he had twelve of them! (--And any one could be the winning one, no matter what she does; He's got a dozen of em, Anyway.) Fuck. What. Well, that went off the deep end. Fuck. Well, this just got dark. This guy comes off your blacklist tonight. No, this person Guy. PErson. Most certainly does not. I promise if I love a=a=A=a What is this That's a making no complese sense equation. Think about it in a multidimensional– Oh, that makes total sense. Just remember, when using this– this has been around for a really long time. It's been A long time. I died in your bed, But woke up in your arms; Oh when you love, love– Love me harder, Love me harder– Oh, baby when you love, love me harder Love me harder Love//Love Me Harder Love//Love Me Harder Love//Love//Love Love Me Harder Love//Love Me Harder Love//Love//Love Love Me Harder I woke up in your bed, And then died in your arms; It was a work of art, I suppose What we were, or are (Or aspire to be.) Please. Give me your iPhone. No! No? (Takes I phone.) Is there a reason you don't want me having this? …no. No? —it's full of stuff. “Stuff.” Yes. It's— “Stuff.” Yes. — —and things. I know. Look. We had a deal. We had no “deal” We had a deal. This train just goes on forever, you know; Whether you're on, or off it— So get off, and back on at the wrong stop Once, if not just for the discovery Of another supermarket, Where you shop for strawberries and Groceries Good flex, God; I got a gang of em I'm gonna explain it as straight as it gets Sometimes, You just got to know where to go If you don't trust your gut, You'll just never get, Never get it right. Alright, alright, I started it Alright, right— I gotta get it right, I gotta get ; I'm the worst at introductions Oh and, So bad at Goodbyes Oh, why'd you have to leave me by my idol Why, Why'd you have to lead me by my eyes By my eyes God, I love the way I love the way, I love the way you Love me God, I love The way you The way you Love me You forgot about me, didn't you? You forgot all about me You forgot all about it— All about it Al about it It's not the same, anymore Since you gave it a name, is it? There's nothing I can do To help me, help you This is all I can do, To help me, love you I have to remove you; I have to remove you In a room— Full of beauty— In a world, Full of woes I lose the last dose of you, on my tongue Nobody ever wanted it, like I do— Like I do I lose the last dose of you on my tongue, And I'm all full of love again; I never saw anything like it, I was a modem, still plugged into the wall An anonymous post partum unremarkable Post-party proclamations and eternal damnation for ordering breakfast Evading transportation authorities Unworried the informant sleeping under me Oh, Now she wants to song— Oh, look— And now, she has a song to sing A point to make, A wrong to ring; The man she brings along Is bad for her Oh, she's gotta work (She loves to work, She's got to work it) What kills her makes her stronger What doesn't kill her makes her stronger All she does is Carry on And Carry on And Carry on. “Mrs Sheffield left flushing queens, for this.” Mrs Sheffield left Flushing, Queens, for this?! Mrs Sheffield left Flushing, Queens for this! Mrs, Sheffield! -1flushing queens, fah ‘dis. Very well worth it, I got all the way to brooklyn And way beyond my means for this It's well outta my means. It's out of my hands, now. That boy called you “grandpa” How is it all over? When I bet to God I was, Just in your lap at this party, And you were under me slippin on some sort of Lager or Something Weren't you? Yeah, I was just there, too I was just there, too— I was just there, too— Oh, now she has a song… All of a sudden.— But it's not all of a sudden at all It's not all of a sudden There's nothing, is there? Oh, There's something, surely I went to bed late; But I'm getting up early. I see the way he looks at me— —take it easy, baby We could have the whole room waiting Like a stoner at a stop sign My bad, My eyes lie to me All the time Driving me mad Telling me I want you inside me My bad My bad Well, I want you in my bed But I haven't had one yet I'm thinking Purple Mattress; Or is that mids, to you kids Like Timmy ho's Or my mustang civic It's a custom, yeah Nobody has it yet It's a hybrid Like I am —I am a bit off subject, now (My bad) We never had sex in my bathroom (That was your house) I took a mouse to the mountain (My bad) My writing is getting more Acid-centric, Lysergic acid diethylamide; I didn't buy any, But I haven't the need anymore, Really I just wake up like this: That is, when I wake up (I have long nights, kids) My bad I want to see you very briefly Without your briefs, You know what I mean? Me neither— Sexual delinquency in meditated frequencies Repeat this sequence I keep my deepest secrets Where I need it Right up my slime, Where my spleen is— Dreamed it, and I haven't cleaned since (Or dreamed since) In this Endless emission, Ignition sequence begins When The Lean splits Under the blood moon; An eclipse. I drift off a lot— Just thinking of your penis My daydreams are not very safe for the public I think they're X-rated or worse, Even thinking of you as a person, Or worse: As my husband once, as my lover— Lovers have all the fun, anyway Hm All the things that I'd do to you After you put me through— What are you looking for, exactly? A synchronicity. Just any synchronicity? There's no such thing as “just any” synchronicity. Does “laying low” mean nothing to you? I'm laying low! On a city tour?! It's a big city! [From Afar] IS THAT HER? Aw, fuck. Well, well, well–here we go–0 I don't have time for this. Here it is. I don't know what you're doing. We're going on an adventure! NO. I. Cant. Enjoy. Anything. WELCOME TO HOLLYWOOD. I hate this. My creativity had become merciless–inspiration pouring from the world as if all that it wanted wast o be collected and captured in any way I could see fit to create– What do you want? Out of life–or in this store? Out of life. Lets start with this store. A Living Lion; The eyes inside, I smiled, declined to act on impulse He'll admit, She's less complex, cause she's basic Everthemore complacent, blatantly lazy-- and crazy adorable. Whatmore could any man want? Whatmore could any man need? Whatmore could any man have; But the best friend who needed therapy, Several Plastic surgeries, A fading glass menagerie-- If she knew what that means. (Basically, they're both nobodies.) ‘What on God's awful green earth makes you think I would ever want anything to do with either of you two Losers? Beggars can't be choosers. His plan B was Annie; But she was never like me Enough to be Happy with Sonny; Let alone anybody. What is happening? Do you have an explanation of what's happening to me. Every realm of reality and possibility. This is infinity. What is this all supposed to mean to me? You can see everything and nothing; You can be anything. So what would that mean? What does it mean to you? That Love is Love, then. I've been half of a wide-open bleeding heart, Since the Goddamn start of it. He started it, Or someone did I didn't ever ask for it I was only ever always on the dancefloor when it mattered. I was always looking past him, but not ever looking at him. It was always just at random, but i'd never thought to ask him A question, Or to greet him-- I just. Adjust. They're watching us, from above. Adjust. They just don't trust us Adjust. Look what we've done, look what we've done to the planet that gave us all the light that we come from. Look, there. It appears to be ‘shimmering' What exactly is happening. The entirety of its surface is Auquous. Oceana. If i learn all the planets, In the everlasting galaxies-- And learn how to explore it… I just might get to Skrillex. I might fully need a Xanex bar if I ever see this kid in person. He's olden than you. By like, a minute. Still. I mean, really. I don't think this is ever going to work. It might not work, I mean-- What? If you had to actually-- Oh God, no; I'd be far too nervous. So what are you going to do when it comes time for festival season Run. Hide. Run + Hide. Fight or Flight; A Natural Response to Skrillex There is no natural response to Skrillex, because it's unnatural Be civil. I am I ‘m trying to figure out how to protect this species. Oh now, you're acting as if he's not human Of course he is. But i'm not. Of course. All it is, is science, a bit of misunderstanding. Experimental sorcery, possible exploitation. I'm not exploiting Skrillex. No, he's exploiting YOU. No. Wake the fuck up. No. (Stop repeating yourself) Wake up; you're being manipulated. By Skrillex? Cool. By whatever's manipulating Skrillex. Alright. Alright? You're part of a machine. So? “SO?” You're this comfortable having given your soul up to the devil. I haven't done that. Do you know what it takes to achieve that of which you so covet? Money. And? Power. Go on. Fame. So, calculate. It adds up the same either way. Skrillex isn't real. Maybe not, but Sonny Moore is-- Is, what-- Is “who”... “Who…” I love. What? --But that's all I know. That's it? Yes. Elaborate. Can't. What do you mean? Well, it goes like this: This is insanity. I've been through every wormhole, every parallel, every revolutionary subconscious thought, every world, every realm, every lifetime...and at the end of the day--or the beginning, depending-- it's really all the same question, and the same answer--over and over again; From the Beginning to the End. It is infinite. Everything is Everything. Quickly, tell me-- What, now? What goes on a Skrillex Pizza? Nothing, because it's not a thing! It is not. It isn't! Stop arguing at get to work. On what? On building Building What [The] Skrillex. How in the fuck am I supposed to do that? How in the fuck did you get to be a vegetarian? It just happened. So. So… Are you really a vegetarian? ___ Why did you do this? I didn't do this! You did this! I didn't do this! Why would I do this? How could you! I didn't! What the fuck is HE doing here? What the fuck. You need to stop this. I can't stop. What did you DO. Exactly what I had to. Shasta! Who the fuck is that? That's that bitch. I told you it was Shasta. Who the fuck is Shasta. What show is this? Where is Skrillex? FUCK SKR— Wait, what show is this? INT. THE VOID. DAY & NIGHT. I remember the first time I ever realized, I could love anyone in the world, if they needed me to—or, if they just gave me the chance. Or if I got the chance. Or, if there was a chance. And, if there was a chance, and it was supposed to happen, it always would—especially if I wanted it— But definitely, if I needed it. But, what is is “if”? And, what is “supposed”? What is it to “want”? And what's a “need”? Now I know— or at least pretend to. Because, the more it is I think I know, the actual less I feel that I actually do; None the wiser, I am what I always was— And God is, as I am. Sunni Blu becomes a popular androgynous rapper, as as s/he rises to fame is forced to take on a mre masculine persona to monetize thiher music. After releasing a series of Skrillex diss-tracks, and music aimed at OWSLA's top dogs, a feud between Skrillex and Sunni Blu, or rather their ‘teams' breaks out into the media. After Skrillex is hacked and left with his entire music collection missing, it is presumed the attack and disappearance of his hard drives was orchestrated by Sunni; After his unreleased music is leaked and the damage is deemed ‘irreparable' The Skrillex Project is forced to close, and the artist himself disappeared into obscurity-- after hearing one of his unreleased tracks used for one of Sunni Blu's hits, he( ‘*the fictional Skrillex*) secretly attends one of Sunni's concerts; Sunni Blu spots him in a large crowd and the two brawl; Skrillex with the upper hand after Sunni draws back from a bloody nose and retreats; It is revealed that the unreleased Skrillex track which was ‘gifted' to her came from the stolen collection, unbeknownst to Sunni Blu Although Sunni Blu's true identity has yet to be revealed to more than Dillon Francis, beside the publicity and management who have been helping to keep her secret; Dillon Francis and Sunni Blu are cornered by paparazzi, revealing to the public that she is, in fact, a female; As allegations arise that Sunni Blu is a transgender, rumors put a strain on Sunni Blu and Dillon Francis's collaborations… TBC. All of a sudden—or maybe, even, not so suddenly—I was Clark Kent—or whatever Superman's name was. I had been without contacts or glasses for quite some time, and had quite explicitly in one of my many letters to God—or really any holy power in a realm which might have received my charred requests—all the things I needed, and some of the things I very badly wanted—tightly bundled and wax-sealed with intention for nothing besides that of the greater good, or course, for myself or anyone else—set ablaze in the unforgiving streets of New York City, in secrecy at odd hours of the night; it hadn't been my actual intent to have to practice any magic at all, especially under the circumstances, it it seemed that someone nearly unmentionable at all, had hexed a nasty attack on my psyche—a satanic, demonic possession of the weak and feeble bodies around me, and unable to isolate in completion, I became vulnerable to such a wicked curse that it had altered my psychic morality—as one does not practition a counter-curse or attack , in my medicinal expertise, without first being provoked—as one military typically mustn't bomb another, or even it's own enemy without being first considerably attacked—and it was, at this point, indeed a terrible holy war. I pulled the stars into order I put the water to fountains, in mountaintops I don't know who I am either But you call me God, Agree, I'd not— But at least I love you I believe I was you once I'm awful sorry that I broke you I might have put the sun Just to far up and out of reach Believe me, see—I see you Doesn't matter what we try to do Unity is beautiful I live on the 8th floor I don't intend what I'm there for It doesn't feel bad though It doesn't feel bad though I don't know what you're after -Blū Do I scare you? Only a little. Huh. What? Nothing.. I hate you. ihateyou. Eventually, The Ascended Masters will intervene. They already have. Oh, Christ Almighty. He's not coming. [Answering Phone] Jesus Christ Almighty –WHERERU? I TOLD YOU I'D GET THERE GODDAMNIT. Fascinating. Do my eyes deceive me, Or Is there a secret between us: A secret illusion; Should I bury it, Or keep it neatly And unseen, Between my knees, And where you need me? Is there a thing that I should need, But never speak– I'll keep it in my sweet release To dream beliefs of evil Seen, aquamarine revines, And pulsing veins, –and stolen hearts, Not passing judgment, But just passing by To hide, to pass the time To find a high, Align in color Fly, Write another rhyme, Or wire fireflies a transfer of light, Like the eyes reflect to mine. WHY would you write this? WHY. I hate blue eyes. That's racist. No it isn't. Congratulations on making it into my aerospace, unscathed A coincidence, this is not. I have something for you. I don't need anything from you. That's because I gave you everything you need. Right. I have everything. RIght. So you should know whatever you need comes at a high price. What makes you think I need something. You said you have something for me? Yes I do. You don't seem the gift giving type. I'm not. So, what do you want from me? