Podcasts about jes uacute

ALMA SANS, EL SUBCONSCIENTE Y EL ALMA EL DEBATE SOBRE LOS RECURSOS DE NUESTRO PLANETA. - Agustín Argelich, ingeniero en telecomunicaciones, experto en transformación digital, colaborador del Think Tank Intelligent Community Forum, profesor del Master de Comunicación Digital y Nuevas tecnologías de la Universidad Abat Oliba CEU de Barcelona, del Master en Liderazgo de la Universidad de Lleida y de la asignatura de Consultoria en la Geneve Business School. Además, es autor del libro “Analizar, Actuar y Avanzar”. JESÚS EN EGIPTO - José de Alberto García, Egiptólogo e Investigador Programa domingo 18 mayo 2025 ALMA SANS Y LA REGENERACIÓN INTERIOR SAN BORONDÓN - Entrevista a Luís León Barreto, periodista y escritor LA HISTORIA CULTURAL DE DE LOS OVNIS EN ESPAÑA - Nacho Cabria, antropólogo, investigador y autor, entre otras obras de “Entre ufólogos, creyentes y contactados”, Ovnis y ciencias Humanas”, “Así creamos monstruos”, de Luciérnaga, e “Historia Cultural de los OVNIS en España”, de Reediciones Anómalas.

El debate analiza la figura de JESÚS desde la perspectiva histórica, social y filosófica, dejando el enfoque religioso a un lado. “Jesús es ya un personaje universal, un arquetipo; pero fue un hombre, una persona de la que ignoramos casi todo”, asegura JIMÉNEZ DEL OSO en la introducción. En primer lugar, se emite un documental. A continuación, se emite el debate con los siguientes invitados: ANTONIO PIÑERO (catedrático de Filología Neotestamentaria), SALVADOR FREIXEDO (exjesuita y escritor) y JORGE MANUEL RODRÍGUEZ (vicepresidente del Centro Español de Sindonología). También participa el periodista ANDRÉS ABERASTURI. Según Freixedo, “el cristianismo es un budismo occidentalizado y Cristo era un personaje que trajo el budismo acá, el primitivo cristianismo”. Sin embargo, Piñero difiere: “No es correcto, desde el punto de vista histórico, decir que Jesús trajo el budismo a Palestina; eso es desconocer cuál es el ambiente de Palestina en el siglo I (…) Jesús se encuadra muchísimo mejor como un rabino galileo con todas las connotaciones que tiene un rabino galileo del momento”. Los invitados discuten cuestiones relacionadas con la historicidad de Jesús, con la posibilidad de que hubiese viajado a la India, explican qué es la gnosis, hablan de la familia de Jesús, de la virginidad de María, del nacimiento y muerte de Jesús, de la expansión del Cristianismo, etc.

🗣️ ¡Nueva ronda de entrevistas en La Bicicleta Podcast! ¿Qué tal si conocemos la nueva faceta de JESÚS EZQUERRA? Dejó la bicicleta al final de la pasada temporada y ahora es director deportivo en el BURGOS BURPELLET BH. Además, elegimos a nuestro corredor de la semana. 📱 Síguenos en redes sociales: Twiter: @podcastLBC @albermg Instagram: @amarcosgallego 🟢 Escúchanos en Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/4FgUyioG97fwjEh5yXJETh?si=a0090831798c4d0d 📱 ¿Te gustaría anunciarte en este podcast?: https://advoices.com/la-bicicleta-podcast ⚠️ ¿Quieres ayudarnos? Puedes contribuir y convertirte en mecenas de La Bicicleta Podcast en Patreon. Desde 1,50€ al mes puedes ayudar a que sigamos aquí contigo cada día: https://patreon.com/LaBicicletaPodcast?utm_medium=unknown&utm_source=join_link&utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator&utm_content=copyLink 🚀 Únete al canal de Telegram: https://t.me/boost/LaBicicletaPodcast

RIBERA FIDELIS estuvieron en directo en OLVIDA TU EQUIPAJE. RIBERA FIDELIS es un grupo de música abierta, con influencias de muchos estilos, pero que no olvida el folclore de su tierra. Formado en la Ribera del Duero, en el pueblo de Langa de Duero, Soria, sus componentes viven en Madrid pero pasan allá muchos fines de semana y parte del verano. Ribera Fidelis, interpretan canciones propias, compuestas por JESÚS MARTÍN, compositor, voz, y guitarra. Componente de grupos como La Fanega (que en los años de la transición hicieron música social y reivindicativa), Objetivo Perdido (música rock, en tiempos de la movida), Pasimisí (música infantil, cuando fue maestro de música en Educación Primaria). LAURA GIL. Vocalista. (Estudiante e investigadora de la voz y el canto). PEDRO ELIPE, licenciado en Bellas Artes, es la guitarra solista. (Tocó en grupos importantes como Domingo y los Cítricos, en los años 80 y 90) Walter Rosenblum. Percusionista. Estudió trombón y Batería, y sigue investigando en el jazz y el folklore. Ribera Fidelis, han grabado 2 CD s, Todo es Sentir y Tocando Tierra, con varios colaboradores: Carlos Gil, Acordeón; Jonathan Colombo, steel guitar; Javier Polo, bajo; o Alberto Gambino, guitarra, piano, percusión... Ribera Fidelis interpretan sus composiciones con letra y música propias y también ponen música a poemas de Machado, Jaime Gil de Biezma, Juan Ramón Jiménez, o Federico García Lorca. Sus conciertos emocionan por sus bellas melodías y su profundidad poética, guiados por la expresiva voz de Laura Gil. Son recitales cargados de emocion, para buscadores de verdad, sensibilidad, altruismo y esencia...

ENERO: MES DEL AÑO NUEVO ¿¿ TE PERDISTE NUESTRO PROGRAMA No. 2,756 ?? Llénate nuevamente de ENERGÍA POSITIVA ¡¡ ESCÚCHANOS de nuevo!! HOY JUEVES 16 de enero DE "ARTISTAS INDEPENDIENTES" tuvimos, desde Colombia, a nuestro amigo JESÚS NEIVA. Y en la aportación de la AudioRevista “e-RRAMIENTAS para tu Desarrollo Personal” tuvimos a nuestra amiga ELISUE HERNÁNDEZ desde MÉXICO. ¡TE RETO A QUE NOS PONGAS A PRUEBA! Chatea conmigo por WhatsApp https://bit.ly/ChateaConmigo2023 tu amigo, Locutor MarCo Ontiveros “Tu Coach de la Felicidad” ;) #MisEventosOnline #TuCoachDeLaFelicidad #TeAtrevesASerFeliz? #YoTeAyudo

Fecha: 08-01-2025 Título: JESÚS, CARPINTERO Autor: Roberto Badenas Locución: Elías Gómez http://evangelike.com/devocionales-cristianos-para-adultos/

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Sumario del programa DANIEL GARCÍA Un nuevo avance en computación cuántica, presentado hace pocos días, demuestra la existencia de los universos paralelos o eso afirman los creadores de esta revolucionaria tecnología. El todopoderoso Google ha presentado su nuevo chip cuántico, denominado Willow, capaz de realizar unos cálculos en menos de cinco minutos que los superordenadores más rápidos de la actualidad tardarían en completar varias veces el tiempo transcurrido desde el Big Bang hasta nuestros días. JOSÉ CARBONERAS José nos llevará a conocer el mundo de la medicina china tradicional para hablarnos de lo importante que puede ser la acupuntura para nuestro bienestar físico y mental. JUAN MIGUEL FERNÁNDEZ / MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS Juan Miguel Fernández y María Jesús Albertus nos hablaran de espíritus imperfectos, espíritus buenos y espíritus puros. Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Mateo 1:18-25 relata el nacimiento de Jesús y transmite varias ideas importantes desde el punto de vista teológico y espiritual: 1. El cumplimiento de la profecía 2. La concepción virginal 3. La obediencia de José 4. Jesús como Salvador 5. Dios con nosotros En conjunto, estos versículos presentan a Jesús como el Salvador prometido, nacido de manera milagrosa, y enfatizan la importancia de confiar en el plan divino. Banda sonora: Drop the Tapes - Biblioteca de audio de YouTube Donaciones local: https://iglesiadeciudadreal.es/donaciones Web: http://iglesiadeciudadreal.es/ Podcast: http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-iglesia-. YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCPq8l9Q7KcX7j6iOGDPP_zg x (antes Twitter): https://x.com/home?lang=es Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/IglesiaCristianaEvangelicaDeCiudadReal Nota informativa: En todos nuestros videos se pueden traducir los SUBTÍTULOS a cualquier idioma. Ir a configuración y elegir idioma de subtitulo. 22/12/2024 - PREDICACIÓN DE LA MAÑANA - SERIE:NAVIDAD Mateo 1:18-25 - Reina-Valera 1960 Nacimiento de Jesucristo (Lc. 2.1-7) 18 El nacimiento de Jesucristo fue así: Estando desposada María su madre con José, antes que se juntasen, se halló que había concebido del Espíritu Santo. 19 José su marido, como era justo, y no quería infamarla, quiso dejarla secretamente. 20 Y pensando él en esto, he aquí un ángel del Señor le apareció en sueños y le dijo: José, hijo de David, no temas recibir a María tu mujer, porque lo que en ella es engendrado, del Espíritu Santo es. 21 Y dará a luz un hijo, y llamarás su nombre JESÚS,[a] porque él salvará a su pueblo de sus pecados. 22 Todo esto aconteció para que se cumpliese lo dicho por el Señor por medio del profeta, cuando dijo: 23 He aquí, una virgen concebirá y dará a luz un hijo, Y llamarás su nombre Emanuel, que traducido es: Dios con nosotros. 24 Y despertando José del sueño, hizo como el ángel del Señor le había mandado, y recibió a su mujer. 25 Pero no la conoció hasta que dio a luz a su hijo primogénito; y le puso por nombre JESÚS.