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? Oh. it' s another one. What's he need? Probably nothin, really Oh, it's something. This shouldn't be happening. I agree. why is this bothering me. Google it's self had deleted half my entry, which was admittedly sloppily thrown together, at nearly a full episode's length; probably for the best, as I was becoming more intolerant of my societal responsibility by the moment, and increasingly self destructive asa result. It was still chaotic; fame kept coming closer towards me and then leaping away, but not out of reach or out of sight, but rather than chase it, I merely calmly strode forward in a never-changing pace, not rushing and always careful to remain calm, even when filled with fury. I had become unrecognizably fit, chaste, and a remarkably healthy eater; I was all together well, besides in the areas of romance and sexuality of course. I was ready to pounce, but timing would be key, and patience the virtue; UH – “hehe” …I beg your pardon. “Hehe” Um… Fuck. Or “haha” “haha” … Just admit it. … Admit it already! –haha. Admit WHAT. This gets Levels. Nobody thought Patrice O Neal was a woman! I thought Patrice O Neal Was a Woman. Ah, fuck, I'm nobody. “Nobody” Is that Bob Saget? I swiped right on this dude, just cause he looked exactly like Bob Saget. Omg. Bob Saget! Fuck, that's right. EXT. THE W HOTEL, BEVERLY HILLS, DAY/ EXT . PODSHARE WESTWOOD ROOFTOP, DAY OH MY GOD, GUYS, LOOK: IT'S BOB SAGET. No it's not! Oh My God! Yeah IT IS! Fuck, really?! Bob Saget?! BOB SAGET! YO GUYS, IT'S BOB SAGET. It was, in fact, Bob Saget. Bob Saget's dead, right? Oh yeah, bud. That's it guys! No more dead celebrities! I'm coming with you! NO MORE GHOSTS. Look, I have something to tell you. UGH. COME ON. This is a weird superpower. EXT. GRAVEYARD, QUEENS, NY. DAY … … … Having fun yet? Alright! I have a question! What? When do I get to– Get to what? You know. V.O. Things I know about myself… I have a dominant personality, but am sexually submissive— I am monogamous. I know what I like — *Drill beat* Die in your sleep (Hope you die in your sleep) Die in your sleep (Betta die in your sleep) I look like a vacation. But k'm still on the clock (psyche) Countin my rocks And holdin my (unh) crotch You better watch your back —hold on your coughs Don't run in no crocs! (No!) I'm offset Now I'm upset l —I love you. Shut up, foo— I don't even love myself. …you told her?! I—yeah… What did she say?! She said “shut up, fool Been. Long time since I missed my exit HEY! [looks over slowly] I LIKE YOUR BALLS. [beat] [thumbs up] How do I not have “throwing elbows?!” BECAUSE YOURE NOT DOING YOUR JOB! Shut up, Jeff COME TO THE DARK SIDE WE HAVE COOKIES Half of Hollywood shows up at Joel's super nerdy Star Wars party The truth comes in glimpses; A shattered reality Scattered the ashes at malice, insanity— Actress, an actress; She laughs when she has to, l l l And last to leave, actually, After each practice Practice conspicuous, Conspiracy conspiracy Perspiration lyrics, affixed to the rhythms She sleeps at the regency, l Freedom for secrecy Believe, please believe me, my love l It was easy The truth comes in glimpses; A shattered reality Scattered the ashes at malice, insanity— Actress, an actress; She laughs when she has to, l l l And last to leave, actually, After each practice Practice conspicuous, Conspiracy conspiracy Perspiration lyrics, affixed to the rhythms She sleeps at the regency, l Freedom for secrecy Believe, please believe me, my love l It was easy Sunni BLU Tweety bird Mickey Mouse Betty boop I woke up like this But a little different I woke up a star Then became a planet I'm a hummingbird, but I don't like flying I might look alright, But I feel like dying I hate waking up at 5 am Just to be the first one at the gym I don't wanna do that shit again— Well, I might as well just stay up! I hate waking up at 5 am Just to take my goddamn medicine, but If I don't I'll feel like shit— Well, I might as well just stay up! I might as well just stay up! This is a recipe for disaster. No, this is a recipe for Skrillex. Oh. This is the recipe for disaster. Thanks, Dillon Francis. FOR WHAT? I remember the moment I became partially deaf. Or at least, in the synesthetic sense. Dillon Francis is delicious Come on let me lick it on a stick Give it to me like a big Meat popsicle Meat popsicle Meat popsicle Meat popsicle Sample: Willy winks* ITS WILLY WONKA Lol are we still doing the bit where the misspellings are like a, another entirely different dimension? Yeah. Haha. Yeah. —and the chocolate factory

How do you honor your idols without being derivative?  How do you start over in a new (york) city?  This week on Music Therapy I sit down with Dan Rico, a Chicago DIY scene fixture who moved to New York City right before the pandemic hit.   We get into creativity, live band recordings vs virtual instruments, SXSW takeaways, quitting drinking, finding a new music community in NYC, impostor syndrome, and lots more. We also listen to a couple of new fantastic tracks from Dan: "Conceited" and " Hit and Run" plus a special bonus track "Better Company" that Dan and I collaborated on.  ***************** Dan Rico is a songwriter, guitar player, and multi-instrumentalist from Chicago, IL living In Brooklyn, NY. Rico is a writes music and performs in the Surf rock group High Waisted and plays guitar in the grunge band Dropper, who just got back from South by South West. Rico also releases music under his own name, collating inspirations as disparate as Prince, T Rex, Os Mutantes, and Taylor Swift. ************** Visit musictherapypodcast.com for session notes, past episodes, and upcoming events! Music Therapy Podcast Credits:  Music Therapy is hosted by Jessica Risker, produced by Sullivan Davis of Local Universe, and engineered by Joshua Wentz in Chicago.  Opening and closing music composed by Joshua Wentz. Taped April 2023 Ep 116 ************************ Join us on the Music Therapy Discord! or Facebook Group!

SEASON 6 ACT III - Part II Oh no. I told you, this was a bad idea DONT CHECK THE— It's too late. “A Writing Assignment” Fuxk. This is bad. I'M GONNA DIE LIKE THIS. Well, it's Brooklyn—there's gonna be a fire escape and a rooftop. This is creeper level 9000 Whatever. Where'd the bass go? I've lost my sense of direction I'm mad I can't have you, It's candid I shouldn't be out here like this l I should have gone to Manhattan Are you mad, man— At the mad hatter! At the course of action in this rendition fuxk, it is Skrillex. I just went to look for Kayla Lauren. Got hit with the other one instead. “I insist, do it this way” Better get a good picture, Better get a good fix on your riches Maybe this is why my scar was lighting up all morning Maybe that's the reason I was off. Without my phone all day. Maybe that's the reason I was fasting. Good Goddamnit man, You're awful good at acting Awful good at grabbing ass, And awful good at dancing Awful good at making friends And awful good at First things first, And first things last, and after— Amsterdam I never guessed where York was at I never asked I never asked I never asked FUCK. What, man. I think Skrillex listens to my podcast. Well, that's, uh. Fuck that. Fuxk that. Fuck that. Well, that's one hell of a flex. It's a pop up. I just had a dream about surfing. Better stop, God. There might be a show for every day of the week. I'm still weak in the knees. I don't know what I need. I'm still a mothafuckin Skrillex fiend. Have a nice dream. Have some ice cream. There's the ice queen. That's been three times since my eye started bleeding. I thought I was just an MC, Or a DJ, I might take the soul train But don't have a ticket Thanks. Now whose the dick. Well , I'm just taking pictures. How's Dillon Francis. Now that's a priority. I can't ShaZam from out here, you know. I called my dad. I thought you had no family. Same thing as having no home, or, No where to go, I'm no homer, I'm sitting here, hopeless, outside or your show— Not hoping to see you, or anything I'll be you, inside my dreams, Sequels for everything Sequences, sequins and diamon rings, Sequoias and I still have feelings for I still have feelings for Feelings for everything This is the weakest I've been since I needed you 2019 was the year that the hero Was broke Well. That's it. What. That's the whole thing. Can't be the whole thing Do you want to take a half, or a whole thing Do you want to wear the pants, or the whole ring Should I take a flight to France, or to Oakland Stuck in a chokehold, God, I'm too old for this God, I just want to go home; Here's a long rope to hang your self with— Now I'm locked up in homeroom I lost it all once, got it all at the pawnshop For $96 dollars— The original price tag, of course, read $115 though. I honestly thought I never wanted to see Skrillex again, but as it turned out— as I was, of course, trying to connect with closure, snooping into Instagram just to find evidence or romance, which I did—not that I needed anything more than a glance to ensure my own insanity—and it was that, insanity. Don't do it. —but it's Valentine's Day. Don't do it. Goddamnit, I hate this. I hadn't been up this early without not having gone to bed since I arrived on the east coast; I woke up promptly around 8 with lyrics in my brain and music in my head; it had been a long and strange night, with no dreams at all—at least none that I could remember, and it had been long since I had woken up with anything in my mind besides fear and panic. I refused to turn on my phone, quickly reaching for my notebook and a pen before the song would leave my mind—I had a lot of work to do, and for whatever reason I actually felt like doing it; I at least had the train ride to Manhattan to think about what I should be thinking about, or to unravel from whatever I was wrapped up in, even if it was just myself. This is not a coincidence This is not a drill; Of course, now— I feel like the villain; To swallow Dillon like a pill But In the end, though, Nothing's real, And nothing changes, Nothing will I should be working on my will I think of jumping— What a thrill I'm busy thumping, humphing Rumbling, mumbling about something And someday never comes, But Sunday does, And Sonny shows up Monday— I feel dumb, and awkward, suddenly— I'm just an awkward cunt; That's what the prophet wrote Upon the wall In Brooklyn, Out on Broadway, Where I was, Before the fall off; I gave my dad a call, And then my son— That's all that love was I showed up with my whole heart in my pocket What a long walk; What an alter, Whatever the sun does When he doesn't watch I'm Sasquatch, But it's water, starch, And crunches ‘This is not a coincidence.' I had spend the day before, valentines say, combing through my belongings meticulously—I was due to check out the following morning, and without much thiugh I had thought of another extension, which would l of course diminish the last of my money, but at least warrant another couple nights safe and warm. I hadn't made any sense to look for a normal job-not only would the process or getting hired take up all the rest of mh time, but it would be if. Purse two to theee weeks before I would receive any kind of paycheck at all—and with such little time left living indoors, It didn't make sense to try. I had been stranded in New York since addict f on the 4th, and though it had nearly been two weeks, I hadn't any luck in landing any gigs or performances. Jetro of course was still waiting with Blame Society records in Rome for my arrival, I hadn't even thought to notify him of the lack of such, as I partially blamed even alerting him that I was on my way via instragrwm for the flight delay that had caused me to miss my train, which of course caused me to miss my plane, landing me stuck in a hostile, cruel, and homeless USA. I carry, or Hold no stones for you; Haven't I a heart left It's the darkest of all the hours, And here you are, again— Not near, or far, But a bet is a bet, An eye for an eye And a head for a head And you're so far ahead, I've yet to catch up yet I have a gift for your daughter, Often, I've thought of her Lost in New York, No glass houses, It's just brick and mortar She calls me retarded, my mother So I haven't called her I just keep running north I just keep running my mouth on this podcast I just keep thinking that someone's my long lost love, at last You dirty bastard I'm an asshole: Handsome, Hanzel is In case it mattered Everyone's a fucking actor Look at that girl And look at that And look at that And look at that girl And look at that And look at that You took my whole world Turned it upside down And bottled up my love l You never told me where the bottle was But showed me what a model was And after that I fell in love with Something about doing drugs and Coming up with love to give to others Turning pigeons into doves And wishing I could just be nothin' —cause my life was fuckin loveless —and I thought you were my husband (Fuck Kayla Lauren; But I guess I gotta love her, Cause she's human) I took my time getting ready, no time, actually, in comparison to how slowly I had been moving throughout the week, and although I had been to the gym daily, I was worn, and tired—and coming up empty on all fronts. It was 10:14 or so by the time I finally made my way to the subway, ‘I'm still off', I thought— but not only couldn't I depressively sulk and lay in bed the way I thought I would or even maybe wanted to, I had been lifted out of my sleep and on my way to Equinox with a startling force—though I shouldn't have at all been suprised; this, whether consciously or not, I realized, had always happened when it came to the matter of the mysterious Sonny Moore. ‘Fuck' It was late evening Monday before the anxiety started to set in, and for some reason had been the reason I had decided to turn on my phone, to extend my reservation another couple days, buying time in comfort and warmth, on the freedom of privacy, which I had done nothing with but rest and try to be whole again, whatever that was—and whatever it meant. I had been cooking for the first time in months, stretching, and meditating the ways that only seemed to come natural when having my own time and space —and though it wasn't wholly my own, it was clean, peaceful, and quiet—included it's very own space heater, and was decorated in my favorite color blue. My host was an actual working professional who had succeeded in the entertainment industry—which of course made me jealous, but I at the very least had done my best to network and perhaps nitpick an easygoing cash job out of it “I have some connections”, she had piped—and so, with that in mind, I had sent her my links; and of course, with my extension being the reason for even having turned on my phone, was quick to check my text messages to see if there had been any movement with the booking agent she had supposedly sent my information to. “I gave him your Instagram, and so he'll probably reach out to you through there it he's interested.” I hated Instagram and it seemed to hate me, even before the devastating discovery of what a Kayla Lauren was, it had always seemingly been algorithmicallu programmed to make me hate myself, always spamming my feed with skinny white girls with blue eyes, which I only hated Seinfeld, admittedly out of bitter loneliness—the guys I seemed to like and fall for had always seemed to go for that type—white, skinny, blue eyes or some variation of the “ideal” standard of beauty, especially by Californian standards—and so I had always taken long breaks from it, shielding myself from self hatred: my absolute theory becoming that Instagram was an algorithm built for population control, preying on the weak and insecure, and probably attributing to more suicides than anyone had noticed or cared for. Lil biiiiiitz You know what else is weird about New York. People eat on the subway. They eat in the train station. They just— It's kind of gross; at least to me. Of course, the trains in New York are a lot cleaner. Sometimes the station even smells like bleach. That's so cool. Still don't want to eat in there. That's weird. INT. CHAUNCEY STREET. SUNDOWN | VALENTINES DAY BLŪ waits patiently for Instagram to download, sighing heavily as she waits; As it has finished, she rolls her eyes and opens the app, squinting and pursing her lips as she quickly checks for messages: only adds, nothing important. BLŪ Of course, no messages. Psh. She exits the app, thinking for a moment before re-opening it. Don't do it. SEARCH: Sk— INSTAGRAM skrillex You never learn. BLŪ watches the story, for the most part, unenthused—until TONIGHT: BROOKLYN NEW YORK. BLŪ AGH! The phone flies from her hand and onto the bed as she seizes, flying back and hitting the wall with a thud—then dramatically backing up into the closet, closing both doors and exclaiming in the darkness BLŪ (CONT'D) I'm gonna die like this. OH NO. HE'S IN BROOKLYN?! RIGHT NOW?! SKRILLEX I'M IN BROOKLYN. RIGHT NOW. WHY WOULD HE BE IN BROOKLYN. I'M IN BROOKLYN. (heavy New York accent) I'M IN BROOKLYN. (even heavier New York accent) I'M IN BROOKLYN. (*hawks loogie, spits*) [very ugly cry] I was expecting to see some cheesy picture like I had just a couple years before—or however long it had been. So much time had passed and I had no doubt there was still more and that I wouldn't be seeing Sonny tonight, or even anytime soon—still, I was headed towards the rooftop to collect my stones, and though the tickets were sold out and there were said to be none at the door, I was headed for the train before I even knew why, or what was happening. Well, he's out of the basement. BITCH GET OUT THE ATTICK I'm in the closet now, I had a heart attack, I'm in a panic You need a manual? This is a stick shift This is some sick shit Click click, bitch I got witches in automatic Automatic It was 11:11 AM; I had never been to Manhattan to early before, at least not from Brooklyn; I knew my way to Equinox Sports club easily by now, without getting lost, or much hassle; it was an easy one hour train ride—and this morning, even easier; the writing came automatically, rather than forced, as it had been, and the ride went by almost too quickly, despite a full train and a flurry of emotions I worked heartfly to keep in check. ‘This changes nothing.' , I thought, more awestruck than anything and trying to convince myself nothing had changed, though something certainly had. Manhattan looked even better in the daylight—clear and sunny, and even a bit warm; babies in strollers and dogs on leashes and for a moment or two, I might have even forgotten I was homeless, dropping 2.5 Jimmy Fallons on a piping hot coffee at the shop I had always passed, but was never open. I would be at Sports Club until close, as I had planned to be all week but had always fallen short of, struck with jet lag and crippling depression at the same time—but today, and even if it was for the best that I couldn't seem to get exactly what I wanted, If even just out of sheer disbelief, I had at least been shaken out of my tomb, if only for a moment, and into work mode, still grieving the self I had lost in the collision of stardust and superstardom, fame, and misfortune—tears still on the brink of rolling down my cheek, and the cost of sicccess a grueling question burning somewhere between my still bleeding heart, and somewhere in the back of my mind. ‘Its like a fucked up cheaper by the dozen' And I still haven't frgotten about Dillon Francis, But Sonny seems to fuck me up a bit, —and then some It's just an addendum: I flipped the script and went dumb Here's my number, Christopher Columbus; And a bumper sticker Still a nigger Still a nothing trying to make it bigger Still a little off my rocker, Like I bought, at Cracker Barrel I'm still scared of marriage, Mind my manners, like Harriet Tubman Somebody's up to somethin' Better suck it up and get some crunches in Before I go to lunch And jump from too high up Or hang off of some bridge Just to get to the dimension Where it's Skrillex in the picture With Dillon standing next to him, And I'm just in the middle, Front and center With an Emmy Win An Oscar nomination, And a Tony, where my Grammy is: A curio cabinet I had custom fashioned for my bathroom; Next to the magazine rack, actually— Where I'm on every cover wearing fabrics I myself imagined, shining like a dragon eating laffy taffy; Fuck, I Suck at mathematics, —But I finally got my masters degree. Nice. Jeez, It would be tragic to have it all go up in ashes Lighting matches just to get the smell of gas to shatter— Or to dissipate, I estimate I'm 40 minutes late, But if I make it, I'll get naked on the plane, For heaven's sake. What the fuck is this. Some Sunnï Blū shit, I guess. “I guess.” I'm still mad at the world, I'm still mad at your girl, for being better than me So mad I could hurl, But I'm still fasting, actually; It's intermittent, In a minute, I might turn to Skrillex, Talk to Fred Again Then take some medicine And finally finish, like- “I did it” Oh look, it's Fred. Yep. Oh. Hi. It's Fred Again. That's me. Oh. Hey there. It's Fred..Again. Fucking a. JIMMY THE MOBSTER Alright, Jimmy—you sick sonofabitch. JIMMY FALLON —just kill me already. JIMMY THE MOBSTER WHERE IS IT. JIMMY FALLON Where is what. JIMMY THE MOBSTER YOU KNOW WHAT. JIMMY FALLON I don't know what. JIMMY THE MOBSTER —my medallion. JIMMY FALLON You were wearing a medallion? JIMMY THE MOBSTER I'M ALWAYS WEARING MY MEDALLION JIMMY FALLON How am I supposed to know that JIMMY THE MOBSTER there's only me and you here— JIMMY FALLON you know what they say—there's a crowd— JIMMY THE MOBSTER Listen, Jimmy Fallon, you illiterate motherfucker! JIMMY FALON I'm not illiterate; I'm very well read. JIMMY THE MOBSTER oh yeah! What was the last book you read? JIMMY FALLON … JIMMY THE MOBSTER …that's what I thought. [beat] JIMMY THE MOBSTER grabs JIMMY FALLON by the shoulders abrasively JIMMY THE MOBSTER (CONT'D) WHERE'S MY MEDALLION, JIMMY!?! JIMMY FALLON I DON'T—KNOW! JIMMY THE MOBSTER YOU DO KNOW! JIMMY FALLON NO, I DONT—you blindfolded and kidnapped me! JIMMY THE MOBSTER I kidnapped you?! C'mon' you're like 50- JIMMY FALLON I'm 42. JIMMY THE MOBSTER —I snatched you. “Snached” hm. I like that. MEANWHILE, in HOLLYWOOD This is a serious job… It's a job. A serious job. I'll take it. Wtf is this dude into. Whippets and women— Like every-other Hollywood nigga Stop using the n'word. It makes while people uncomfortable. Imagine what it's like being called the n word like it's your name. FLASHBACK BEVERLY HILLS, CALIFORNIA PRODUCER YOURE JUST A NIGGER SLAVE. (That actually happened.) Anyway. As you can see, or might have guessed, I'm desperate for attention, Sonny followed me to Brooklyn, But never even mentioned it: I should have figured he was listening, When I heard Renaissance, And lost the mixtape that I did That Skrillex took it off of Glad It didn't win the Grammy I'd be mad if it had. Cause I was on it! Not Exactly. Swear to God, I might have lost it, Heard applause and started walking Nodded off, And woke up in a coffin Coughs, What a photographer. DILLON FRANCIS has been buried alive, inside or a coffin. I love this scene. He really is a good actor. (In my mind.) Dude, you are creep level 1 Billion. Whatever, he followed me to Brooklyn. I am you. You know what, That is something I would do if I was stupid rich and… And what. I had fallen in love with Sonny Moore, not at first sight—but at first glance; it seemed he had been quite literally tossed into my broken and shattered world, and— What, I'm an animal! Did you fuck? Should I have? I would have. I know you would have. I'm not Annie; She is pretty, and fun; An addict, an alcoholic And formerly, my other half When I was one, But now I'm half of half of half And then some; I've been numb, I've never felt like this, Since I've been struck. I guess if I drink, I'll be a big drunk; And If I die before I ever wake I'll be in big luck Honestly, After Kayla Lauren, I didn't give a fuck Been thinking of jumping, Then something hit me like a big truck I love eating. There was some sort of event on the basketball court at Sports Club; I had been there already two entire hours, and spent most of it in the sauna, still followed by coughing people, I knew I still wasn't out or the heap of madness or broken from any spell or curse it might have been — and it wasn't fair, I wasn't fair skinned, and it didn't make a difference at all what had happened; I still wanted to end it. I'm losing my mind again Losing a light again Losing my light, But if I run to find it I just might I just might —I'll fly like a kite. He's trying to kill me. He's not doing a bad job. Don't know what i'm working towards; Don't know what i'm running for— Don't know about Sonny Moore (He's not for me;) Or so I thought before, therefore— I take metrormin I'm still homeless, Searching for a metaphor, An aquafir, And somewhere to plug my phone in (Better than being ignored and drinking tap water, On the fourth floor) Housing is a human right I hate this place It's just not right I'm sick of fighting I'm not racist; Just not fucking white enough To run for red and right; I guess I'm blū then. I could be crying in the sauna. But I guess I'm writing you a message It's just a bullet in my head It's just another lesson It's just another test, at best It's just an algorithm; Go back to my nest And rest for just a minute This is season 6 of a Legends, Now I'm turning to a villain I keep coming up with Skrillex, But I have my heart to Dillon Here's a tiny violin; It's getting violent since intermission Ultraviolet light, And impolite fixations, Revelations, Realizations, Revolutions, Reservations Let's set a date then— Is it fucking coughs, Or is it Satan? I hate this. You would want to jump in front of a train, too If for years. No matter what you did or where you went People came around you and just started coughing That's such an evil fucking thing to experience For someone who never wanted anything But to be loved But was always too fat Too black And just altogether too anything to ever experience love, joy, and happiness the wayoh other people do And so, it must be hell Cause all I do is love, and love, and love And just get shit on And coughed at And called retarded And falling short of success I'm not heartless I just carry rocks around And get followed by coughing bodies My life fuckin sucks, man I just want to turn the simulation off, And on again I just want to take a long nap, And wake up in the arms of a man I just want a booking manager, And an orgasm. And a ham sandwhich, And my land back, And to be happy Or maybe like half a xanex Wanna throw myself down on the train tracks I want a can of spam and pancakes Like breakfast made by my dad I want to hold hands, And a whole home, with a landing pad Or maybe just an address, and a gas lamp Or a campfire Timestamp that. This is the third and final act. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