Fecha: 19-12-2024 Título: JESÚS Y MARÍA Autor: Thomas R. Shepherd Locución: Cristina Rosas http://evangelike.com/estudios-biblicos-para-adultos/

Fecha: 09-12-2024 Título: JESÚS Y EL PADRE Autor: Thomas R. Shepherd Locución: Cristina Rosas http://evangelike.com/estudios-biblicos-para-adultos/

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Hoy hablamos con: MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS *La reencarnación según la filosofía espírita. Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Sumario del programa ALBA LOBERA Con Alba haremos un viaje a la teoría de los visitantes que vinieron de fuera de nuestro planeta y la supuesta influencia que tuvieron en la evolución del ser humano. Con Alba hablaremos de la hipótesis de un lugar perdido en el cual se afirma que estaban afincados seres terrestres con una increíble evolución tecnológica. Con Alba hablaremos de la ciudad de los antiguos astronautas. CARLOS ALBERTO IURCHUK Carlos nos hablará de la experiencia ufológica que tuvo un militar argentino; una experiencia que pudo ser registrada en una fotografía. Carlos no contará la historia de la fotografía ufo del militar argentino. JUAN MIGUEL FERNÁNDEZ - MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS Los representantes de la Asociación de Estudios Espíritas de Madrid nos hablarán de las evidencias que confirman la existencia de vida después de la muerte física en este plano de existencia. Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Fecha: 21-10-2024 Título: JESÚS ORO POR NUESTRA UNIDAD Autor: Roberto Herrera Locución: Elías Gómez http://evangelike.com/devocionales-cristianos-para-adultos/

Fecha: 17-10-2024 Título: JESÚS MIRA EL CORAZÓN Autor: Vicki Redden, Dee Litten Reed, Joelle Reed Yamada Locución: La tía Tania http://evangelike.com/devocionales-cristianos-para-menores/

Fecha: 02-10-2024 Título: JESÚS TE QUIERE MUCHO Autor: Vicki Redden, Dee Litten Reed, Joelle Reed Yamada Locución: La tía Fabi http://evangelike.com/devocionales-cristianos-para-menores/

Devocional Cristiano para Menores - UN PLANETA MARAVILLOSO Fecha: 23-08-2024 Título: JESÚS TE PROTEGE Autor: Vicki Redden, Dee Litten Reed, Joelle Reed Yamada Locución: La tía Fabi http://evangelike.com/devocionales-cristianos-para-menores/

Estudio Bíblico Diario para Adultos - EL GRAN CONFLICTO Fecha: 19-08-2024 Título: JESÚS Y LOS NIÑOS Autor: Mark Finley Locución: Cristina Rosas http://evangelike.com/estudios-biblicos-para-adultos/

Devocional Cristiano para Adultos - ASÍ ES DIOS Fecha: 21-07-2024 Título: JESÚS ES EL SACRIFICIO Autor: Roberto Herrera Locución: Elías Gómez http://evangelike.com/devocionales-cristianos-para-adultos/

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Sumario del programa ALBA LOBERA Desde que fue descubierta a principios del siglo XVII, la Antártida ha despertado desde siempre la curiosidad de aventureros e investigadores. Conocido como 'el sexto continente', cuenta con el promedio de humedad más alto y la temperatura más baja de la Tierra. Dicen que desde la Antártida llega una valiosa información sobre los efectos que el supuesto calentamiento global puede provocar en la Tierra y uno de los mayores misterios aún sin resolver de la Antártida es el de los inicios de su formación. Otro grupo de enigmas sin descifrar lo forman la cantidad de organismos -la mayoría microscópicos- que han podido desarrollarse en un ecosistema tan extremo que alcanza unas temperaturas que pueden llegar a superar los 80 grados bajo cero en algunas zonas. Asimismo, descubrimientos como estructuras rocosas con forma piramidal incentivan las hipótesis más curiosas acera de que antes de la glaciación -o incluso durante su proceso- la superficie menos helada de la Antártida albergaba numerosos tipo de vida desarrollada y ¿por qué no? La presencia de vida humana. LUIS MERINO Luis nos llevará a recorrer otra de esas misteriosas rutas inglesas repleta de fenómenos anómalos y fantasmales. Luis nos hará el recorrido conocido como el camino inglés de los fantasmas. JUAN MIGUEL FERNÁDEZ Y MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS Juan miguel y María Jesús hoy nos hablarán de los distintos medios que los espíritus tienen para poder contactar con nosotros. ISRAEL GRASES Israel nos contará los 10 niveles del poder que domina el Mundo. Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Devocional Cristiano para Adultos - ASÍ ES DIOS Fecha: 26-06-2024 Título: JESÚS NUESTRO ÚNICO CAMINO A LA LIBERTAD Autor: Roberto Herrera Locución: Elías Gómez http://evangelike.com/devocionales-cristianos-para-adultos/

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Sumario del programa LUIS MERINO Con Luis haremos un recorrido por uno de los lugares que más misterios tiene de toda Inglaterra. Luis nos hará un tour en busca de misterios, fantasmas y vampiros del condado de Gloucestershire. ÁNGEL BEITIA Esta noche seguiremos el camino mundo del misterio con Ángel Beitia quien nos llevara a conocer esa Valencia misteriosa llena de duendes, fantasmas y vampiros tan desconocida para el resto de los mortales. JUAN MIGUEL FERNÁNDEZ / MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS Miguel Fernández y María Jesús Albertus hoy nos hablarán de los distintos mundos que existen y por los cuales todos hemos de pasar en alguna de nuestras reencarnaciones. IVÁN CAMPOS Iván no contará la historia de un escritor de terror que fue abducido por unos extraterrestres. Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Estudio Bíblico Diario para Adultos - EL GRAN CONFLICTO Fecha: 23-05-2024 Título: JESÚS NUESTRO ABOGADO EN EL JUCIO Autor: Mark Finley Locución: Cristina Rosas http://evangelike.com/estudios-biblicos-para-adultos/

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Sumario del programa DANIEL GARCÍA A todos nos parece claro que una guerra nuclear masiva significaría literalmente el fin de la civilización y posiblemente la extinción de la humanidad y de todos los seres vivos en el planeta. Daniel nos planteará la posibilidad que se baraja, desde la guerra Rusia Ucrania, de una futura e inminente guerra mundial. JUAN MIGUEL FERNÁNDEZ / MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS Juan Miguel Y María Jesús intentarán dar razonamiento a las eternas preguntas que todos alguna vez nos hemos hecho, ¿quién soy y qué estoy haciendo aquí? GABRIEL WÜLDENMAR ORTIZ Desde hace siglos, los humanos hemos contemplado las galaxias y hemos tratado de asomarnos a su interior para intentar comprender, entre otras muchas cosas, nuestro propio origen y el sentido de nuestra existencia. Con Gabriel, hoy, trataremos el tema del misterioso escenario cósmico. RAFAEL PÉREZ RINCÓN El profesor de historia Rafael Pérez Rincón nos hablará de la operación “Carne Picada”: un plan británico, ejecutado durante la Segunda Guerra Mundial, para convencer al alto mando alemán de que los Aliados iban a invadir Grecia en lugar de Sicilia. Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Por FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/Nemesis-Radio-1550831935166728/ Podcast de NEMESIS RADIO: http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-podcast-nemesis-radio_sq_f1133446_1.html CANAL MISTERIOS DE IVOOX: https://www.ivoox.com/escuchar-canal-misterios-ivoox_nq_2594_1.html Canal misterios de Ivoox: https://www.facebook.com/canalmisteriosdeIvoox/ YOU TUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7PD6Knea7eWw88rLp0vR0w E-MAIL: nemesisradiomurcia@gmail.com Por Internet a través de nuestras webs: frecuenciamurcia.es -Comenzaremos con HISTORIAS, CUENTOS Y LEYENDAS, donde nuestro querido amigo JESÚS GARCÍA, Periodista de Canal Sur Radio y responsable de comunicación de la Asociación Esotérica Española, quien nos hablará de “Grimorios” -En nuestra sección de CRÍMENES, nuestra compañera Mercedes García Velasco, nos hablará de "Los crímenes de Josep Talleda Andreu” -De la mano de nuestro compañero el historiador Pedro Rubio, escucharemos algunas Efemérides de un día como hoy, 13 de abril. -Y terminaremos con nuestro DEBATE, con nuestros contertulios debatiremos sobre un interesante tema, “Voyager, viajando hacia otros mundos” Y para eso, para intentar darnos un poco de luz sobre este tema, tenemos con nosotros a nuestros colaboradores y amigos, José Ramón Sánchez, Paco Torres y un servidor. “El camino es largo y está a punto de comenzar… Compinches de la noche, poneos cómodos, agudizad las orejas que empezamos…” (NEMESIS RADIO NO SE HACE RESPONSABLE DE LOS COMENTARIOS DE LOS CONTERTULIOS E INVITADOS QUE PARTICIPAN EN DICHO PROGRAMA) DIRIGEN Y PRESENTAN ANTONIO PÉREZ Y JOSÉ ANTº MARTÍNEZ

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Sumario del programa JUAN MIGUEL MARSELLA CRISÓSTOMO Juan Miguel nos habla hoy de un tipo de ángel asignado para proteger, guardar y guiar a una persona, grupo o nación durante su existencia en la tierra. Juan Miguel nos habla hoy del Santo Ángel de la guardia. DANIEL GARCÍA - CARLOS ALBAREDA Con Daniel y Carlos charlamos sobre una idea que pulula por los ámbitos científicos, según la cual los humanos algún día serán superados por máquinas de inteligencia artificial. Con Daniel y Carlos charlamos sobre inminente llegada de la singularidad tecnológica. JUAN MIGUEL FERNÁNDEZ - MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS Juan Miguel Fernández y María Jesús Albertus nos hablan en este programa de los mensajes del Más Allá. Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Web: http://iglesiadeciudadreal.es/ Podcast:http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-iglesia-. Donaciones local: https://iglesiadeciudadreal.es/donaciones YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCPq8l9Q7KcX7j6iOGDPP_zg 28/01/2024 - PREDICACIÓN DE LA TARDE - SERIE: LUCAS Lucas 1:26-38 - Reina-Valera 1960 Anuncio del nacimiento de Jesús 26 Al sexto mes el ángel Gabriel fue enviado por Dios a una ciudad de Galilea, llamada Nazaret, 27 a una virgen desposada con un varón que se llamaba José, de la casa de David; y el nombre de la virgen era María. 28 Y entrando el ángel en donde ella estaba, dijo: ¡Salve, muy favorecida! El Señor es contigo; bendita tú entre las mujeres. 29 Mas ella, cuando le vio, se turbó por sus palabras, y pensaba qué salutación sería esta. 30 Entonces el ángel le dijo: María, no temas, porque has hallado gracia delante de Dios. 31 Y ahora, concebirás en tu vientre, y darás a luz un hijo, y llamarás su nombre JESÚS. 32 Este será grande, y será llamado Hijo del Altísimo; y el Señor Dios le dará el trono de David su padre; 33 y reinará sobre la casa de Jacob para siempre, y su reino no tendrá fin. 34 Entonces María dijo al ángel: ¿Cómo será esto? pues no conozco varón. 35 Respondiendo el ángel, le dijo: El Espíritu Santo vendrá sobre ti, y el poder del Altísimo te cubrirá con su sombra; por lo cual también el Santo Ser que nacerá, será llamado Hijo de Dios. 36 Y he aquí tu parienta Elisabet, ella también ha concebido hijo en su vejez; y este es el sexto mes para ella, la que llamaban estéril; 37 porque nada hay imposible para Dios. 38 Entonces María dijo: He aquí la sierva del Señor; hágase conmigo conforme a tu palabra. Y el ángel se fue de su presencia.