SEASON 6 ACT III - Part II Oh no. I told you, this was a bad idea DONT CHECK THE— It's too late. “A Writing Assignment” Fuxk. This is bad. I'M GONNA DIE LIKE THIS. Well, it's Brooklyn—there's gonna be a fire escape and a rooftop. This is creeper level 9000 Whatever. Where'd the bass go? I've lost my sense of direction I'm mad I can't have you, It's candid I shouldn't be out here like this l I should have gone to Manhattan Are you mad, man— At the mad hatter! At the course of action in this rendition fuxk, it is Skrillex. I just went to look for Kayla Lauren. Got hit with the other one instead. “I insist, do it this way” Better get a good picture, Better get a good fix on your riches Maybe this is why my scar was lighting up all morning Maybe that's the reason I was off. Without my phone all day. Maybe that's the reason I was fasting. Good Goddamnit man, You're awful good at acting Awful good at grabbing ass, And awful good at dancing Awful good at making friends And awful good at First things first, And first things last, and after— Amsterdam I never guessed where York was at I never asked I never asked I never asked FUCK. What, man. I think Skrillex listens to my podcast. Well, that's, uh. Fuck that. Fuxk that. Fuck that. Well, that's one hell of a flex. It's a pop up. I just had a dream about surfing. Better stop, God. There might be a show for every day of the week. I'm still weak in the knees. I don't know what I need. I'm still a mothafuckin Skrillex fiend. Have a nice dream. Have some ice cream. There's the ice queen. That's been three times since my eye started bleeding. I thought I was just an MC, Or a DJ, I might take the soul train But don't have a ticket Thanks. Now whose the dick. Well , I'm just taking pictures. How's Dillon Francis. Now that's a priority. I can't ShaZam from out here, you know. I called my dad. I thought you had no family. Same thing as having no home, or, No where to go, I'm no homer, I'm sitting here, hopeless, outside or your show— Not hoping to see you, or anything I'll be you, inside my dreams, Sequels for everything Sequences, sequins and diamon rings, Sequoias and I still have feelings for I still have feelings for Feelings for everything This is the weakest I've been since I needed you 2019 was the year that the hero Was broke Well. That's it. What. That's the whole thing. Can't be the whole thing Do you want to take a half, or a whole thing Do you want to wear the pants, or the whole ring Should I take a flight to France, or to Oakland Stuck in a chokehold, God, I'm too old for this God, I just want to go home; Here's a long rope to hang your self with— Now I'm locked up in homeroom I lost it all once, got it all at the pawnshop For $96 dollars— The original price tag, of course, read $115 though. I honestly thought I never wanted to see Skrillex again, but as it turned out— as I was, of course, trying to connect with closure, snooping into Instagram just to find evidence or romance, which I did—not that I needed anything more than a glance to ensure my own insanity—and it was that, insanity. Don't do it. —but it's Valentine's Day. Don't do it. Goddamnit, I hate this. I hadn't been up this early without not having gone to bed since I arrived on the east coast; I woke up promptly around 8 with lyrics in my brain and music in my head; it had been a long and strange night, with no dreams at all—at least none that I could remember, and it had been long since I had woken up with anything in my mind besides fear and panic. I refused to turn on my phone, quickly reaching for my notebook and a pen before the song would leave my mind—I had a lot of work to do, and for whatever reason I actually felt like doing it; I at least had the train ride to Manhattan to think about what I should be thinking about, or to unravel from whatever I was wrapped up in, even if it was just myself. This is not a coincidence This is not a drill; Of course, now— I feel like the villain; To swallow Dillon like a pill But In the end, though, Nothing's real, And nothing changes, Nothing will I should be working on my will I think of jumping— What a thrill I'm busy thumping, humphing Rumbling, mumbling about something And someday never comes, But Sunday does, And Sonny shows up Monday— I feel dumb, and awkward, suddenly— I'm just an awkward cunt; That's what the prophet wrote Upon the wall In Brooklyn, Out on Broadway, Where I was, Before the fall off; I gave my dad a call, And then my son— That's all that love was I showed up with my whole heart in my pocket What a long walk; What an alter, Whatever the sun does When he doesn't watch I'm Sasquatch, But it's water, starch, And crunches ‘This is not a coincidence.' I had spend the day before, valentines say, combing through my belongings meticulously—I was due to check out the following morning, and without much thiugh I had thought of another extension, which would l of course diminish the last of my money, but at least warrant another couple nights safe and warm. I hadn't made any sense to look for a normal job-not only would the process or getting hired take up all the rest of mh time, but it would be if. Purse two to theee weeks before I would receive any kind of paycheck at all—and with such little time left living indoors, It didn't make sense to try. I had been stranded in New York since addict f on the 4th, and though it had nearly been two weeks, I hadn't any luck in landing any gigs or performances. Jetro of course was still waiting with Blame Society records in Rome for my arrival, I hadn't even thought to notify him of the lack of such, as I partially blamed even alerting him that I was on my way via instragrwm for the flight delay that had caused me to miss my train, which of course caused me to miss my plane, landing me stuck in a hostile, cruel, and homeless USA. I carry, or Hold no stones for you; Haven't I a heart left It's the darkest of all the hours, And here you are, again— Not near, or far, But a bet is a bet, An eye for an eye And a head for a head And you're so far ahead, I've yet to catch up yet I have a gift for your daughter, Often, I've thought of her Lost in New York, No glass houses, It's just brick and mortar She calls me retarded, my mother So I haven't called her I just keep running north I just keep running my mouth on this podcast I just keep thinking that someone's my long lost love, at last You dirty bastard I'm an asshole: Handsome, Hanzel is In case it mattered Everyone's a fucking actor Look at that girl And look at that And look at that And look at that girl And look at that And look at that You took my whole world Turned it upside down And bottled up my love l You never told me where the bottle was But showed me what a model was And after that I fell in love with Something about doing drugs and Coming up with love to give to others Turning pigeons into doves And wishing I could just be nothin' —cause my life was fuckin loveless —and I thought you were my husband (Fuck Kayla Lauren; But I guess I gotta love her, Cause she's human) I took my time getting ready, no time, actually, in comparison to how slowly I had been moving throughout the week, and although I had been to the gym daily, I was worn, and tired—and coming up empty on all fronts. It was 10:14 or so by the time I finally made my way to the subway, ‘I'm still off', I thought— but not only couldn't I depressively sulk and lay in bed the way I thought I would or even maybe wanted to, I had been lifted out of my sleep and on my way to Equinox with a startling force—though I shouldn't have at all been suprised; this, whether consciously or not, I realized, had always happened when it came to the matter of the mysterious Sonny Moore. ‘Fuck' It was late evening Monday before the anxiety started to set in, and for some reason had been the reason I had decided to turn on my phone, to extend my reservation another couple days, buying time in comfort and warmth, on the freedom of privacy, which I had done nothing with but rest and try to be whole again, whatever that was—and whatever it meant. I had been cooking for the first time in months, stretching, and meditating the ways that only seemed to come natural when having my own time and space —and though it wasn't wholly my own, it was clean, peaceful, and quiet—included it's very own space heater, and was decorated in my favorite color blue. My host was an actual working professional who had succeeded in the entertainment industry—which of course made me jealous, but I at the very least had done my best to network and perhaps nitpick an easygoing cash job out of it “I have some connections”, she had piped—and so, with that in mind, I had sent her my links; and of course, with my extension being the reason for even having turned on my phone, was quick to check my text messages to see if there had been any movement with the booking agent she had supposedly sent my information to. “I gave him your Instagram, and so he'll probably reach out to you through there it he's interested.” I hated Instagram and it seemed to hate me, even before the devastating discovery of what a Kayla Lauren was, it had always seemingly been algorithmicallu programmed to make me hate myself, always spamming my feed with skinny white girls with blue eyes, which I only hated Seinfeld, admittedly out of bitter loneliness—the guys I seemed to like and fall for had always seemed to go for that type—white, skinny, blue eyes or some variation of the “ideal” standard of beauty, especially by Californian standards—and so I had always taken long breaks from it, shielding myself from self hatred: my absolute theory becoming that Instagram was an algorithm built for population control, preying on the weak and insecure, and probably attributing to more suicides than anyone had noticed or cared for. Lil biiiiiitz You know what else is weird about New York. People eat on the subway. They eat in the train station. They just— It's kind of gross; at least to me. Of course, the trains in New York are a lot cleaner. Sometimes the station even smells like bleach. That's so cool. Still don't want to eat in there. That's weird. INT. CHAUNCEY STREET. SUNDOWN | VALENTINES DAY BLŪ waits patiently for Instagram to download, sighing heavily as she waits; As it has finished, she rolls her eyes and opens the app, squinting and pursing her lips as she quickly checks for messages: only adds, nothing important. BLŪ Of course, no messages. Psh. She exits the app, thinking for a moment before re-opening it. Don't do it. SEARCH: Sk— INSTAGRAM skrillex You never learn. BLŪ watches the story, for the most part, unenthused—until TONIGHT: BROOKLYN NEW YORK. BLŪ AGH! The phone flies from her hand and onto the bed as she seizes, flying back and hitting the wall with a thud—then dramatically backing up into the closet, closing both doors and exclaiming in the darkness BLŪ (CONT'D) I'm gonna die like this. OH NO. HE'S IN BROOKLYN?! RIGHT NOW?! SKRILLEX I'M IN BROOKLYN. RIGHT NOW. WHY WOULD HE BE IN BROOKLYN. I'M IN BROOKLYN. (heavy New York accent) I'M IN BROOKLYN. (even heavier New York accent) I'M IN BROOKLYN. (*hawks loogie, spits*) [very ugly cry] I was expecting to see some cheesy picture like I had just a couple years before—or however long it had been. So much time had passed and I had no doubt there was still more and that I wouldn't be seeing Sonny tonight, or even anytime soon—still, I was headed towards the rooftop to collect my stones, and though the tickets were sold out and there were said to be none at the door, I was headed for the train before I even knew why, or what was happening. Well, he's out of the basement. BITCH GET OUT THE ATTICK I'm in the closet now, I had a heart attack, I'm in a panic You need a manual? This is a stick shift This is some sick shit Click click, bitch I got witches in automatic Automatic It was 11:11 AM; I had never been to Manhattan to early before, at least not from Brooklyn; I knew my way to Equinox Sports club easily by now, without getting lost, or much hassle; it was an easy one hour train ride—and this morning, even easier; the writing came automatically, rather than forced, as it had been, and the ride went by almost too quickly, despite a full train and a flurry of emotions I worked heartfly to keep in check. ‘This changes nothing.' , I thought, more awestruck than anything and trying to convince myself nothing had changed, though something certainly had. Manhattan looked even better in the daylight—clear and sunny, and even a bit warm; babies in strollers and dogs on leashes and for a moment or two, I might have even forgotten I was homeless, dropping 2.5 Jimmy Fallons on a piping hot coffee at the shop I had always passed, but was never open. I would be at Sports Club until close, as I had planned to be all week but had always fallen short of, struck with jet lag and crippling depression at the same time—but today, and even if it was for the best that I couldn't seem to get exactly what I wanted, If even just out of sheer disbelief, I had at least been shaken out of my tomb, if only for a moment, and into work mode, still grieving the self I had lost in the collision of stardust and superstardom, fame, and misfortune—tears still on the brink of rolling down my cheek, and the cost of sicccess a grueling question burning somewhere between my still bleeding heart, and somewhere in the back of my mind. ‘Its like a fucked up cheaper by the dozen' And I still haven't frgotten about Dillon Francis, But Sonny seems to fuck me up a bit, —and then some It's just an addendum: I flipped the script and went dumb Here's my number, Christopher Columbus; And a bumper sticker Still a nigger Still a nothing trying to make it bigger Still a little off my rocker, Like I bought, at Cracker Barrel I'm still scared of marriage, Mind my manners, like Harriet Tubman Somebody's up to somethin' Better suck it up and get some crunches in Before I go to lunch And jump from too high up Or hang off of some bridge Just to get to the dimension Where it's Skrillex in the picture With Dillon standing next to him, And I'm just in the middle, Front and center With an Emmy Win An Oscar nomination, And a Tony, where my Grammy is: A curio cabinet I had custom fashioned for my bathroom; Next to the magazine rack, actually— Where I'm on every cover wearing fabrics I myself imagined, shining like a dragon eating laffy taffy; Fuck, I Suck at mathematics, —But I finally got my masters degree. Nice. Jeez, It would be tragic to have it all go up in ashes Lighting matches just to get the smell of gas to shatter— Or to dissipate, I estimate I'm 40 minutes late, But if I make it, I'll get naked on the plane, For heaven's sake. What the fuck is this. Some Sunnï Blū shit, I guess. “I guess.” I'm still mad at the world, I'm still mad at your girl, for being better than me So mad I could hurl, But I'm still fasting, actually; It's intermittent, In a minute, I might turn to Skrillex, Talk to Fred Again Then take some medicine And finally finish, like- “I did it” Oh look, it's Fred. Yep. Oh. Hi. It's Fred Again. That's me. Oh. Hey there. It's Fred..Again. Fucking a. JIMMY THE MOBSTER Alright, Jimmy—you sick sonofabitch. JIMMY FALLON —just kill me already. JIMMY THE MOBSTER WHERE IS IT. JIMMY FALLON Where is what. JIMMY THE MOBSTER YOU KNOW WHAT. JIMMY FALLON I don't know what. JIMMY THE MOBSTER —my medallion. JIMMY FALLON You were wearing a medallion? JIMMY THE MOBSTER I'M ALWAYS WEARING MY MEDALLION JIMMY FALLON How am I supposed to know that JIMMY THE MOBSTER there's only me and you here— JIMMY FALLON you know what they say—there's a crowd— JIMMY THE MOBSTER Listen, Jimmy Fallon, you illiterate motherfucker! JIMMY FALON I'm not illiterate; I'm very well read. JIMMY THE MOBSTER oh yeah! What was the last book you read? JIMMY FALLON … JIMMY THE MOBSTER …that's what I thought. [beat] JIMMY THE MOBSTER grabs JIMMY FALLON by the shoulders abrasively JIMMY THE MOBSTER (CONT'D) WHERE'S MY MEDALLION, JIMMY!?! JIMMY FALLON I DON'T—KNOW! JIMMY THE MOBSTER YOU DO KNOW! JIMMY FALLON NO, I DONT—you blindfolded and kidnapped me! JIMMY THE MOBSTER I kidnapped you?! C'mon' you're like 50- JIMMY FALLON I'm 42. JIMMY THE MOBSTER —I snatched you. “Snached” hm. I like that. MEANWHILE, in HOLLYWOOD This is a serious job… It's a job. A serious job. I'll take it. Wtf is this dude into. Whippets and women— Like every-other Hollywood nigga Stop using the n'word. It makes while people uncomfortable. Imagine what it's like being called the n word like it's your name. FLASHBACK BEVERLY HILLS, CALIFORNIA PRODUCER YOURE JUST A NIGGER SLAVE. (That actually happened.) Anyway. As you can see, or might have guessed, I'm desperate for attention, Sonny followed me to Brooklyn, But never even mentioned it: I should have figured he was listening, When I heard Renaissance, And lost the mixtape that I did That Skrillex took it off of Glad It didn't win the Grammy I'd be mad if it had. Cause I was on it! Not Exactly. Swear to God, I might have lost it, Heard applause and started walking Nodded off, And woke up in a coffin Coughs, What a photographer. DILLON FRANCIS has been buried alive, inside or a coffin. I love this scene. He really is a good actor. (In my mind.) Dude, you are creep level 1 Billion. Whatever, he followed me to Brooklyn. I am you. You know what, That is something I would do if I was stupid rich and… And what. I had fallen in love with Sonny Moore, not at first sight—but at first glance; it seemed he had been quite literally tossed into my broken and shattered world, and— What, I'm an animal! Did you fuck? Should I have? I would have. I know you would have. I'm not Annie; She is pretty, and fun; An addict, an alcoholic And formerly, my other half When I was one, But now I'm half of half of half And then some; I've been numb, I've never felt like this, Since I've been struck. I guess if I drink, I'll be a big drunk; And If I die before I ever wake I'll be in big luck Honestly, After Kayla Lauren, I didn't give a fuck Been thinking of jumping, Then something hit me like a big truck I love eating. There was some sort of event on the basketball court at Sports Club; I had been there already two entire hours, and spent most of it in the sauna, still followed by coughing people, I knew I still wasn't out or the heap of madness or broken from any spell or curse it might have been — and it wasn't fair, I wasn't fair skinned, and it didn't make a difference at all what had happened; I still wanted to end it. I'm losing my mind again Losing a light again Losing my light, But if I run to find it I just might I just might —I'll fly like a kite. He's trying to kill me. He's not doing a bad job. Don't know what i'm working towards; Don't know what i'm running for— Don't know about Sonny Moore (He's not for me;) Or so I thought before, therefore— I take metrormin I'm still homeless, Searching for a metaphor, An aquafir, And somewhere to plug my phone in (Better than being ignored and drinking tap water, On the fourth floor) Housing is a human right I hate this place It's just not right I'm sick of fighting I'm not racist; Just not fucking white enough To run for red and right; I guess I'm blū then. I could be crying in the sauna. But I guess I'm writing you a message It's just a bullet in my head It's just another lesson It's just another test, at best It's just an algorithm; Go back to my nest And rest for just a minute This is season 6 of a Legends, Now I'm turning to a villain I keep coming up with Skrillex, But I have my heart to Dillon Here's a tiny violin; It's getting violent since intermission Ultraviolet light, And impolite fixations, Revelations, Realizations, Revolutions, Reservations Let's set a date then— Is it fucking coughs, Or is it Satan? I hate this. You would want to jump in front of a train, too If for years. No matter what you did or where you went People came around you and just started coughing That's such an evil fucking thing to experience For someone who never wanted anything But to be loved But was always too fat Too black And just altogether too anything to ever experience love, joy, and happiness the wayoh other people do And so, it must be hell Cause all I do is love, and love, and love And just get shit on And coughed at And called retarded And falling short of success I'm not heartless I just carry rocks around And get followed by coughing bodies My life fuckin sucks, man I just want to turn the simulation off, And on again I just want to take a long nap, And wake up in the arms of a man I just want a booking manager, And an orgasm. And a ham sandwhich, And my land back, And to be happy Or maybe like half a xanex Wanna throw myself down on the train tracks I want a can of spam and pancakes Like breakfast made by my dad I want to hold hands, And a whole home, with a landing pad Or maybe just an address, and a gas lamp Or a campfire Timestamp that. This is the third and final act. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

SEASON 6 ACT III - Part II Oh no. I told you, this was a bad idea DONT CHECK THE— It's too late. “A Writing Assignment” Fuxk. This is bad. I'M GONNA DIE LIKE THIS. Well, it's Brooklyn—there's gonna be a fire escape and a rooftop. This is creeper level 9000 Whatever. Where'd the bass go? I've lost my sense of direction I'm mad I can't have you, It's candid I shouldn't be out here like this l I should have gone to Manhattan Are you mad, man— At the mad hatter! At the course of action in this rendition fuxk, it is Skrillex. I just went to look for Kayla Lauren. Got hit with the other one instead. “I insist, do it this way” Better get a good picture, Better get a good fix on your riches Maybe this is why my scar was lighting up all morning Maybe that's the reason I was off. Without my phone all day. Maybe that's the reason I was fasting. Good Goddamnit man, You're awful good at acting Awful good at grabbing ass, And awful good at dancing Awful good at making friends And awful good at First things first, And first things last, and after— Amsterdam I never guessed where York was at I never asked I never asked I never asked FUCK. What, man. I think Skrillex listens to my podcast. Well, that's, uh. Fuck that. Fuxk that. Fuck that. Well, that's one hell of a flex. It's a pop up. I just had a dream about surfing. Better stop, God. There might be a show for every day of the week. I'm still weak in the knees. I don't know what I need. I'm still a mothafuckin Skrillex fiend. Have a nice dream. Have some ice cream. There's the ice queen. That's been three times since my eye started bleeding. I thought I was just an MC, Or a DJ, I might take the soul train But don't have a ticket Thanks. Now whose the dick. Well , I'm just taking pictures. How's Dillon Francis. Now that's a priority. I can't ShaZam from out here, you know. I called my dad. I thought you had no family. Same thing as having no home, or, No where to go, I'm no homer, I'm sitting here, hopeless, outside or your show— Not hoping to see you, or anything I'll be you, inside my dreams, Sequels for everything Sequences, sequins and diamon rings, Sequoias and I still have feelings for I still have feelings for Feelings for everything This is the weakest I've been since I needed you 2019 was the year that the hero Was broke Well. That's it. What. That's the whole thing. Can't be the whole thing Do you want to take a half, or a whole thing Do you want to wear the pants, or the whole ring Should I take a flight to France, or to Oakland Stuck in a chokehold, God, I'm too old for this God, I just want to go home; Here's a long rope to hang your self with— Now I'm locked up in homeroom I lost it all once, got it all at the pawnshop For $96 dollars— The original price tag, of course, read $115 though. I honestly thought I never wanted to see Skrillex again, but as it turned out— as I was, of course, trying to connect with closure, snooping into Instagram just to find evidence or romance, which I did—not that I needed anything more than a glance to ensure my own insanity—and it was that, insanity. Don't do it. —but it's Valentine's Day. Don't do it. Goddamnit, I hate this. I hadn't been up this early without not having gone to bed since I arrived on the east coast; I woke up promptly around 8 with lyrics in my brain and music in my head; it had been a long and strange night, with no dreams at all—at least none that I could remember, and it had been long since I had woken up with anything in my mind besides fear and panic. I refused to turn on my phone, quickly reaching for my notebook and a pen before the song would leave my mind—I had a lot of work to do, and for whatever reason I actually felt like doing it; I at least had the train ride to Manhattan to think about what I should be thinking about, or to unravel from whatever I was wrapped up in, even if it was just myself. This is not a coincidence This is not a drill; Of course, now— I feel like the villain; To swallow Dillon like a pill But In the end, though, Nothing's real, And nothing changes, Nothing will I should be working on my will I think of jumping— What a thrill I'm busy thumping, humphing Rumbling, mumbling about something And someday never comes, But Sunday does, And Sonny shows up Monday— I feel dumb, and awkward, suddenly— I'm just an awkward cunt; That's what the prophet wrote Upon the wall In Brooklyn, Out on Broadway, Where I was, Before the fall off; I gave my dad a call, And then my son— That's all that love was I showed up with my whole heart in my pocket What a long walk; What an alter, Whatever the sun does When he doesn't watch I'm Sasquatch, But it's water, starch, And crunches ‘This is not a coincidence.' I had spend the day before, valentines say, combing through my belongings meticulously—I was due to check out the following morning, and without much thiugh I had thought of another extension, which would l of course diminish the last of my money, but at least warrant another couple nights safe and warm. I hadn't made any sense to look for a normal job-not only would the process or getting hired take up all the rest of mh time, but it would be if. Purse two to theee weeks before I would receive any kind of paycheck at all—and with such little time left living indoors, It didn't make sense to try. I had been stranded in New York since addict f on the 4th, and though it had nearly been two weeks, I hadn't any luck in landing any gigs or performances. Jetro of course was still waiting with Blame Society records in Rome for my arrival, I hadn't even thought to notify him of the lack of such, as I partially blamed even alerting him that I was on my way via instragrwm for the flight delay that had caused me to miss my train, which of course caused me to miss my plane, landing me stuck in a hostile, cruel, and homeless USA. I carry, or Hold no stones for you; Haven't I a heart left It's the darkest of all the hours, And here you are, again— Not near, or far, But a bet is a bet, An eye for an eye And a head for a head And you're so far ahead, I've yet to catch up yet I have a gift for your daughter, Often, I've thought of her Lost in New York, No glass houses, It's just brick and mortar She calls me retarded, my mother So I haven't called her I just keep running north I just keep running my mouth on this podcast I just keep thinking that someone's my long lost love, at last You dirty bastard I'm an asshole: Handsome, Hanzel is In case it mattered Everyone's a fucking actor Look at that girl And look at that And look at that And look at that girl And look at that And look at that You took my whole world Turned it upside down And bottled up my love l You never told me where the bottle was But showed me what a model was And after that I fell in love with Something about doing drugs and Coming up with love to give to others Turning pigeons into doves And wishing I could just be nothin' —cause my life was fuckin loveless —and I thought you were my husband (Fuck Kayla Lauren; But I guess I gotta love her, Cause she's human) I took my time getting ready, no time, actually, in comparison to how slowly I had been moving throughout the week, and although I had been to the gym daily, I was worn, and tired—and coming up empty on all fronts. It was 10:14 or so by the time I finally made my way to the subway, ‘I'm still off', I thought— but not only couldn't I depressively sulk and lay in bed the way I thought I would or even maybe wanted to, I had been lifted out of my sleep and on my way to Equinox with a startling force—though I shouldn't have at all been suprised; this, whether consciously or not, I realized, had always happened when it came to the matter of the mysterious Sonny Moore. ‘Fuck' It was late evening Monday before the anxiety started to set in, and for some reason had been the reason I had decided to turn on my phone, to extend my reservation another couple days, buying time in comfort and warmth, on the freedom of privacy, which I had done nothing with but rest and try to be whole again, whatever that was—and whatever it meant. I had been cooking for the first time in months, stretching, and meditating the ways that only seemed to come natural when having my own time and space —and though it wasn't wholly my own, it was clean, peaceful, and quiet—included it's very own space heater, and was decorated in my favorite color blue. My host was an actual working professional who had succeeded in the entertainment industry—which of course made me jealous, but I at the very least had done my best to network and perhaps nitpick an easygoing cash job out of it “I have some connections”, she had piped—and so, with that in mind, I had sent her my links; and of course, with my extension being the reason for even having turned on my phone, was quick to check my text messages to see if there had been any movement with the booking agent she had supposedly sent my information to. “I gave him your Instagram, and so he'll probably reach out to you through there it he's interested.” I hated Instagram and it