Web: http://iglesiadeciudadreal.es/ Podcast:http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-iglesia-. Donaciones local: https://iglesiadeciudadreal.es/donaciones YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCPq8l9Q7KcX7j6iOGDPP_zg 25/02/2024 - PREDICACIÓN DE LA TARDE - SERIE: LUCAS Lucas 2:1-22 - Reina-Valera 1960 Nacimiento de Jesús (Mt. 1.18-25) 2 Aconteció en aquellos días, que se promulgó un edicto de parte de Augusto César, que todo el mundo fuese empadronado. 2 Este primer censo se hizo siendo Cirenio gobernador de Siria. 3 E iban todos para ser empadronados, cada uno a su ciudad. 4 Y José subió de Galilea, de la ciudad de Nazaret, a Judea, a la ciudad de David, que se llama Belén, por cuanto era de la casa y familia de David; 5 para ser empadronado con María su mujer, desposada con él, la cual estaba encinta. 6 Y aconteció que estando ellos allí, se cumplieron los días de su alumbramiento. 7 Y dio a luz a su hijo primogénito, y lo envolvió en pañales, y lo acostó en un pesebre, porque no había lugar para ellos en el mesón. Los ángeles y los pastores 8 Había pastores en la misma región, que velaban y guardaban las vigilias de la noche sobre su rebaño. 9 Y he aquí, se les presentó un ángel del Señor, y la gloria del Señor los rodeó de resplandor; y tuvieron gran temor. 10 Pero el ángel les dijo: No temáis; porque he aquí os doy nuevas de gran gozo, que será para todo el pueblo: 11 que os ha nacido hoy, en la ciudad de David, un Salvador, que es CRISTO el Señor. 12 Esto os servirá de señal: Hallaréis al niño envuelto en pañales, acostado en un pesebre. 13 Y repentinamente apareció con el ángel una multitud de las huestes celestiales, que alababan a Dios, y decían: 14 ¡Gloria a Dios en las alturas, Y en la tierra paz, buena voluntad para con los hombres! 15 Sucedió que cuando los ángeles se fueron de ellos al cielo, los pastores se dijeron unos a otros: Pasemos, pues, hasta Belén, y veamos esto que ha sucedido, y que el Señor nos ha manifestado. 16 Vinieron, pues, apresuradamente, y hallaron a María y a José, y al niño acostado en el pesebre. 17 Y al verlo, dieron a conocer lo que se les había dicho acerca del niño. 18 Y todos los que oyeron, se maravillaron de lo que los pastores les decían. 19 Pero María guardaba todas estas cosas, meditándolas en su corazón. 20 Y volvieron los pastores glorificando y alabando a Dios por todas las cosas que habían oído y visto, como se les había dicho. Presentación de Jesús en el templo 21 Cumplidos los ocho días para circuncidar al niño, le pusieron por nombre JESÚS, el cual le había sido puesto por el ángel antes que fuese concebido. 22 Y cuando se cumplieron los días de la purificación de ellos, conforme a la ley de Moisés, le trajeron a Jerusalén para presentarle al Señor

Web: http://iglesiadeciudadreal.es/ Podcast:http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-iglesia-. Donaciones local: https://iglesiadeciudadreal.es/donaciones YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCPq8l9Q7KcX7j6iOGDPP_zg 03/03/2024 - PREDICACIÓN DE LA TARDE - SERIE: LUCAS Lucas 2:21-38 - Reina-Valera 1960 Presentación de Jesús en el templo 21 Cumplidos los ocho días para circuncidar al niño, le pusieron por nombre JESÚS, el cual le había sido puesto por el ángel antes que fuese concebido. 22 Y cuando se cumplieron los días de la purificación de ellos, conforme a la ley de Moisés, le trajeron a Jerusalén para presentarle al Señor 23 (como está escrito en la ley del Señor: Todo varón que abriere la matriz será llamado santo al Señor), 24 y para ofrecer conforme a lo que se dice en la ley del Señor: Un par de tórtolas, o dos palominos. 25 Y he aquí había en Jerusalén un hombre llamado Simeón, y este hombre, justo y piadoso, esperaba la consolación de Israel; y el Espíritu Santo estaba sobre él. 26 Y le había sido revelado por el Espíritu Santo, que no vería la muerte antes que viese al Ungido del Señor. 27 Y movido por el Espíritu, vino al templo. Y cuando los padres del niño Jesús lo trajeron al templo, para hacer por él conforme al rito de la ley, 28 él le tomó en sus brazos, y bendijo a Dios, diciendo: 29 Ahora, Señor, despides a tu siervo en paz, Conforme a tu palabra; 30 Porque han visto mis ojos tu salvación, 31 La cual has preparado en presencia de todos los pueblos; 32 Luz para revelación a los gentiles, Y gloria de tu pueblo Israel. 33 Y José y su madre estaban maravillados de todo lo que se decía de él. 34 Y los bendijo Simeón, y dijo a su madre María: He aquí, este está puesto para caída y para levantamiento de muchos en Israel, y para señal que será contradicha 35 (y una espada traspasará tu misma alma), para que sean revelados los pensamientos de muchos corazones. 36 Estaba también allí Ana, profetisa, hija de Fanuel, de la tribu de Aser, de edad muy avanzada, pues había vivido con su marido siete años desde su virginidad, 37 y era viuda hacía ochenta y cuatro años; y no se apartaba del templo, sirviendo de noche y de día con ayunos y oraciones. 38 Esta, presentándose en la misma hora, daba gracias a Dios, y hablaba del niño a todos los que esperaban la redención en Jerusalén.

Por FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/Nemesis-Radio-1550831935166728/ Podcast de NEMESIS RADIO: http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-podcast-nemesis-radio_sq_f1133446_1.html CANAL MISTERIOS DE IVOOX: https://www.ivoox.com/escuchar-canal-misterios-ivoox_nq_2594_1.html Canal misterios de Ivoox: https://www.facebook.com/canalmisteriosdeIvoox/ YOU TUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7PD6Knea7eWw88rLp0vR0w E-MAIL: nemesisradiomurcia@gmail.com Por Internet a través de nuestras webs: frecuenciamurcia.es -Comenzamos la noche con un buen amigo del programa JESÚS PACHECO, con él hablaremos de “Historias y Leyendas de la Madina Mursiya” -De la mano de nuestro compañero el historiador Pedro Rubio, escucharemos algunas Efemérides de un día como hoy, 9 de marzo. -Y terminaremos con nuestro DEBATE, con nuestros contertulios debatiremos sobre un interesante y controvertido tema, “Contratiempos de una acuciante realidad, el cambio climático” Y para eso, para intentar darnos un poco de luz sobre este tema, tenemos con nosotros a nuestros colaboradores y amigos Israel Capel, Francisco Agudo y Paco Torres. “El camino es largo y está a punto de comenzar… Compinches de la noche, poneos cómodos, agudizad las orejas que empezamos…” (NEMESIS RADIO NO SE HACE RESPONSABLE DE LOS COMENTARIOS DE LOS CONTERTULIOS E INVITADOS QUE PARTICIPAN EN DICHO PROGRAMA) DIRIGEN Y PRESENTAN ANTONIO PÉREZ Y JOSÉ ANTº MARTÍNEZ

MARZO: MES DE LA MUJER ¿¿ TE PERDISTE NUESTRO PROGRAMA No. 2,516 ?? Llénate nuevamente de ENERGÍA POSITIVA ¡¡ ESCÚCHANOS de nuevo!! HOY JUEVES 07 de marzo DE "ARTISTAS INDEPENDIENTES" tuvimos, desde Colombia, a nuestro amigo JESÚS NEIRA. Y en la aportación de la AudioRevista “e-RRAMIENTAS para tu Desarrollo Personal” tuvimos a nuestra amiga MARÍA RAMÍREZ desde USA. ¡TE RETO A QUE NOS PONGAS A PRUEBA! Chatea conmigo por WhatsApp https://bit.ly/ChateaConmigo2023 tu amigo, Locutor MarCo Ontiveros “Tu Coach de la Felicidad” ;) #MisEventosOnline #TuCoachDeLaFelicidad #TeAtrevesASerFeliz? #YoTeAyudo

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Sumario del programa ALBA LOBERA Alba nos hablará de que cada año en Japón, alrededor de 90.000 personas son reportadas como desaparecidas. La mayoría de ellos son encontrados o regresan a casa, pero otros muchos miles simplemente desaparecen y no son hallados nunca más. Alba nos hablará de los llamados evaporados de Japón. FERMÍN MAYORGA HUERTAS Fermín nos llevará a conocer la misteriosa realidad de un pueblo prerromano asentado en el sector central de la cuenca del Duero. Fermín nos contará la historia misteriosa del pueblo de los Vacceos. GABRIEL WÜLDENMAR ORTIZ Gabriel nos revelará esta noche la verdadera historia de las apariciones de Lourdes. JUAN MIGUEL FERNÁNDEZ - MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS Juan Miguel Fernández y María Jesús Albertus nos hablarán de los distintos mundos espirituales. Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Sumario del programa FERMÍN MAYORGA HUERTAS *Los niños esclavos en la historia. JUAN MIGUEL FERNÁNDEZ / MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS *Por qué no hay que tener miedo a la muerte. SOL AHIMSA *Cómo eres según la numerología. Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Por FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/Nemesis-Radio-1550831935166728/ Podcast de NEMESIS RADIO: http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-podcast-nemesis-radio_sq_f1133446_1.html CANAL MISTERIOS DE IVOOX: https://www.ivoox.com/escuchar-canal-misterios-ivoox_nq_2594_1.html Canal misterios de Ivoox: https://www.facebook.com/canalmisteriosdeIvoox/ YOU TUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7PD6Knea7eWw88rLp0vR0w E-MAIL: nemesisradiomurcia@gmail.com Por Internet a través de nuestras webs: frecuenciamurcia.es -Comenzamos con nuestra compañera, Ana Theysser, en “LA PUERTA OCULTA”, Nos hablara de “Los Fantasmas del Secreto” -En nuestra sección de CRÍMENES, nuestra compañera Mercedes García Velasco, nos contará la historia de, Andreu Coll: “El crimen de los 50 millones de euros” -De la mano de nuestro compañero el historiador Pedro Rubio, escucharemos algunas Efemérides de un día como hoy, 4 de noviembre. -En HISTORIAS, CUENTOS Y LEYENDAS, vamos a tener a nuestro querido amigo y compañero, JESÚS GARCÍA JIMÉNEZ, que nos hablará de “Los Enigmas de El Valle Otavalo” -Y terminaremos con nuestro DEBATE, con nuestros contertulios, debatiremos sobre un interesante tema que desde siempre crea mucha controversia, “Medicinas Alternativas. Homeopatía, Osteopatía, Piedras, Aceites Esenciales, etc., ante la Medicina oficial” “El camino es largo y está a punto de comenzar… Compinches de la noche, poneos cómodos, agudizad las orejas que empezamos…” (NEMESIS RADIO NO SE HACE RESPONSABLE DE LOS COMENTARIOS DE LOS CONTERTULIOS E INVITADOS QUE PARTICIPAN EN DICHO PROGRAMA) DIRIGEN Y PRESENTAN ANTONIO PÉREZ Y JOSÉ ANTº MARTÍNEZ