seemed to hate me, even before the devastating discovery of what a Kayla Lauren was, it had always seemingly been algorithmicallu programmed to make me hate myself, always spamming my feed with skinny white girls with blue eyes, which I only hated Seinfeld, admittedly out of bitter loneliness—the guys I seemed to like and fall for had always seemed to go for that type—white, skinny, blue eyes or some variation of the “ideal” standard of beauty, especially by Californian standards—and so I had always taken long breaks from it, shielding myself from self hatred: my absolute theory becoming that Instagram was an algorithm built for population control, preying on the weak and insecure, and probably attributing to more suicides than anyone had noticed or cared for. Lil biiiiiitz You know what else is weird about New York. People eat on the subway. They eat in the train station. They just— It's kind of gross; at least to me. Of course, the trains in New York are a lot cleaner. Sometimes the station even smells like bleach. That's so cool. Still don't want to eat in there. That's weird. INT. CHAUNCEY STREET. SUNDOWN | VALENTINES DAY BLŪ waits patiently for Instagram to download, sighing heavily as she waits; As it has finished, she rolls her eyes and opens the app, squinting and pursing her lips as she quickly checks for messages: only adds, nothing important. BLŪ Of course, no messages. Psh. She exits the app, thinking for a moment before re-opening it. Don't do it. SEARCH: Sk— INSTAGRAM skrillex You never learn. BLŪ watches the story, for the most part, unenthused—until TONIGHT: BROOKLYN NEW YORK. BLŪ AGH! The phone flies from her hand and onto the bed as she seizes, flying back and hitting the wall with a thud—then dramatically backing up into the closet, closing both doors and exclaiming in the darkness BLŪ (CONT'D) I'm gonna die like this. OH NO. HE'S IN BROOKLYN?! RIGHT NOW?! SKRILLEX I'M IN BROOKLYN. RIGHT NOW. WHY WOULD HE BE IN BROOKLYN. I'M IN BROOKLYN. (heavy New York accent) I'M IN BROOKLYN. (even heavier New York accent) I'M IN BROOKLYN. (*hawks loogie, spits*) [very ugly cry] I was expecting to see some cheesy picture like I had just a couple years before—or however long it had been. So much time had passed and I had no doubt there was still more and that I wouldn't be seeing Sonny tonight, or even anytime soon—still, I was headed towards the rooftop to collect my stones, and though the tickets were sold out and there were said to be none at the door, I was headed for the train before I even knew why, or what was happening. Well, he's out of the basement. BITCH GET OUT THE ATTICK I'm in the closet now, I had a heart attack, I'm in a panic You need a manual? This is a stick shift This is some sick shit Click click, bitch I got witches in automatic Automatic It was 11:11 AM; I had never been to Manhattan to early before, at least not from Brooklyn; I knew my way to Equinox Sports club easily by now, without getting lost, or much hassle; it was an easy one hour train ride—and this morning, even easier; the writing came automatically, rather than forced, as it had been, and the ride went by almost too quickly, despite a full train and a flurry of emotions I worked heartfly to keep in check. ‘This changes nothing.' , I thought, more awestruck than anything and trying to convince myself nothing had changed, though something certainly had. Manhattan looked even better in the daylight—clear and sunny, and even a bit warm; babies in strollers and dogs on leashes and for a moment or two, I might have even forgotten I was homeless, dropping 2.5 Jimmy Fallons on a piping hot coffee at the shop I had always passed, but was never open. I would be at Sports Club until close, as I had planned to be all week but had always fallen short of, struck with jet lag and crippling depression at the same time—but today, and even if it was for the best that I couldn't seem to get exactly what I wanted, If even just out of sheer disbelief, I had at least been shaken out of my tomb, if only for a moment, and into work mode, still grieving the self I had lost in the collision of stardust and superstardom, fame, and misfortune—tears still on the brink of rolling down my cheek, and the cost of sicccess a grueling question burning somewhere between my still bleeding heart, and somewhere in the back of my mind. ‘Its like a fucked up cheaper by the dozen' And I still haven't frgotten about Dillon Francis, But Sonny seems to fuck me up a bit, —and then some It's just an addendum: I flipped the script and went dumb Here's my number, Christopher Columbus; And a bumper sticker Still a nigger Still a nothing trying to make it bigger Still a little off my rocker, Like I bought, at Cracker Barrel I'm still scared of marriage, Mind my manners, like Harriet Tubman Somebody's up to somethin' Better suck it up and get some crunches in Before I go to lunch And jump from too high up Or hang off of some bridge Just to get to the dimension Where it's Skrillex in the picture With Dillon standing next to him, And I'm just in the middle, Front and center With an Emmy Win An Oscar nomination, And a Tony, where my Grammy is: A curio cabinet I had custom fashioned for my bathroom; Next to the magazine rack, actually— Where I'm on every cover wearing fabrics I myself imagined, shining like a dragon eating laffy taffy; Fuck, I Suck at mathematics, —But I finally got my masters degree. Nice. Jeez, It would be tragic to have it all go up in ashes Lighting matches just to get the smell of gas to shatter— Or to dissipate, I estimate I'm 40 minutes late, But if I make it, I'll get naked on the plane, For heaven's sake. What the fuck is this. Some Sunnï Blū shit, I guess. “I guess.” I'm still mad at the world, I'm still mad at your girl, for being better than me So mad I could hurl, But I'm still fasting, actually; It's intermittent, In a minute, I might turn to Skrillex, Talk to Fred Again Then take some medicine And finally finish, like- “I did it” Oh look, it's Fred. Yep. Oh. Hi. It's Fred Again. That's me. Oh. Hey there. It's Fred..Again. Fucking a. JIMMY THE MOBSTER Alright, Jimmy—you sick sonofabitch. JIMMY FALLON —just kill me already. JIMMY THE MOBSTER WHERE IS IT. JIMMY FALLON Where is what. JIMMY THE MOBSTER YOU KNOW WHAT. JIMMY FALLON I don't know what. JIMMY THE MOBSTER —my medallion. JIMMY FALLON You were wearing a medallion? JIMMY THE MOBSTER I'M ALWAYS WEARING MY MEDALLION JIMMY FALLON How am I supposed to know that JIMMY THE MOBSTER there's only me and you here— JIMMY FALLON you know what they say—there's a crowd— JIMMY THE MOBSTER Listen, Jimmy Fallon, you illiterate motherfucker! JIMMY FALON I'm not illiterate; I'm very well read. JIMMY THE MOBSTER oh yeah! What was the last book you read? JIMMY FALLON … JIMMY THE MOBSTER …that's what I thought. [beat] JIMMY THE MOBSTER grabs JIMMY FALLON by the shoulders abrasively JIMMY THE MOBSTER (CONT'D) WHERE'S MY MEDALLION, JIMMY!?! JIMMY FALLON I DON'T—KNOW! JIMMY THE MOBSTER YOU DO KNOW! JIMMY FALLON NO, I DONT—you blindfolded and kidnapped me! JIMMY THE MOBSTER I kidnapped you?! C'mon' you're like 50- JIMMY FALLON I'm 42. JIMMY THE MOBSTER —I snatched you. “Snached” hm. I like that. MEANWHILE, in HOLLYWOOD This is a serious job… It's a job. A serious job. I'll take it. Wtf is this dude into. Whippets and women— Like every-other Hollywood nigga Stop using the n'word. It makes while people uncomfortable. Imagine what it's like being called the n word like it's your name. FLASHBACK BEVERLY HILLS, CALIFORNIA PRODUCER YOURE JUST A NIGGER SLAVE. (That actually happened.) Anyway. As you can see, or might have guessed, I'm desperate for attention, Sonny followed me to Brooklyn, But never even mentioned it: I should have figured he was listening, When I heard Renaissance, And lost the mixtape that I did That Skrillex took it off of Glad It didn't win the Grammy I'd be mad if it had. Cause I was on it! Not Exactly. Swear to God, I might have lost it, Heard applause and started walking Nodded off, And woke up in a coffin Coughs, What a photographer. DILLON FRANCIS has been buried alive, inside or a coffin. I love this scene. He really is a good actor. (In my mind.) Dude, you are creep level 1 Billion. Whatever, he followed me to Brooklyn. I am you. You know what, That is something I would do if I was stupid rich and… And what. I had fallen in love with Sonny Moore, not at first sight—but at first glance; it seemed he had been quite literally tossed into my broken and shattered world, and— What, I'm an animal! Did you fuck? Should I have? I would have. I know you would have. I'm not Annie; She is pretty, and fun; An addict, an alcoholic And formerly, my other half When I was one, But now I'm half of half of half And then some; I've been numb, I've never felt like this, Since I've been struck. I guess if I drink, I'll be a big drunk; And If I die before I ever wake I'll be in big luck Honestly, After Kayla Lauren, I didn't give a fuck Been thinking of jumping, Then something hit me like a big truck I love eating. There was some sort of event on the basketball court at Sports Club; I had been there already two entire hours, and spent most of it in the sauna, still followed by coughing people, I knew I still wasn't out or the heap of madness or broken from any spell or curse it might have been — and it wasn't fair, I wasn't fair skinned, and it didn't make a difference at all what had happened; I still wanted to end it. I'm losing my mind again Losing a light again Losing my light, But if I run to find it I just might I just might —I'll fly like a kite. He's trying to kill me. He's not doing a bad job. Don't know what i'm working towards; Don't know what i'm running for— Don't know about Sonny Moore (He's not for me;) Or so I thought before, therefore— I take metrormin I'm still homeless, Searching for a metaphor, An aquafir, And somewhere to plug my phone in (Better than being ignored and drinking tap water, On the fourth floor) Housing is a human right I hate this place It's just not right I'm sick of fighting I'm not racist; Just not fucking white enough To run for red and right; I guess I'm blū then. I could be crying in the sauna. But I guess I'm writing you a message It's just a bullet in my head It's just another lesson It's just another test, at best It's just an algorithm; Go back to my nest And rest for just a minute This is season 6 of a Legends, Now I'm turning to a villain I keep coming up with Skrillex, But I have my heart to Dillon Here's a tiny violin; It's getting violent since intermission Ultraviolet light, And impolite fixations, Revelations, Realizations, Revolutions, Reservations Let's set a date then— Is it fucking coughs, Or is it Satan? I hate this. You would want to jump in front of a train, too If for years. No matter what you did or where you went People came around you and just started coughing That's such an evil fucking thing to experience For someone who never wanted anything But to be loved But was always too fat Too black And just altogether too anything to ever experience love, joy, and happiness the wayoh other people do And so, it must be hell Cause all I do is love, and love, and love And just get shit on And coughed at And called retarded And falling short of success I'm not heartless I just carry rocks around And get followed by coughing bodies My life fuckin sucks, man I just want to turn the simulation off, And on again I just want to take a long nap, And wake up in the arms of a man I just want a booking manager, And an orgasm. And a ham sandwhich, And my land back, And to be happy Or maybe like half a xanex Wanna throw myself down on the train tracks I want a can of spam and pancakes Like breakfast made by my dad I want to hold hands, And a whole home, with a landing pad Or maybe just an address, and a gas lamp Or a campfire Timestamp that. This is the third and final act. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

SEASON 6 ACT III - Part II Oh no. I told you, this was a bad idea DONT CHECK THE— It's too late. “A Writing Assignment” Fuxk. This is bad. I'M GONNA DIE LIKE THIS. Well, it's Brooklyn—there's gonna be a fire escape and a rooftop. This is creeper level 9000 Whatever. Where'd the bass go? I've lost my sense of direction I'm mad I can't have you, It's candid I shouldn't be out here like this l I should have gone to Manhattan Are you mad, man— At the mad hatter! At the course of action in this rendition fuxk, it is Skrillex. I just went to look for Kayla Lauren. Got hit with the other one instead. “I insist, do it this way” Better get a good picture, Better get a good fix on your riches Maybe this is why my scar was lighting up all morning Maybe that's the reason I was off. Without my phone all day. Maybe that's the reason I was fasting. Good Goddamnit man, You're awful good at acting Awful good at grabbing ass, And awful good at dancing Awful good at making friends And awful good at First things first, And first things last, and after— Amsterdam I never guessed where York was at I never asked I never asked I never asked FUCK. What, man. I think Skrillex listens to my podcast. Well, that's, uh. Fuck that. Fuxk that. Fuck that. Well, that's one hell of a flex. It's a pop up. I just had a dream about surfing. Better stop, God. There might be a show for every day of the week. I'm still weak in the knees. I don't know what I need. I'm still a mothafuckin Skrillex fiend. Have a nice dream. Have some ice cream. There's the ice queen. That's been three times since my eye started bleeding. I thought I was just an MC, Or a DJ, I might take the soul train But don't have a ticket Thanks. Now whose the dick. Well , I'm just taking pictures. How's Dillon Francis. Now that's a priority. I can't ShaZam from out here, you know. I called my dad. I thought you had no family. Same thing as having no home, or, No where to go, I'm no homer, I'm sitting here, hopeless, outside or your show— Not hoping to see you, or anything I'll be you, inside my dreams, Sequels for everything Sequences, sequins and diamon rings, Sequoias and I still have feelings for I still have feelings for Feelings for everything This is the weakest I've been since I needed you 2019 was the year that the hero Was broke Well. That's it. What. That's the whole thing. Can't be the whole thing Do you want to take a half, or a whole thing Do you want to wear the pants, or the whole ring Should I take a flight to France, or to Oakland Stuck in a chokehold, God, I'm too old for this God, I just want to go home; Here's a long rope to hang your self with— Now I'm locked up in homeroom I lost it all once, got it all at the pawnshop For $96 dollars— The original price tag, of course, read $115 though. I honestly thought I never wanted to see Skrillex again, but as it turned out— as I was, of course, trying to connect with closure, snooping into Instagram just to find evidence or romance, which I did—not that I needed anything more than a glance to ensure my own insanity—and it was that, insanity. Don't do it. —but it's Valentine's Day. Don't do it. Goddamnit, I hate this. I hadn't been up this early without not having gone to bed since I arrived on the east coast; I woke up promptly around 8 with lyrics in my brain and music in my head; it had been a long and strange night, with no dreams at all—at least none that I could remember, and it had been long since I had woken up with anything in my mind besides fear and panic. I refused to turn on my phone, quickly reaching for my notebook and a pen before the song would leave my mind—I had a lot of work to do, and for whatever reason I actually felt like doing it; I at least had the train ride to Manhattan to think about what I should be thinking about, or to unravel from whatever I was wrapped up in, even if it was just myself. This is not a coincidence This is not a drill; Of course, now— I feel like the villain; To swallow Dillon like a pill But In the end, though, Nothing's real, And nothing changes, Nothing will I should be working on my will I think of jumping— What a thrill I'm busy thumping, humphing Rumbling, mumbling about something And someday never comes, But Sunday does, And Sonny shows up Monday— I feel dumb, and awkward, suddenly— I'm just an awkward cunt; That's what the prophet wrote Upon the wall In Brooklyn, Out on Broadway, Where I was, Before the fall off; I gave my dad a call, And then my son— That's all that love was I showed up with my whole heart in my pocket What a long walk; What an alter, Whatever the sun does When he doesn't watch I'm Sasquatch, But it's water, starch, And crunches ‘This is not a coincidence.' I had spend the day before, valentines say, combing through my belongings meticulously—I was due to check out the following morning, and without much thiugh I had thought of another extension, which would l of course diminish the last of my money, but at least warrant another couple nights safe and warm. I hadn't made any sense to look for a normal job-not only would the process or getting hired take up all the rest of mh time, but it would be if. Purse two to theee weeks before I would receive any kind of paycheck at all—and with such little time left living indoors, It didn't make sense to try. I had been stranded in New York since addict f on the 4th, and though it had nearly been two weeks, I hadn't any luck in landing any gigs or performances. Jetro of course was still waiting with Blame Society records in Rome for my arrival, I hadn't even thought to notify him of the lack of such, as I partially blamed even alerting him that I was on my way via instragrwm for the flight delay that had caused me to miss my train, which of course caused me to miss my plane, landing me stuck in a hostile, cruel, and homeless USA. I carry, or Hold no stones for you; Haven't I a heart left It's the darkest of all the hours, And here you are, again— Not near, or far, But a bet is a bet, An eye for an eye And a head for a head And you're so far ahead, I've yet to catch up yet I have a gift for your daughter, Often, I've thought of her Lost in New York, No glass houses, It's just brick and mortar She calls me retarded, my mother So I haven't called her I just keep running north I just keep running my mouth on this podcast I just keep thinking that someone's my long lost love, at last You dirty bastard I'm an asshole: Handsome, Hanzel is In case it mattered Everyone's a fucking actor Look at that girl And look at that And look at that And look at that girl And look at that And look at that You took my whole world Turned it upside down And bottled up my love l You never told me where the bottle was But showed me what a model was And after that I fell in love with Something about doing drugs and Coming up with love to give to others Turning pigeons into doves And wishing I could just be nothin' —cause my life was fuckin loveless —and I thought you were my husband (Fuck Kayla Lauren; But I guess I gotta love her, Cause she's human) I took my time getting ready, no time, actually, in comparison to how slowly I had been moving throughout the week, and although I had been to the gym daily, I was worn, and tired—and coming up empty on all fronts. It was 10:14 or so by the time I finally made my way to the subway, ‘I'm still off', I thought— but not only couldn't I depressively sulk and lay in bed the way I thought I would or even maybe wanted to, I had been lifted out of my sleep and on my way to Equinox with a startling force—though I shouldn't have at all been suprised; this, whether consciously or not, I realized, had always happened when it came to the matter of the mysterious Sonny Moore. ‘Fuck' It was late evening Monday before the anxiety started to set in, and for some reason had been the reason I had decided to turn on my phone, to extend my reservation another couple days, buying time in comfort and warmth, on the freedom of privacy, which I had done nothing with but rest and try to be whole again, whatever that was—and whatever it meant. I had been cooking for the first time in months, stretching, and meditating the ways that only seemed to come natural when having my own time and space —and though it wasn't wholly my own, it was clean, peaceful, and quiet—included it's very own space heater, and was decorated in my favorite color blue. My host was an actual working professional who had succeeded in the entertainment industry—which of course made me jealous, but I at the very least had done my best to network and perhaps nitpick an easygoing cash job out of it “I have some connections”, she had piped—and so, with that in mind, I had sent her my links; and of course, with my extension being the reason for even having turned on my phone, was quick to check my text messages to see if there had been any movement with the booking agent she had supposedly sent my information to. “I gave him your Instagram, and so he'll probably reach out to you through there it he's interested.” I hated Instagram and it seemed to hate me, even before the devastating discovery of what a Kayla Lauren was, it had always seemingly been algorithmicallu programmed to make me hate myself, always spamming my feed with skinny white girls with blue eyes, which I only hated Seinfeld, admittedly out of bitter loneliness—the guys I seemed to like and fall for had always seemed to go for that type—white, skinny, blue eyes or some variation of the “ideal” standard of beauty, especially by Californian standards—and so I had always taken long breaks from it, shielding myself from self hatred: my absolute theory becoming that Instagram was an algorithm built for population control, preying on the weak and insecure, and probably attributing to more suicides than anyone had noticed or cared for. Lil biiiiiitz You know what else is weird about New York. People eat on the subway. They eat in the train station. They just— It's kind of gross; at least to me. Of course, the trains in New York are a lot cleaner. Sometimes the station even smells like bleach. That's so cool. Still don't want to eat in there. That's weird. INT. CHAUNCEY STREET. SUNDOWN | VALENTINES DAY BLŪ waits patiently for Instagram to download, sighing heavily as she waits; As it has finished, she rolls her eyes and opens the app, squinting and pursing her lips as she quickly checks for messages: only adds, nothing important. BLŪ Of course, no messages. Psh. She exits the app, thinking for a moment before re-opening it. Don't do it. SEARCH: Sk— INSTAGRAM skrillex You never learn. BLŪ watches the story, for the most part, unenthused—until TONIGHT: BROOKLYN NEW YORK. BLŪ AGH! The phone flies from her hand and onto the bed as she seizes, flying back and hitting the wall with a thud—then dramatically backing up into the closet, closing both doors and exclaiming in the darkness BLŪ (CONT'D) I'm gonna die like this. OH NO. HE'S IN BROOKLYN?! RIGHT NOW?! SKRILLEX I'M IN BROOKLYN. RIGHT NOW. WHY WOULD HE BE IN BROOKLYN. I'M IN BROOKLYN. (heavy New York accent) I'M IN BROOKLYN. (even heavier New York accent) I'M IN BROOKLYN. (*hawks loogie, spits*) [very ugly cry] I was expecting to see some cheesy picture like I had just a couple years before—or however long it had been. So much time had passed and I had no doubt there was still more and that I wouldn't be seeing Sonny tonight, or even anytime soon—still, I was headed towards the rooftop to collect my stones, and though the tickets were sold out and there were said to be none at the door, I was headed for the train before I even knew why, or what was happening. Well, he's out of the basement. BITCH GET OUT THE ATTICK I'm in the closet now, I had a heart attack, I'm in a panic You need a manual? This is a stick shift This is some sick shit Click click, bitch I got witches in automatic Automatic It was 11:11 AM; I had never been to Manhattan to early before, at least not from Brooklyn; I knew my way to Equinox Sports club easily by now, without getting lost, or much hassle; it was an easy one hour train ride—and this morning, even easier; the writing came automatically, rather than forced, as it had been, and the ride went by almost too quickly, despite a full train and a flurry of emotions I worked heartfly to keep in check. ‘This changes nothing.' , I thought, more awestruck than anything and trying to convince myself nothing had changed, though something certainly had. Manhattan looked even better in the daylight—clear and sunny, and even a bit warm; babies in strollers and dogs on leashes and for a moment or two, I might have even forgotten I was homeless, dropping 2.5 Jimmy Fallons on a piping hot coffee at the shop I had always passed, but was never open. I would be at Sports Club until close, as I had planned to be all week but had always fallen short of, struck with jet lag and crippling depression at the same time—but today, and even if it was for the best that I couldn't seem to get exactly what I wanted, If even just out of sheer disbelief, I had at least been shaken out of my tomb, if only for a moment, and into work mode, still grieving the self I had lost in the collision of stardust and superstardom, fame, and misfortune—tears still on the brink of rolling down my cheek, and the cost of sicccess a grueling question burning somewhere between my still bleeding heart, and somewhere in the back of my mind. ‘Its like a fucked up cheaper by the dozen' And I still haven't frgotten about Dillon Francis, But Sonny seems to fuck me up a bit, —and then some It's just an addendum: I flipped the script and went dumb Here's my number, Christopher Columbus; And a bumper sticker Still a nigger Still a nothing trying to make it bigger Still a little off my rocker, Like I bought, at Cracker Barrel I'm still scared of marriage, Mind my manners, like Harriet Tubman Somebody's up to somethin' Better suck it up and get some crunches in Before I go to lunch And jump from too high up Or hang off of some bridge Just to get to the dimension Where it's Skrillex in the picture With Dillon standing next to him, And I'm just in the middle, Front and center With an Emmy Win An Oscar nomination, And a Tony, where my Grammy is: A curio cabinet I had custom fashioned for my bathroom; Next to the magazine rack, actually— Where I'm on every cover wearing fabrics I myself imagined, shining like a dragon eating laffy taffy; Fuck, I Suck at mathematics, —But I finally got my masters degree. Nice. Jeez, It would be tragic to have it all go up in ashes Lighting matches just to get the smell of gas to shatter— Or to dissipate, I estimate I'm 40 minutes late, But if I make it, I'll get naked on the plane, For heaven's sake. What the fuck is this. Some Sunnï Blū shit, I guess. “I guess.” I'm still mad at the world, I'm still mad at your girl, for being better than me So mad I could hurl, But I'm still fasting, actually; It's intermittent, In a minute, I might turn to Skrillex, Talk to Fred Again Then take some medicine And finally finish, like- “I did it” Oh look, it's Fred. Yep. Oh. Hi. It's Fred Again. That's me. Oh. Hey there. It's Fred..Again. Fucking a. JIMMY THE MOBSTER Alright, Jimmy—you sick sonofabitch. JIMMY FALLON —just kill me already. JIMMY THE MOBSTER WHERE IS IT. JIMMY FALLON Where is what. JIMMY THE MOBSTER YOU KNOW WHAT. JIMMY FALLON I don't know what. JIMMY THE MOBSTER —my medallion. JIMMY FALLON You were wearing a medallion? JIMMY THE MOBSTER I'M ALWAYS WEARING MY MEDALLION JIMMY FALLON How am I supposed to know that JIMMY THE MOBSTER there's only me and you here— JIMMY FALLON you know what they say—there's a crowd— JIMMY THE MOBSTER Listen, Jimmy Fallon, you illiterate motherfucker! JIMMY FALON I'm not illiterate; I'm very well read. JIMMY THE MOBSTER oh yeah! What was the last book you read? JIMMY FALLON … JIMMY THE MOBSTER …that's what I thought. [beat] JIMMY THE MOBSTER grabs JIMMY FALLON by the shoulders abrasively JIMMY THE MOBSTER (CONT'D) WHERE'S MY MEDALLION, JIMMY!?! JIMMY FALLON I DON'T—KNOW! JIMMY THE MOBSTER YOU DO KNOW! JIMMY FALLON NO, I DONT—you blindfolded and kidnapped me! JIMMY THE MOBSTER I kidnapped you?! C'mon' you're like 50- JIMMY FALLON I'm 42. JIMMY THE MOBSTER —I snatched you. “Snached” hm. I like that. MEANWHILE, in HOLLYWOOD This is a serious job… It's a job. A serious job. I'll take it. Wtf is this dude into. Whippets and women— Like every-other Hollywood nigga Stop using the n'word. It makes while people uncomfortable. Imagine what it's like being called the n word like it's your name. FLASHBACK BEVERLY HILLS, CALIFORNIA PRODUCER YOURE JUST A NIGGER SLAVE. (That actually happened.) Anyway. As you can see, or might have guessed, I'm desperate for attention, Sonny followed me to Brooklyn, But never even mentioned it: I should have figured he was listening, When I heard Renaissance, And lost the mixtape that I did That Skrillex took it off of Glad It didn't win the Grammy I'd be mad if it had. Cause I was on it! Not Exactly. Swear to God, I might have lost it, Heard applause and