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Sumario del programa LUIS MERINO *Comunicación con los muertos. *Nigromancia. CARLOS ALBERTO IURCHUK *El extraño encuentro UFO a través de la pantalla. JUAN MIGUEL FERNÁNDEZ - MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS *¿Qué se hace en los centros espíritas? Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Devocional Cristiano para Adultos - YO ESTOY CONTIGO Fecha: 02-10-2023 Título: JESÚS VINO PARA SALVAR A PECADORES Autor: Vladimir Polanco Locución: Elías Gómez http://evangelike.com/devocionales-cristianos-para-adultos/

¡¡Suscríbete al canal del Podcast Oficial de La Vuelta!! 🎧 Presenta este programa ALBERTO MARCOS (@albermg). 💥 ¡¡JESÚS HERRADA!! Por fin llegó la primera victoria española en La Vuelta 2023. ¡Qué alegría! Y qué momentazo con el abrazo del ganador de hoy con su padre, lo registramos en el momento justo y hablamos con él. Analizamos desde la salida en Lerma y la llegada en la Laguna Negra lo que ha sido el día de hoy. 💪 ¡Únete a nuestro Fantasy de La Vuelta! https://fantasybytissot.lavuelta.es/#welcome/register/?parrain=im58i2z&ligue=1272 Contenidos: Intro: 0:00-2:01 Crónica y protagonistas y la historia del padre de JESÚS HERRADA: 2:01-15:41 Análisis desde el terreno: 15:41-22:12 Previa: 22:12-23:33 Cierre: 23:33-24:26

LUIS MERINO *El sexo en la edad media. CARLOS ALBERTO IURCHUK *Los marcianos peronistas. *Caso ufo Carlos Balvidares. JUAN MIGUEL FERNÁNDEZ - MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS *Las familias espirituales. Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Dillon Francis, I knew by now, was a very skilled sorcerer. I was fasting, and quickly shifting through times, realms, and dimensions as empty as ever as I knew myself to be; these days the shortest fasts seemed the longest—and by the look and feel of things, I was always still the biggest one in the room no matter where I went. ‘Let's see what this guy can do with half a moon.' If I had to go all the way to the dance floor to continue assessing my feelings for this man, it then had to be true that there were feelings at all—and there had to have been. Either way, I didn't care much; I wasn't expecting any outcome and at the very least and most simultaneously, I was there as a fan. I was, after all, as written, Dillon Francis's biggest fan—and though I didn't wear any apparel that made it obviously so, I sought to seek means to an end at some point for the saga I had written. I had hoped to potentially see Dillon's Kayla Lauren in the wings, as I thought surely for there to be one; it would be odd for any man, especially one that traveled as much as he did, to have two dogs of his own. Again, it didn't seem to matter, as I kept it in the forefront of my mind always that a man like Dillon Francis could have anyone he wanted in the world, most certainly anyone in the audience, If a world renowned DJ were ever to do such a thing as to sink as low as to converse with a peasant, such as I; at the very least, I would record, as always, Shazam, as always, and music mine as much as I possibly could, seeing as I wasn't there to dance or to drink at all, but simply just to observe; my soul acted in certain ways in this environment, and I wanted to know why, or what it was exactly that made it do so, quite unforgivingly. Still, there was magic in the air; and whether it was his, or mine, or neither I neither cared to know nor did, but knew it to be—there was just nothing to to do but submit, as I had learned; and rightfully so, as I was coming to him, it allowed him to assert his dominance, which I liked and needed anyhow, in any event. Allowing any potential anyone to become the master was a given; and though not yet at my beauty's peak of perfection, my sexuality was peaking enough for me to explore my innate attraction to him, as I allowed it. I wanted to be controlled, and so although it felt forced and always ridden with guilt, whatever had happened with Sonny had sent me through an infinite loop and then put Kayla Lauren on display at the worst possible time; and though rarely missing a gym day since, I credited my own perseverance for it rather than her sheer luck at the genetic lottery. I would never be a little white girl, and though at my worst they acted as kryptonite to my super powers, whatever they were—I still had whatever it was they didn't, and perhaps not the affluent white man's proper ideal, still something and someone at best, maybe. I hoped to see a girl he might belong to at the show; but then wondered of course who might stay with the dogs. Are you serious? Either way, I was going to write, and record, and align with whatever my purpose was—as regardless of how, it seemed to have something to do with Dillon Francis. I was fasting, of course, but it hadn't been long; I had fulfilled what would be my calorie deficit with a box of plant based Oreos just the night before departing LA full of grief, stress, and chocolate,'for whatever reason; I would have a vegan doughnut at pink box, I decided, before I left Vegas—maybe to make up for the one I had lost in the wind from the oncoming train just days before—I called it God's work, as nothing else could be so comical and devastating at the same time—but was also still craving a doughnut and, still fitting I to everything I owed that I had purchased in an extra small, very comfortably, thought to be allowed one, at one time or another. It didn't matter to me; the white women of the world were made to steal anything I wanted or needed; especially a Sonny or a Dillon Francis, but at the very least I could ease my grief with sweets and work off the stress whenever I was blessed enough to hold gym memberships. I didn't care much, but needed the processing speed of a wired brain and empty stomach to be able to compute whatever might be meant for me to grasp in the matrix; after all, I had once thought of Dillon Francis to be a computer-program himself; the most nonplahable character yet, but still a record breaking synchronicity or rather large group of them, now, in my book. .Red Hot Chili Peppers - These Are The Ways I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophies Maybe it's everything Love is But fucking What? God, I'm lucky; I ought to be I run a Fortune 500 Maybe it's nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophes (Don't forget the apostrophe, Since you'll be forging for me) I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing I should be parking my car in the lobby for washing Don't mind me, It's just natural distrust All turns to dust, And all comes from nothing God, I'm lucky I should be working on something (I should be resting on Sundays, the lord says) But take my time word for it, I'm the one writing it Monday Thru Sunday I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing ‘Just remember, that every girl you see that makes you sad, is the kind of girl he gets—and that's the reason for it.' , I thought to myself. As long as I remembered Instagram models and actresses existed, I couldn't continue to be hurt by it, but I was still, somehow even after 30 years, getting used to being the ugly fat black girl—and since I wasn't Lizzo or Megan The Stallion, I really wasn't anyboth; there was still no place for me at all in the world I wanted to belong to, and I was still as I represented as I would ever be. Maybe tonight I would use my two drink tickets; a sure recipe for disaster, as I had at least almost made it to the 48 hour mark fasting, If I was counting correctly. Perhaps a vegan doughnut could soak up the liquor and shame after leaving the encore at 3 am with nothing but a handful of words and some samples, and perhaps a podcast episode if there could be one. Dua Lipa, Hallucinate What happens after The Daisy swallows Dillon Francis?! Dillon HART Francis. That's a funny name! He's a funny guy. Sometimes. Sometimes. What was I to do? I just kept writing and had nowhere to send it; there was no pitch, there was no plot, and there was certainly no point. Enter The Multiverse and The Festival Project as a whole made up for everything I could have potentially been worth—which was nothing— and I hadn't a clue at all what I was purposed for; I seemed almost psychically robotic, remembering things as they happened within seconds, only enough to slightly offset a rebuttal that at any rate seemed scripted, but wasn't—at least yet. It seemed as if I was in a movie, but to any such ohaycologist of course this could have been considered mania, psychosis, or delusions of grandeur—or even— Dillusions of Granduer. I was funny too, sometimes. I didn't have to think Dillon Francis was shallow—I knew he was shallow, just as such with Sonny or any other man worth his salt, whatever that actually meant. But, just as I had harshly learned anything else, I was starting to understand why, as the smaller and more agile I became, the more I could do with my own body, and as such began to understand why men preferred slim and petite women. I was settling in well to my non-bianary status, and my celibacy—I could do more on my own or with myself than with any partner to date, and with the only human of interest being himself well over 300 pounds, I opted to keep to myself and simply observe human nature for the time being, rather than to take part in it. I wasn't eating, but for the first time in days I had slept, and pushing anything from the future or past far from my mind, I opted to remain present, and aloof; it wouldn't mean much to try to care at all about anything—the more I cared, the more the universe would subtract from my contentedness. Hear Me Now, Nicky Romero “If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.” —William Blake As if this isn't the greatest story ever told. I'm pretty sure that's The Passion of The Christ. This is The Passion Of The Christ. That's just blasphemous. It's The Passion of— Go on. I mean, it is infinite. Well, first there was infinite— —everything— —Everything. Now what. Oh, I know. What is it? It's The Passion of Dillon Francis. Why is that? Because, they're going to kill him. Why? Dillon Francis isn't in the Illuminati! Think twice before going there. But I've got a one track mind. A one track mind In a multitrack world Is a square peg to a round hole And a half-heart To a whole world And nothing's left but to give But to give is to get Just live, Try to forget that it's Infinite What's for dinner dear? I met you here, at the crossroads Like I said I would; And you said you wouldn't come, But here you are: A phenomenon Pardon my awful camaraderie Oh! I forgot all my manners Beg your hard on for hours, Till wilted, like later my flowers Oh, the debachery —better off watching your crotch, Than up on the cross, Like last that I saw you— Stop Look, I just want to watch; I just want to wash all the blood off my hands, From the Hog I put on the bonfire (Forgot what it's called in Oahu) Who are you? I died in a fire, you know In your eyes, Despite how I tried to avoid them They light up at night, sometimes No Divine or desire I'm just here to top off my tires, I'm tired, you know —better off watching, I'm novice Another day at the office, A shot gun in place of deposits, collateral Oh, I'm the asshole— I'm actually quite proud of it This is called something of consciousness, Writing a canon, But I'm quite forgetful; A madman, if you can imagine (Disasterous) Now you attack at your best, I'm un-vested Invested my time in unrest, Don't forget I'm just under your bed We mustn't forget how it started Intensive care Must be intense in the moment When you're Dillon Francis Ah yes. Leave A Trace, CHRCHES Tell me again how you're different; I exist just to wash dishes and watch DJs— I'm lazy; A patronage made just to let the white bitches forget all their privelege; In fact, it's a gift In fact, they're chosen— In fact, I'm just “Isn't” It's miserable Everyone Talks, Neon Trees | Three Pound Chicken Wing, deadmau5 | Paradise, Laidback Luke feat. Bright Lights Let me explain, How it's a vibration; I don't care what body you're in— It's all the same love, If it's all the same love, Then I love you I love you I love you, But I'm in a body It's torturous Let me explain how It's a vibration New word: It's Sapiosexual; Oh, I forgot how you Maddened me once, with your syntax and grammar Ah, now I'm sad as Hell ‘Might as well end it”, I thought to myself If looked as disheveled as I felt They would have stopped me from entering Even at ‘Envy' Let me explain, How I'm the villain This just happens over and over To poor Skrillex And Dillon Francis So much fame and fortune It turns into torture The girls on the rail A pecking order; Ready to devour, And be devoured by The man of the hour “ I might as well end it, then” I said. (But just for attention, I'm stuck in this body, Just rotting Cause nobody wants me at this damn party I've had enough of it I need some water and Probably a therapist Oh, ‘Stream of consciousness' There, I remembered it. Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) Uh huh, I'm no fun at parties [Three knocks on the door] I ignore it (This part is important) [three more knocks] Ought to be something, But still, I assume that it's nothing No guts, and no glory Nobody to love me Uh huh I'm no fun at parties Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) No wonder I used to cut myself “I can feel something” I once sung Now I just run; But— I'm still not small enough For somebody to want me I like to eat every now and again But— I guess that's my problem I just want someone to want me That doesn't remind me of Something i'm not But instead as in awe of my body As I am of Anything other than Tragedy Walk like an Egyptian, The Bangles I excused myself for the lackluster workout—after all, it had been days since my last real meal, and three now since my last solid anything; I had been happy with coconut water and alkaline, trying not to stay too far from the petite I was aiming for.; the plaid dress was a perfect match for the boots I had picked out, astonished that with the nearly 300-lb weight loss, my feet had also happened to shrink down a size and a half—I was dressed to impress, but prepared to be humiliated, and to top that—very eager to Google how long it would take me to get from XS, to Pink Box doughnuts—which was open 24 hours. At least I didn't exactly look like a prostitute—and, as an added bonus, might even could keep the dress for work or interviews; the boots walked nicely, at least for now, and I didn't mind the modesty, as I was already as out of place and forgotten as could be. Rather than opting for a coconut water, I stayed empty; not much was needed to do what I intended, which was almost nothing, and I hoped at the very least my senses and delicate nerves would be somehow put at ease. My iPhone microphone was sensitive enough to catch a song from a car waiting for the light halfway across the street— Freddie's Dead, Curtis Mayfield I crossed at the walk and kept my eyes to the ground, steadying my gait I into an awkward trot as not to appear to confident. I was right on time at the bus stop, and, within moments, not to my suprise, the 103 passed by me, even as I leaned against the stop waving my phone wirh the screen lit. “What a dick.” Perhaps I had fasted too long and worked out too hard; I had indeed left my clothes in a heap of heavy and drenched conglomerate of sweat and tears. I did have a headache, and didn't care much to return yet to my dwelling—in fact, there was something calling me out, and so out I went. Summoning a surprisingly inexpensive Über, I trotted begrudgingly to the WinCo behind me for a Pressed Coconjr Water—the world seemed to dysfunction a little too autonomously when I was running on empty, and with less stored fat supply than before, any triggered ketosis often resulted in a heavy cloud of thoughtless disability; I fumbled around clumsily, breathing shallow in the overstimulation of everything and everyone's aura—but that was exactly what I needed to see: Dillon had always glowed in brilliant shades of purple, but at one time, white—which startled me, especially because it was rare for anyone to glow that way. 120 calories of Coconut water wouldn't quite offset the caloric deficits Raul picked me up in a brand new Tesla, of course—which didn't feel like a coincidence, as nothing did; I had just earlier in the day been thinking of Lim Manuel Miranda, whose face was earned on the cover of a magazine as I purchased my coconut wate; I snapped a picture and hurried along to my whatever it was—instead of spending the next two hours on the bus, I'd get to collect the music from the warmup DJ, and since it was his job I wanted to aquire, it was probably in good taste and good fortune to support anyone whose name I didn't already know. As I arrived to the encore, my eyes were blurred and I was still a little woozy, but the headache was gone and replaced with an all-out bad attitude that didn't exactl come from out of nowhere. As easily distracted as I was, and out of place, I was surprisingly quick to lose self awareness; as I stopped to take a portrait for the festival project, security approached, assuming I was as trashed as anybody else hunched over the trash can—I explained I was working on an art project, and she seemed refreshed—I hadn't realized that how it looked wasn't at all out of the ordinary, remembering where I was, and suddenly, remembering where I was, I remembered the first time I was here, which had inspired the poem Red Velvet, which was lost to time and buried in the rubble of my endlessly infinite Google documents I never received my drink tickets—probably for the best, as k had been tempted this time to actually use them. My life was in actual shambles, with no direction whatsoever—and here I was, on the guestlist at Dillon Francis of all places, with nearly no other place to be. Maybe if I was vigilant I would be front and center at the rail—placing me back in the fandom instead of fiending for a reason or purpose any of this had happened. I'm not mad You're a man And an animal Can't help yourself can you you? Don't be mad at me I'm just a fan And an animal I can't help my attraction I'm second to last, Wirh my hand on the rail And I'm not here to dance (But the music's fantastic) Well, Dillon's front row is always a sight for sore eyes. This is hilarious. I'm laughing on the inside. Just, have a little drink with me. WHY DOES THE DJ KEEP PLAYING SIMMERTIME SADNESS!!! ITS NOT EVEN SUMMER. #SELFIE The club scene had changed much since the days of Red Velvet, but not much, also—vanity had always been the norm, but now more was allowable; at least Fat girls were allowed on the Dance floor without bogarting our way in—but now, the whole of the masses needed photographic evidence of everything; I wasn't in the least interested in taking photos of myself, or anything really hit the discarded rmknce of what had been a night of drinking and shenanigans, whatever the outcome; I never knew, but typically lately had made a habit of throwing away the trash after taking the photos for my project; tonight thiugh, something new caught my eye, as the warm up and caught my ears and I Shazammed every song for the taking—.Recycling bins at the foot of the rails—where, by the way, I had been pushed to front and center, looking quite like someone's Grandmother in my spectacles and too- long- for- the-club-dress—but I was comfortable, hadn't been given any trouble at the door, and, for the time being, was actually next to someone's grandparents. b€NZ (feat syaquis) Front row lit Finna get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We finnafight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shake that bony ass Like we on skid row. Yas Go ahead. Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shame that bony ass Like we on skid row. Where we gonna go In the morning Go ahead. The DJ's pace was picking up, so I knew that it had to be toward the end of his set—would I even make it to close—or did I want to? There wasn't much to see, but there might be more to write. I looked around myself, empathy giving way; now I wasn't myself, or anyone in particular—just a bystander in the crowd, drunk off the placebo of experience ‘What if this was your life every night for the last 10 years?' Uhhhh. I Shazamed another tune— What if this is your life for the next 10 years? Oh Fuxk. I'm getting too old for this. Or… just old enough. The night was moving forward, and so people were drunker, and I probably wouldn't stay at the front row too long; but I was right in the place where the bass hit just right, so it felt good enough— but you couldn't see the DJ's hands. Just so you know, When I'm bored at a show— I take out my notebook Oh no, You're not bothering me; No thanks, I'm not really lonely, I'm just Writing a novel Or album Or movie Or something “Are you in the industry?” The tallish blonde girl next to me asked, progressively more drunk than when she first had appeared next to me at the rail—the front row was now predominately female, which I supposed to be typical—what a life. I just shook my head and continued as I was. For the most part unamused, and even a little bored, as I always was at a club show. I wasn't behind the decks, so I wasn't really anywhere at all. Maybe it was the bass, but I had suddenly stopped craving a doughnut, however by 4 am I was probably just about going to be ready for one; Or half dozen, cause— And with a flash of steam and sweat, the man of the hour appeared, but I found it hard to lift my head— I probably should step back from this front row… The energy in your front row is everything; at least to a DJ like me… Okay Gerald, I'll get you a table— you can't tell anyone you're a piñata. Okay ?' okay. GERALD has permanently shapeshifted into a Human being. (To a hot girl) I'M ACTUALLY A PIÑATA. (Drunken hot girl) WHAT? I'M A PIÑATA! WHAT?! GERALD, NO. WHAT? She's drunk! So?! i told you already—don't tell anyone you're using magic—-or I'm using magic— But—Dillon—magic is real! You said so! I know that!!! DFR, Dillon Francis God dammit, I almost forgot about this album. No you didnt. (Shapeshifting) (Spellcasting) (Other Magic shit) Yeah, but I forgot about the album. Yeah, I bet SAVAGE>< Freek In The Ghetto, Skrillex No. No. No. Oh fuck, where is Skrillex? Oh yeah, huh?! OH YEAH, huh. — What the everlivingFUCK. Oh shit. WHAT are you doing? Just playing a game. WHATDIDITELLYOU— Oh shit, she's mad— Run, dude— Run!! OH SHIT. I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU Well— Well. Well, well, well— Suddenly, it seemed everyone in the front row Was alt right- and as always, all the hot white girls moved into VIP—it was a tired game; I would always be black, and I would always be ugly, and so it hurt less than made me think twice or three times who I was dealing with. I just so happened to look over my shoulder and be somewhat attracted to the girl behind me. ‘'maybe it's time to start dating women' …but that would never work. GERALD. WHAT?! I thought I told you— I know, I know— GIMME ANOTHER SHOT. What, Dillon—! I thought you weren't DRINKING! Gerald! It's me! I know it's you. No! It's me! Ū! SUPACREE?! NO' SHH! I'm Ū!!! Where's / Dillon Francis?! WHERE IS SKRILLEX? He's in your heart. Oh shit. I gave that to Dillon Francis. Well, then, you have your answer. Fuxk. Let it happen. Tame Impala Man, I love that kid. I love that kid. So what happened? It's a long story. —NOT THE TIME MACHINE —NOT THE BOX GET IN THE TIME MACHINE! NOT THE BOX—!!!!! UGH, not Dillon Francis. (Yes, Dillon Francis.) What's his deal?! Who's what, him!!? YES. Satan. Hm. Whats your deal with Dillon Francis? What?! I don't have a deal with Dillon Francis… What?! YOU DONT!? NO! Why not? Cause! Being honest..? The devil, being honest: (Psh) I owe him money. What!! Satan, no way. Yes way! Hod that happen?' Lost a bet. Damn. This set is getting good. What are you watching? Gerald's world The legend of supacree Enter the multiverse The infinite Skrillifiles What? Uh oh. What ñ 5) 3 time space time continuums just shattered CONFETTI BLAST OH SHIT, it just shattered twice. We gotta go. Where we going To the planet Which—ducking planet. The one with the ducks. QUACK oh shit. A duck DUCK DUCK!! DUCK—DUCK—DUCK— Damn, this game really has gone on forever— ITS EDM O CLOCK, BITCH—! GET UP!! Mmm. We better go. Yes. We better go ALI and AVICII are very, very drunk in Heaven. THEY FINALLY MADE IT?! —of course we made it! —We knew the way! But of course: GOD No, go back. WHAT ARE YOU serious? MARTY! MARTY MCFLY! DAWG, it's good to see you! Wait. What the Fuxk dimension is THIS?' It's the one with Dillon Francis That's— a —FUCK. Dillon Francis is in a lot of dimensions. Yeah but this is the right one. How do you know? That was the theme song for the TV show. What TV show? Damn. I'm fucked up. What! I thought you didn't drink. I don't I'm an empath. MEANWHILE SUPACREE and SUNNÍ BLŪ have collided in a para-dimensional reality OH, SHIT, it's ME OH FUCK—DAMN. Now what do we do? Drugs? Drugs. Yeaaaaaaaah. One More Time, Daft Punk My son's favorite song. It was the second time it had played today, and the first time it wasn't nearly as bad as the second — now i was glad for the cloud of cold steam, I couldn't hide my upset as much as I wanted to ‘'Just keep writing' Okay. They're trying to kill me With white girls, And memories And it just might work I'm trying to write myself out the box Oh my god And it just my work I'm trying to get lost But I'm all out of sauce This is not gonna work I see you went and hopped on the band wagon Somebody get that dragon. /$3/ Huh That's how much I paid for this You—what?! I paid $3 You paid $3 Yes. For this. Yes. I'm gonna kill you. Ū VS DILLON FRANCIS Uh oh. Here it goes. FIGHT. Oh shit. I've been waiting all season for this. Here it goes. KO. SUPACREE WINS. What. It's over already? This isn't possible. GAME OVER. What the Fuxk. This is insane. No fucking way #%%]!! Wait. What the fuck I thought it was Ū VS Dillon Francisz YeH! It was. What the fuck. So how did SUPACREE win? Huh. Wait, did anybody ever find Skrillex? Oh, My God. Just then, someone threw a Red Bull and it hit my foot enough that it actually distracted me from writing— THROW ANOTHER ONE! No, dont! Why, what's wrong? I have to take back these boots in the morning. Oh good, Jesus made it. What Jesus who! JESÚS CHRIST! What? What do you want? I didn't think you'd come! I had to. I thought you were on vacation. Exactly. Listen, Dillon—I have to tell you something. Uh huh. This isn't going to be easy. Chak Chel, what is it? I need you to listen. Uh, I'm kinda busy. It was at this point— Really, this point—? I had to stop and asses for myself what was really happening. I was writing up a storm, and it did seem to happen automatically, as it had before. I'm a looper Open the coupe up, Stupid, Who did you think I is This is the business Go listen to Skrillex And KILL YOURSELF Huh? JUST KILL YOURSELF. Ah, okay—but not because you said so. Listen, I'm finna spit this quick while you spin it Spit in it: clitoris I'm different bitch After this dinner I'm still in the kitchen With dishes, bitch Till it glistens While I listen To excision (I'm just kidding) Dammit, this is a lot of Skrillex What exactly did you say about Dillon Francis not being in the Illuminati First of all, the Illuminati isn't real. SUPACREE How did you get famous? SUNNÍ BLŪ I'm in the Illuminati. You? SUPACREE I AM the Illuminati. SUNNÍ BLŪ NIce. [Cheers] Hey. Hey. Anybody seen Gerald? … … … Zzz. Damn. Nodding off On the clock I'm on the floor, And yo this shit is toxic Turn the knob a bit; My foot starting to throb again I'm looking hot like Somebody's mom again Damn. I'm getting off On the wrong kind of drama This isn't long at all But it's all wrong, ya'll I dont belong here Lost My Mind, Alison Wonderland OHH THIS SHIT BE HITTING DIFFERENT It did hit different. Someone either vomited or spilled the rest of their drink on me, which took me out of my moment: the music was telling a story, at least to me—and I didn't feel like feeling right then, but it was all I could do ñ. I was surprised that I was still standing at all, Ugh. I don't understand my feelings. This was deeper than it seemed, bigger than it — Ugh. What do you want from me? All I've got is applause, and a cough drop It's just another night at the office I'm somebody's mom In a long lost thought; All zeros on the clock In a tick tock, or two, when you're off And you're long gone, I'll still be wandering Stuck at the mall Till the bus comes —trying to write myself out the box I'm a lost soul I'm a club kid I'm a lost cause But i'll stay till the end, Cause last time I walked off And my thoughts wandered back to the dance floor All that I wanted is A penny for gods thoughts And now she keeps dropping them —and more often then not, She's dropping the knowledge That I'm in the wrong, For just wanting you: But what can I do; I just want to be like you, and less of a primate Something saw right through me, and I felt invisible—now a doughnut sounded good, and I hoped that they would have vegan this early in the morning. There was about a half hour left of the set, and I was tired; I would stay until the end of the set, for some reason—-but now — Oh shit. Remember that one time/— Which TIME One time, I lost my mind and drove off of a bridge. That did happen. That did happen. I had at one point been unwell, and so— ugh, that's it Some smelly kid squeezed his way in between me and the next person over,,probably on molly or something—meanwhile the young white supremacists club of America was codeswitching up a storm, me pretending not to notice, but— he was dancing a little too hard, hitting me a little too much—and clearly not giving any kind of fuck: it wouldn't be my first panic attack on the dance floor, but it probably would be my last; it was the same story over and over again— only the next generation had even less of a Fuxk than I ever did. I left the dance floor and opted to stand behind VIP — DID ANYONE EVER FIND SKRILLEX? Wrf. He died. WHAT. No seriously, I watched him die. Okay. Then what? Then he got up. That's a twist. Now I can't sleep. That sounds traumatic. It was traumatic. How long's it been? I HAVE NOT SLEPT IN ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND YEARS. Great, the vampires are here, too. Good. I've been craving Vegan blood. Ihj. What. It's better for you. God dammit, Dillon Francis Why does this always happen? I can't remember half of what I did Before I napped, and landed back in this dimension Now, I'll give you my attention for a minute— But I'm worried about Skrillex Didnt I mention i needed permission (Or just a perscription) To get this ignition I didn't even want to come to this I hate this club It's filled will memories You won't remember me For half another century Cause I can't finish writing I'm too busy riding The bus To work And crying all the time Cause therapy doesn't And I used to love this stuff, but UHH 1–2–3 : BUN UP THE DANCE This is a lot of Skrillex. Is he okay? Is Dillon Francis Okay!? They're both okay. They're both millionaires. They'll be fine. huayayay!!!!. Fuck this. Fuck this. Alright, I'm leaving. Are we eating? If it's vegan. Ah man. What just happened? I'm definitely in the Illuminati. I have a tendency To pretend that You're friends with me Speeded I get it's a Fantasy But I had to see you In the flesh I digress I picture you're just as Obsessed with me Guess I'd regret to suggest that You should have Sex with me Directly but it's nestled in my head In the red Would you get into bed with me After everything I said Or I wrote, and you read Or am I just Better off dead Youre so far ahead, And I get that it's Just a test At best but I've yet to digest Breakfast Caught in a web of Heaven or or empathy Trying to empty my envy For whoever's holding your hand Instead of me Please, Forgive me— But, If you're reading this, It's too late; All triple sixes and Tipping the sinners With witless intentions Wet at the back of the ears But I've known you for years And I said I'd be here; I remembered the dress If a grown man can be a romantic, Like I am This is the promised land No looking back-- "I have to have that" Back to reality; I see now, how a woman's like a hat Just a thing, An unneeded accessory, Like jewelry; To wear it, It must be a match Not just average, Accentuates or masks Whatever it is what you have, And you have so many that It doesn't matter. What is he after? He has everything Most likely just using me to bring these Creatures to life If he needs a wife, she's Probably staring back at me, Through the back of the camera; Fantastic beasts and fucking fansasies A fallacy A back handed chance at a handsome Has been; But he'll never been had like that, He has everything, But he could have more than that, He can have anything, And he has, he's Magic or something or Mad at me for taking so long but, I've been in the world of monsters, Reeling; Oh what a horrible feeling I'm dealing with being unappealing and Peeling potatoes, which Remind me of me, cause Kenny Powers middle name is White, Like Walter, I'm just trying to find The alter to sell away something inside, I'm dying; Or at least I'd like to I've Tried a dozen times I'd smile if I had the time-- Remind me, what it is again It isn't comprehensive, But I'm out of my element-- And the elephant in the room is named Skrillex, Or Dillon Francis, Or Timmy Trumpet, Or, Fuck It-- I'll probably never be the DJ that I wanna be Cause I'm awfully ugly, And no one wants to play with me But hey, Maybe it's just a mistake Its just no one speaks my language Comunication is limited I'm sitting in the back of the short bus Discussing this with my imaginary elephant, But that's irrelevant to the White rinocerous in front of the bus with trust issues bigger than the rest of us https://gofund.me/7d3da4e5 {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Dillon Francis, I knew by now, was a very skilled sorcerer. I was fasting, and quickly shifting through times, realms, and dimensions as empty as ever as I knew myself to be; these days the shortest fasts seemed the longest—and by the look and feel of things, I was always still the biggest one in the room no matter where I went. ‘Let's see what this guy can do with half a moon.' If I had to go all the way to the dance floor to continue assessing my feelings for this man, it then had to be true that there were feelings at all—and there had to have been. Either way, I didn't care much; I wasn't expecting any outcome and at the very least and most simultaneously, I was there as a fan. I was, after all, as written, Dillon Francis's biggest fan—and though I didn't wear any apparel that made it obviously so, I sought to seek means to an end at some point for the saga I had written. I had hoped to potentially see Dillon's Kayla Lauren in the wings, as I thought surely for there to be one; it would be odd for any man, especially one that traveled as much as he did, to have two dogs of his own. Again, it didn't seem to matter, as I kept it in the forefront of my mind always that a man like Dillon Francis could have anyone he wanted in the world, most certainly anyone in the audience, If a world renowned DJ were ever to do such a thing as to sink as low as to converse with a peasant, such as I; at the very least, I would record, as always, Shazam, as always, and music mine as much as I possibly could, seeing as I wasn't there to dance or to drink at all, but simply just to observe; my soul acted in certain ways in this environment, and I wanted to know why, or what it was exactly that made it do so, quite unforgivingly. Still, there was magic in the air; and whether it was his, or mine, or neither I neither cared to know nor did, but knew it to be—there was just nothing to to do but submit, as I had learned; and rightfully so, as I was coming to him, it allowed him to assert his dominance, which I liked and needed anyhow, in any event. Allowing any potential anyone to become the master was a given; and though not yet at my beauty's peak of perfection, my sexuality was peaking enough for me to explore my innate attraction to him, as I allowed it. I wanted to be controlled, and so although it felt forced and always ridden with guilt, whatever had happened with Sonny had sent me through an infinite loop and then put Kayla Lauren on display at the worst possible time; and though rarely missing a gym day since, I credited my own perseverance for it rather than her sheer luck at the genetic lottery. I would never be a little white girl, and though at my worst they acted as kryptonite to my super powers, whatever they were—I still had whatever it was they didn't, and perhaps not the affluent white man's proper ideal, still something and someone at best, maybe. I hoped to see a girl he might belong to at the show; but then wondered of course who might stay with the dogs. Are you serious? Either way, I was going to write, and record, and align with whatever my purpose was—as regardless of how, it seemed to have something to do with Dillon Francis. I was fasting, of course, but it hadn't been long; I had fulfilled what would be my calorie deficit with a box of plant based Oreos just the night before departing LA full of grief, stress, and chocolate,'for whatever reason; I would have a vegan doughnut at pink box, I decided, before I left Vegas—maybe to make up for the one I had lost in the wind from the oncoming train just days before—I called it God's work, as nothing else could be so comical and devastating at the same time—but was also still craving a doughnut and, still fitting I to everything I owed that I had purchased in an extra small, very comfortably, thought to be allowed one, at one time or another. It didn't matter to me; the white women of the world were made to steal anything I wanted or needed; especially a Sonny or a Dillon Francis, but at the very least I could ease my grief with sweets and work off the stress whenever I was blessed enough to hold gym memberships. I didn't care much, but needed the processing speed of a wired brain and empty stomach to be able to compute whatever might be meant for me to grasp in the matrix; after all, I had once thought of Dillon Francis to be a computer-program himself; the most nonplahable character yet, but still a record breaking synchronicity or rather large group of them, now, in my book. .Red Hot Chili Peppers - These Are The Ways I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophies Maybe it's everything Love is But fucking What? God, I'm lucky; I ought to be I run a Fortune 500 Maybe it's nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophes (Don't forget the apostrophe, Since you'll be forging for me) I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing I should be parking my car in the lobby for washing Don't mind me, It's just natural distrust All turns to dust, And all comes from nothing God, I'm lucky I should be working on something (I should be resting on Sundays, the lord says) But take my time word for it, I'm the one writing it Monday Thru Sunday I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing ‘Just remember, that every girl you see that makes you sad, is the kind of girl he gets—and that's the reason for it.' , I thought to myself. As long as I remembered Instagram models and actresses existed, I couldn't continue to be hurt by it, but I was still, somehow even after 30 years, getting used to being the ugly fat black girl—and since I wasn't Lizzo or Megan The Stallion, I really wasn't anyboth; there was still no place for me at all in the world I wanted to belong to, and I was still as I represented as I would ever be. Maybe tonight I would use my two drink tickets; a sure recipe for disaster, as I had at least almost made it to the 48 hour mark fasting, If I was counting correctly. Perhaps a vegan doughnut could soak up the liquor and shame after leaving the encore at 3 am with nothing but a handful of words and some samples, and perhaps a podcast episode if there could be one. Dua Lipa, Hallucinate What happens after The Daisy swallows Dillon Francis?! Dillon HART Francis. That's a funny name! He's a funny guy. Sometimes. Sometimes. What was I to do? I just kept writing and had nowhere to send it; there was no pitch, there was no plot, and there was certainly no point. Enter The Multiverse and The Festival Project as a whole made up for everything I could have potentially been worth—which was nothing— and I hadn't a clue at all what I was purposed for; I seemed almost psychically robotic, remembering things as they happened within seconds, only enough to slightly offset a rebuttal that at any rate seemed scripted, but wasn't—at least yet. It seemed as if I was in a movie, but to any such ohaycologist of course this could have been considered mania, psychosis, or delusions of grandeur—or even— Dillusions of Granduer. I was funny too, sometimes. I didn't have to think Dillon Francis was shallow—I knew he was shallow, just as such with Sonny or any other man worth his salt, whatever that actually meant. But, just as I had harshly learned anything else, I was starting to understand why, as the smaller and more agile I became, the more I could do with my own body, and as such began to understand why men preferred slim and petite women. I was settling in well to my non-bianary status, and my celibacy—I could do more on my own or with myself than with any partner to date, and with the only human of interest being himself well over 300 pounds, I opted to keep to myself and simply observe human nature for the time being, rather than to take part in it. I wasn't eating, but for the first time in days I had slept, and pushing anything from the future or past far from my mind, I opted to remain present, and aloof; it wouldn't mean much to try to care at all about anything—the more I cared, the more the universe would subtract from my contentedness. Hear Me Now, Nicky Romero “If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.” —William Blake As if this isn't the greatest story ever told. I'm pretty sure that's The Passion of The Christ. This is The Passion Of The Christ. That's just blasphemous. It's The Passion of— Go on. I mean, it is infinite. Well, first there was infinite— —everything— —Everything. Now what. Oh, I know. What is it? It's The Passion of Dillon Francis. Why is that? Because, they're going to kill him. Why? Dillon Francis isn't in the Illuminati! Think twice before going there. But I've got a one track mind. A one track mind In a multitrack world Is a square peg to a round hole And a half-heart To a whole world And nothing's left but to give But to give is to get Just live, Try to forget that it's Infinite What's for dinner dear? I met you here, at the crossroads Like I said I would; And you said you wouldn't come, But here you are: A phenomenon Pardon my awful camaraderie Oh! I forgot all my manners Beg your hard on for hours, Till wilted, like later my flowers Oh, the debachery —better off watching your crotch, Than up on the cross, Like last that I saw you— Stop Look, I just want to watch; I just want to wash all the blood off my hands, From the Hog I put on the bonfire (Forgot what it's called in Oahu) Who are you? I died in a fire, you know In your eyes, Despite how I tried to avoid them They light up at night, sometimes No Divine or desire I'm just here to top off my tires, I'm tired, you know —better off watching, I'm novice Another day at the office, A shot gun in place of deposits, collateral Oh, I'm the asshole— I'm actually quite proud of it This is called something of consciousness, Writing a canon, But I'm quite forgetful; A madman, if you can imagine (Disasterous) Now you attack at your best, I'm un-vested Invested my time in unrest, Don't forget I'm just under your bed We mustn't forget how it started Intensive care Must be intense in the moment When you're Dillon Francis Ah yes. Leave A Trace, CHRCHES Tell me again how you're different; I exist just to wash dishes and watch DJs— I'm lazy; A patronage made just to let the white bitches forget all their privelege; In fact, it's a gift In fact, they're chosen— In fact, I'm just “Isn't” It's miserable Everyone Talks, Neon Trees | Three Pound Chicken Wing, deadmau5 | Paradise, Laidback Luke feat. Bright Lights Let me explain, How it's a vibration; I don't care what body you're in— It's all the same love, If it's all the same love, Then I love you I love you I love you, But I'm in a body It's torturous Let me explain how It's a vibration New word: It's Sapiosexual; Oh, I forgot how you Maddened me once, with your syntax and grammar Ah, now I'm sad as Hell ‘Might as well end it”, I thought to myself If looked as disheveled as I felt They would have stopped me from entering Even at ‘Envy' Let me explain, How I'm the villain This just happens over and over To poor Skrillex And Dillon Francis So much fame and fortune It turns into torture The girls on the rail A pecking order; Ready to devour, And be devoured by The man of the hour “ I might as well end it, then” I said. (But just for attention, I'm stuck in this body, Just rotting Cause nobody wants me at this damn party I've had enough of it I need some water and Probably a therapist Oh, ‘Stream of consciousness' There, I remembered it. Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) Uh huh, I'm no fun at parties [Three knocks on the door] I ignore it (This part is important) [three more knocks] Ought to be something, But still, I assume that it's nothing No guts, and no glory Nobody to love me Uh huh I'm no fun at parties Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) No wonder I used to cut myself “I can feel something” I once sung Now I just run; But— I'm still not small enough For somebody to want me I like to eat every now and again But— I guess that's my problem I just want someone to want me That doesn't remind me of Something i'm not But instead as in awe of my body As I am of Anything other than Tragedy Walk like an Egyptian, The Bangles I excused myself for the lackluster workout—after all, it had been days since my last real meal, and three now since my last solid anything; I had been happy with coconut water and alkaline, trying not to stay too far from the petite I was aiming for.; the plaid dress was a perfect match for the boots I had picked out, astonished that with the nearly 300-lb weight loss, my feet had also happened to shrink down a size and a half—I was dressed to impress, but prepared to be humiliated, and to top that—very eager to Google how long it would take me to get from XS, to Pink Box doughnuts—which was open 24 hours. At least I didn't exactly look like a prostitute—and, as an added bonus, might even could keep the dress for work or interviews; the boots walked nicely, at least for now, and I didn't mind the modesty, as I was already as out of place and forgotten as could be. Rather than opting for a coconut water, I stayed empty; not much was needed to do what I intended, which was almost nothing, and I hoped at the very least my senses and delicate nerves would be somehow put at ease. My iPhone microphone was sensitive enough to catch a song from a car waiting for the light halfway across the street— Freddie's Dead, Curtis Mayfield I crossed at the walk and kept my eyes to the ground, steadying my gait I into an awkward trot as not to appear to confident. I was right on time at the bus stop, and, within moments, not to my suprise, the 103 passed by me, even as I leaned against the stop waving my phone wirh the screen lit. “What a dick.” Perhaps I had fasted too long and worked out too hard; I had indeed left my clothes in a heap of heavy and drenched conglomerate of sweat and tears. I did have a headache, and didn't care much to return yet to my dwelling—in fact, there was something calling me out, and so out I went. Summoning a surprisingly inexpensive Über, I trotted begrudgingly to the WinCo behind me for a Pressed Coconjr Water—the world seemed to dysfunction a little too autonomously when I was running on empty, and with less stored fat supply than before, any triggered ketosis often resulted in a heavy cloud of thoughtless disability; I fumbled around clumsily, breathing shallow in the overstimulation of everything and everyone's aura—but that was exactly what I needed to see: Dillon had always glowed in brilliant shades of purple, but at one time, white—which startled me, especially because it was rare for anyone to glow that way. 120 calories of Coconut water wouldn't quite offset the caloric deficits Raul picked me up in a brand new Tesla, of course—which didn't feel like a coincidence, as nothing did; I had just earlier in the day been thinking of Lim Manuel Miranda, whose face was earned on the cover of a magazine as I purchased my coconut wate; I snapped a picture and hurried along to my whatever it was—instead of spending the next two hours on the bus, I'd get to collect the music from the warmup DJ, and since it was his job I wanted to aquire, it was probably in good taste and good fortune to support anyone whose name I didn't already know. As I arrived to the encore, my eyes were blurred and I was still a little woozy, but the headache was gone and replaced with an all-out bad attitude that didn't exactl come from out of nowhere. As easily distracted as I was, and out of place, I was surprisingly quick to lose self awareness; as I stopped to take a portrait for the festival project, security approached, assuming I was as trashed as anybody else hunched over the trash can—I explained I was working on an art project, and she seemed refreshed—I hadn't realized that how it looked wasn't at all out of the ordinary, remembering where I was, and suddenly, remembering where I was, I remembered the first time I was here, which had inspired the poem Red Velvet, which was lost to time and buried in the rubble of my endlessly infinite Google documents I never received my drink tickets—probably for the best, as k had been tempted this time to actually use them. My life was in actual shambles, with no direction whatsoever—and here I was, on the guestlist at Dillon Francis of all places, with nearly no other place to be. Maybe if I was vigilant I would be front and center at the rail—placing me back in the fandom instead of fiending for a reason or purpose any of this had happened. I'm not mad You're a man And an animal Can't help yourself can you you? Don't be mad at me I'm just a fan And an animal I can't help my attraction I'm second to last, Wirh my hand on the rail And I'm not here to dance (But the music's fantastic) Well, Dillon's front row is always a sight for sore eyes. This is hilarious. I'm laughing on the inside. Just, have a little drink with me. WHY DOES THE DJ KEEP PLAYING SIMMERTIME SADNESS!!! ITS NOT EVEN SUMMER. #SELFIE The club scene had changed much since the days of Red Velvet, but not much, also—vanity had always been the norm, but now more was allowable; at least Fat girls were allowed on the Dance floor without bogarting our way in—but now, the whole of the masses needed photographic evidence of everything; I wasn't in the least interested in taking photos of myself, or anything really hit the discarded rmknce of what had been a night of drinking and shenanigans, whatever the outcome; I never knew, but typically lately had made a habit of throwing away the trash after taking the photos for my project; tonight thiugh, something new caught my eye, as the warm up and caught my ears and I Shazammed every song for the taking—.Recycling bins at the foot of the rails—where, by the way, I had been pushed to front and center, looking quite like someone's Grandmother in my spectacles and too- long- for- the-club-dress—but I was comfortable, hadn't been given any trouble at the door, and, for the time being, was actually next to someone's grandparents. b€NZ (feat syaquis) Front row lit Finna get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We finnafight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shake that bony ass Like we on skid row. Yas Go ahead. Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shame that bony ass Like we on skid row. Where we gonna go In the morning Go ahead. The DJ's pace was picking up, so I knew that it had to be toward the end of his set—would I even make it to close—or did I want to? There wasn't much to see, but there might be more to write. I looked around myself, empathy giving way; now I wasn't myself, or anyone in particular—just a bystander in the crowd, drunk off the placebo of experience ‘What if this was your life every night for the last 10 years?' Uhhhh. I Shazamed another tune— What if this is your life for the next 10 years? Oh Fuxk. I'm getting too old for this. Or… just old enough. The night was moving forward, and so people were drunker, and I probably wouldn't stay at the front row too long; but I was right in the place where the bass hit just right, so it felt good enough— but you couldn't see the DJ's hands. Just so you know, When I'm bored at a show— I take out my notebook Oh no, You're not bothering me; No thanks, I'm not really lonely, I'm just Writing a novel Or album Or movie Or something “Are you in the industry?” The tallish blonde girl next to me asked, progressively more drunk than when she first had appeared next to me at the rail—the front row was now predominately female, which I supposed to be typical—what a life. I just shook my head and continued as I was. For the most part unamused, and even a little bored, as I always was at a club show. I wasn't behind the decks, so I wasn't really anywhere at all. Maybe it was the bass, but I had suddenly stopped craving a doughnut, however by 4 am I was probably just about going to be ready for one; Or half dozen, cause— And with a flash of steam and sweat, the man of the hour appeared, but I found it hard to lift my head— I probably should step back from this front row… The energy in your front row is everything; at least to a DJ like me… Okay Gerald, I'll get you a table— you can't tell anyone you're a piñata. Okay ?' okay. GERALD has permanently shapeshifted into a Human being. (To a hot girl) I'M ACTUALLY A PIÑATA. (Drunken hot girl) WHAT? I'M A PIÑATA! WHAT?! GERALD, NO. WHAT? She's drunk! So?! i told you already—don't tell anyone you're using magic—-or I'm using magic— But—Dillon—magic is real! You said so! I know that!!! DFR, Dillon Francis God dammit, I almost forgot about this album. No you didnt. (Shapeshifting) (Spellcasting) (Other Magic shit) Yeah, but I forgot about the album. Yeah, I bet SAVAGE>< Freek In The Ghetto, Skrillex No. No. No. Oh fuck, where is Skrillex? Oh yeah, huh?! OH YEAH, huh. — What the everlivingFUCK. Oh shit. WHAT are you doing? Just playing a game. WHATDIDITELLYOU— Oh shit, she's mad— Run, dude— Run!! OH SHIT. I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU Well— Well. Well, well, well— Suddenly, it seemed everyone in the front row Was alt right- and as always, all the hot white girls moved into VIP—it was a tired game; I would always be black, and I would always be ugly, and so it hurt less than made me think twice or three times who I was dealing with. I just so happened to look over my shoulder and be somewhat attracted to the girl behind me. ‘'maybe it's time to start dating women' …but that would never work. GERALD. WHAT?! I thought I told you— I know, I know— GIMME ANOTHER SHOT. What, Dillon—! I thought you weren't DRINKING! Gerald! It's me! I know it's you. No! It's me! Ū! SUPACREE?! NO' SHH! I'm Ū!!! Where's / Dillon Francis?! WHERE IS SKRILLEX? He's in your heart. Oh shit. I gave that to Dillon Francis. Well, then, you have your answer. Fuxk. Let it happen. Tame Impala Man, I love that kid. I love that kid. So what happened? It's a long story. —NOT THE TIME MACHINE —NOT THE BOX GET IN THE TIME MACHINE! NOT THE BOX—!!!!! UGH, not Dillon Francis. (Yes, Dillon Francis.) What's his deal?! Who's what, him!!? YES. Satan. Hm. Whats your deal with Dillon Francis? What?! I don't have a deal with Dillon Francis… What?! YOU DONT!? NO! Why not? Cause! Being honest..? The devil, being honest: (Psh) I owe him money. What!! Satan, no way. Yes way! Hod that happen?' Lost a bet. Damn. This set is getting good. What are you watching? Gerald's world The legend of supacree Enter the multiverse The infinite Skrillifiles What? Uh oh. What ñ 5) 3 time space time continuums just shattered CONFETTI BLAST OH SHIT, it just shattered twice. We gotta go. Where we going To the planet Which—ducking planet. The one with the ducks. QUACK oh shit. A duck DUCK DUCK!! DUCK—DUCK—DUCK— Damn, this game really has gone on forever— ITS EDM O CLOCK, BITCH—! GET UP!! Mmm. We better go. Yes. We better go ALI and AVICII are very, very drunk in Heaven. THEY FINALLY MADE IT?! —of course we made it! —We knew the way! But of course: GOD No, go back. WHAT ARE YOU serious? MARTY! MARTY MCFLY! DAWG, it's good to see you! Wait. What the Fuxk dimension is THIS?' It's the one with Dillon Francis That's— a —FUCK. Dillon Francis is in a lot of dimensions. Yeah but this is the right one. How do you know? That was the theme song for the TV show. What TV show? Damn. I'm fucked up. What! I thought you didn't drink. I don't I'm an empath. MEANWHILE SUPACREE and SUNNÍ BLŪ have collided in a para-dimensional reality OH, SHIT, it's ME OH FUCK—DAMN. Now what do we do? Drugs? Drugs. Yeaaaaaaaah. One More Time, Daft Punk My son's favorite song. It was the second time it had played today, and the first time it wasn't nearly as bad as the second — now i was glad for the cloud of cold steam, I couldn't hide my upset as much as I wanted to ‘'Just keep writing' Okay. They're trying to kill me With white girls, And memories And it just might work I'm trying to write myself out the box Oh my god And it just my work I'm trying to get lost But I'm all out of sauce This is not gonna work I see you went and hopped on the band wagon Somebody get that dragon. /$3/ Huh That's how much I paid for this You—what?! I paid $3 You paid $3 Yes. For this. Yes. I'm gonna kill you. Ū VS DILLON FRANCIS Uh oh. Here it goes. FIGHT. Oh shit. I've been waiting all season for this. Here it goes. KO. SUPACREE WINS. What. It's over already? This isn't possible. GAME OVER. What the Fuxk. This is insane. No fucking way #%%]!! Wait. What the fuck I thought it was Ū VS Dillon Francisz YeH! It was. What the fuck. So how did SUPACREE win? Huh. Wait, did anybody ever find Skrillex? Oh, My God. Just then, someone threw a Red Bull and it hit my foot enough that it actually distracted me from writing— THROW ANOTHER ONE! No, dont! Why, what's wrong? I have to take back these boots in the morning. Oh good, Jesus made it. What Jesus who! JESÚS CHRIST! What? What do you want? I didn't think you'd come! I had to. I thought you were on vacation. Exactly. Listen, Dillon—I have to tell you something. Uh huh. This isn't going to be easy. Chak Chel, what is it? I need you to listen. Uh, I'm kinda busy. It was at this point— Really, this point—? I had to stop and asses for myself what was really happening. I was writing up a storm, and it did seem to happen automatically, as it had before. I'm a looper Open the coupe up, Stupid, Who did you think I is This is the business Go listen to Skrillex And KILL YOURSELF Huh? JUST KILL YOURSELF. Ah, okay—but not because you said so. Listen, I'm finna spit this quick while you spin it Spit in it: clitoris I'm different bitch After this dinner I'm still in the kitchen With dishes, bitch Till it glistens While I listen To excision (I'm just kidding) Dammit, this is a lot of Skrillex What exactly did you say about Dillon Francis not being in the Illuminati First of all, the Illuminati isn't real. SUPACREE How did you get famous? SUNNÍ BLŪ I'm in the Illuminati. You? SUPACREE I AM the Illuminati. SUNNÍ BLŪ NIce. [Cheers] Hey. Hey. Anybody seen Gerald? … … … Zzz. Damn. Nodding off On the clock I'm on the floor, And yo this shit is toxic Turn the knob a bit; My foot starting to throb again I'm looking hot like Somebody's mom again Damn. I'm getting off On the wrong kind of drama This isn't long at all But it's all wrong, ya'll I dont belong here Lost My Mind, Alison Wonderland OHH THIS SHIT BE HITTING DIFFERENT It did hit different. Someone either