started walking Nodded off, And woke up in a coffin Coughs, What a photographer. DILLON FRANCIS has been buried alive, inside or a coffin. I love this scene. He really is a good actor. (In my mind.) Dude, you are creep level 1 Billion. Whatever, he followed me to Brooklyn. I am you. You know what, That is something I would do if I was stupid rich and… And what. I had fallen in love with Sonny Moore, not at first sight—but at first glance; it seemed he had been quite literally tossed into my broken and shattered world, and— What, I'm an animal! Did you fuck? Should I have? I would have. I know you would have. I'm not Annie; She is pretty, and fun; An addict, an alcoholic And formerly, my other half When I was one, But now I'm half of half of half And then some; I've been numb, I've never felt like this, Since I've been struck. I guess if I drink, I'll be a big drunk; And If I die before I ever wake I'll be in big luck Honestly, After Kayla Lauren, I didn't give a fuck Been thinking of jumping, Then something hit me like a big truck I love eating. There was some sort of event on the basketball court at Sports Club; I had been there already two entire hours, and spent most of it in the sauna, still followed by coughing people, I knew I still wasn't out or the heap of madness or broken from any spell or curse it might have been — and it wasn't fair, I wasn't fair skinned, and it didn't make a difference at all what had happened; I still wanted to end it. I'm losing my mind again Losing a light again Losing my light, But if I run to find it I just might I just might —I'll fly like a kite. He's trying to kill me. He's not doing a bad job. Don't know what i'm working towards; Don't know what i'm running for— Don't know about Sonny Moore (He's not for me;) Or so I thought before, therefore— I take metrormin I'm still homeless, Searching for a metaphor, An aquafir, And somewhere to plug my phone in (Better than being ignored and drinking tap water, On the fourth floor) Housing is a human right I hate this place It's just not right I'm sick of fighting I'm not racist; Just not fucking white enough To run for red and right; I guess I'm blū then. I could be crying in the sauna. But I guess I'm writing you a message It's just a bullet in my head It's just another lesson It's just another test, at best It's just an algorithm; Go back to my nest And rest for just a minute This is season 6 of a Legends, Now I'm turning to a villain I keep coming up with Skrillex, But I have my heart to Dillon Here's a tiny violin; It's getting violent since intermission Ultraviolet light, And impolite fixations, Revelations, Realizations, Revolutions, Reservations Let's set a date then— Is it fucking coughs, Or is it Satan? I hate this. You would want to jump in front of a train, too If for years. No matter what you did or where you went People came around you and just started coughing That's such an evil fucking thing to experience For someone who never wanted anything But to be loved But was always too fat Too black And just altogether too anything to ever experience love, joy, and happiness the wayoh other people do And so, it must be hell Cause all I do is love, and love, and love And just get shit on And coughed at And called retarded And falling short of success I'm not heartless I just carry rocks around And get followed by coughing bodies My life fuckin sucks, man I just want to turn the simulation off, And on again I just want to take a long nap, And wake up in the arms of a man I just want a booking manager, And an orgasm. And a ham sandwhich, And my land back, And to be happy Or maybe like half a xanex Wanna throw myself down on the train tracks I want a can of spam and pancakes Like breakfast made by my dad I want to hold hands, And a whole home, with a landing pad Or maybe just an address, and a gas lamp Or a campfire Timestamp that. This is the third and final act. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

The Miami Heat battled back against the Indiana Pacers to win 87-82 last night, with Bam Adebayo putting up 22 points and 17 rebounds and Jimmy Butler scoring seven straight points late in the fourth quarter to help secure the victory. In Brooklyn, Kevin Durant scored 30 points and Kyrie Irving had 24 to help the Nets defeat the Washington Wizards 112-100. In other action, the Memphis Grizzlies beat the Atlanta Hawks 128-103, with Tyus Jones scoring 22 points and 11 assists and Dillon Brooks adding 18 points. After the night of action in the NBA, Kainani Stevens and our Locked On NBA hosts tell you everything you need to know from the night in basketball on Locked On Game 2 Game: NBA.The Dallas Mavericks defeated the Oklahoma City Thunder 121-114, with Luka Doncic returning from injury to score 38 points and 11 rebounds and Spencer Dinwiddie adding 20 points and 10 assists. The San Antonio Spurs narrowly beat the Cleveland Cavaliers 112-111, and Damian Lillard tied his own franchise record by making 11 3-pointers to lead the Portland Trail Blazers to a 133-112 win over the Minnesota Timberwolves. Finally, the Los Angeles Clippers defeated the NBA-best Boston Celtics 113-93, with Paul George scoring 26 points and Kawhi Leonard putting up season highs of 25 points and nine rebounds. Our local experts recap everything from the NBA Sunday as part of the Locked On Podcast Network.Support Us By Supporting Our Sponsors!Built BarBuilt Bar is a protein bar that tastes like a candy bar. Go to builtbar.com and use promo code “LOCKEDON15,” and you'll get 15% off your next order.BetOnlineBetOnline.net has you covered this season with more props, odds and lines than ever before. BetOnline – Where The Game Starts!LinkedInLinkedIn Jobs helps you find the qualified candidates you want to talk to, faster. Post your job for free at LinkedIn.com/LOCKEDONNBAPrizePicksFirst time users can receive a 100% instant deposit match up to $100 with promo code LOCKEDON. That's PrizePicks.com – promo code; LOCKEDONNHTSADrive sober or get pulled over. Click HERE to learn more. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

The Miami Heat battled back against the Indiana Pacers to win 87-82 last night, with Bam Adebayo putting up 22 points and 17 rebounds and Jimmy Butler scoring seven straight points late in the fourth quarter to help secure the victory. In Brooklyn, Kevin Durant scored 30 points and Kyrie Irving had 24 to help the Nets defeat the Washington Wizards 112-100. In other action, the Memphis Grizzlies beat the Atlanta Hawks 128-103, with Tyus Jones scoring 22 points and 11 assists and Dillon Brooks adding 18 points. After the night of action in the NBA, Kainani Stevens and our Locked On NBA hosts tell you everything you need to know from the night in basketball on Locked On Game 2 Game: NBA. The Dallas Mavericks defeated the Oklahoma City Thunder 121-114, with Luka Doncic returning from injury to score 38 points and 11 rebounds and Spencer Dinwiddie adding 20 points and 10 assists. The San Antonio Spurs narrowly beat the Cleveland Cavaliers 112-111, and Damian Lillard tied his own franchise record by making 11 3-pointers to lead the Portland Trail Blazers to a 133-112 win over the Minnesota Timberwolves. Finally, the Los Angeles Clippers defeated the NBA-best Boston Celtics 113-93, with Paul George scoring 26 points and Kawhi Leonard putting up season highs of 25 points and nine rebounds. Our local experts recap everything from the NBA Sunday as part of the Locked On Podcast Network. Support Us By Supporting Our Sponsors! Built Bar Built Bar is a protein bar that tastes like a candy bar. Go to builtbar.com and use promo code “LOCKEDON15,” and you'll get 15% off your next order. BetOnline BetOnline.net has you covered this season with more props, odds and lines than ever before. BetOnline – Where The Game Starts! LinkedIn LinkedIn Jobs helps you find the qualified candidates you want to talk to, faster. Post your job for free at LinkedIn.com/LOCKEDONNBA PrizePicks First time users can receive a 100% instant deposit match up to $100 with promo code LOCKEDON. That's PrizePicks.com – promo code; LOCKEDON NHTSA Drive sober or get pulled over. Click HERE to learn more. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

The College Basketball Experience (@TCEonSGPN) on the Sports Gambling Podcast Network preview the upcoming slate of college basketball games on Wednesday, November 16th. Pick Dundee aka (@TheColbyD) & Ryan McIntyre (@Moneyline_Mac) handicap every single game on the college basketball schedule and key in on their favorite plays of the day. Can Chris Beard and the Texas Longhorns get their revenge from last year's beatdown against the Gonzaga Bulldogs? Will Shaheen Holloway get his first marquee victory at Seton Hall over the Iowa Hawkeyes? In Brooklyn, will Bobby Hurley and the Arizona State Sun Devils defeat the VCU Rams? Will Juwan Howard and the Michigan Wolverines defeat the Pittsburgh Panthers? Are we in for a treat with the Harvard Crimson and Northeastern Huskies? Can the Norse from Northern Kentucky pull off the upset over the Cincinnati Bearcats? Will Missouri State give the BYU Cougars a test in Provo? Will the Notre Dame Fighting Irish be on upset alert once again? How will the Jackrabbits from South Dakota State fare in a back to back spot in Fayetteville? We talk it all on this episode of The College Basketball Experience. SGPN Merch Store - https://sg.pn/store Download The Free SGPN App - https://sgpn.app WynnBET - Bet $100 and get a $100 FREE bet! - https://sg.pn/WynnBET Follow The College Experience & SGPN On Social Media Twitter - https://twitter.com/TCEonSGPN Twitter - http://www.twitter.com/gamblingpodcast Instagram - http://www.instagram.com/sportsgamblingpodcast TikTok - https://www.tiktok.com/@gamblingpodcast Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/sportsgamblingpodcast   Follow The Hosts On Social Media Colby Dant - http://www.twitter.com/thecolbyd Patty C - https://twitter.com/PattyC831 NC Nick - https://twitter.com/NC__NicK   Watch the Sports Gambling Podcast YouTube - https://www.sg.pn/YouTube Twitch - https://www.sg.pn/Twitch   Read & Discuss - Join the conversation Website - https://www.sportsgamblingpodcast.com Discord - https://sg.pn/discord Reddit - https://www.sg.pn/reddit   Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

The College Basketball Experience (@TCEonSGPN) on the Sports Gambling Podcast Network preview the upcoming slate of college basketball games on Wednesday, November 16th. Pick Dundee aka (@TheColbyD) & Ryan McIntyre (@Moneyline_Mac) handicap every single game on the college basketball schedule and key in on their favorite plays of the day.Can Chris Beard and the Texas Longhorns get their revenge from last year's beatdown against the Gonzaga Bulldogs? Will Shaheen Holloway get his first marquee victory at Seton Hall over the Iowa Hawkeyes? In Brooklyn, will Bobby Hurley and the Arizona State Sun Devils defeat the VCU Rams? Will Juwan Howard and the Michigan Wolverines defeat the Pittsburgh Panthers?Are we in for a treat with the Harvard Crimson and Northeastern Huskies? Can the Norse from Northern Kentucky pull off the upset over the Cincinnati Bearcats? Will Missouri State give the BYU Cougars a test in Provo? Will the Notre Dame Fighting Irish be on upset alert once again? How will the Jackrabbits from South Dakota State fare in a back to back spot in Fayetteville? We talk it all on this episode of The College Basketball Experience. SGPN Merch Store - https://sg.pn/storeDownload The Free SGPN App - https://sgpn.appWynnBET - Bet $100 and get a $100 FREE bet! - https://sg.pn/WynnBET Follow The College Experience & SGPN On Social MediaTwitter - https://twitter.com/TCEonSGPNTwitter - http://www.twitter.com/gamblingpodcastInstagram - http://www.instagram.com/sportsgamblingpodcastTikTok - https://www.tiktok.com/@gamblingpodcastFacebook - http://www.facebook.com/sportsgamblingpodcast Follow The Hosts On Social MediaColby Dant - http://www.twitter.com/thecolbydPatty C - https://twitter.com/PattyC831NC Nick - https://twitter.com/NC__NicK Watch the Sports Gambling PodcastYouTube - https://www.sg.pn/YouTubeTwitch - https://www.sg.pn/Twitch Read & Discuss - Join the conversationWebsite - https://www.sportsgamblingpodcast.comDiscord - https://sg.pn/discordReddit - https://www.sg.pn/reddit   Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

The College Basketball Experience (@TCEonSGPN) on the Sports Gambling Podcast Network preview the upcoming slate of college basketball games on Wednesday, November 16th. Pick Dundee aka (@TheColbyD) & Ryan McIntyre (@Moneyline_Mac) handicap every single game on the college basketball schedule and key in on their favorite plays of the day. Can Chris Beard and the Texas Longhorns get their revenge from last year's beatdown against the Gonzaga Bulldogs? Will Shaheen Holloway get his first marquee victory at Seton Hall over the Iowa Hawkeyes? In Brooklyn, will Bobby Hurley and the Arizona State Sun Devils defeat the VCU Rams? Will Juwan Howard and the Michigan Wolverines defeat the Pittsburgh Panthers? Are we in for a treat with the Harvard Crimson and Northeastern Huskies? Can the Norse from Northern Kentucky pull off the upset over the Cincinnati Bearcats? Will Missouri State give the BYU Cougars a test in Provo? Will the Notre Dame Fighting Irish be on upset alert once again? How will the Jackrabbits from South Dakota State fare in a back to back spot in Fayetteville? We talk it all on this episode of The College Basketball Experience. SGPN Merch Store - https://sg.pn/store Download The Free SGPN App - https://sgpn.app WynnBET - Bet $100 and get a $100 FREE bet! - https://sg.pn/WynnBET Follow The College Experience & SGPN On Social Media Twitter - https://twitter.com/TCEonSGPN Twitter - http://www.twitter.com/gamblingpodcast Instagram - http://www.instagram.com/sportsgamblingpodcast TikTok - https://www.tiktok.com/@gamblingpodcast Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/sportsgamblingpodcast   Follow The Hosts On Social Media Colby Dant - http://www.twitter.com/thecolbyd Patty C - https://twitter.com/PattyC831 NC Nick - https://twitter.com/NC__NicK   Watch the Sports Gambling Podcast YouTube - https://www.sg.pn/YouTube Twitch - https://www.sg.pn/Twitch   Read & Discuss - Join the conversation Website - https://www.sportsgamblingpodcast.com Discord - https://sg.pn/discord Reddit - https://www.sg.pn/reddit   Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices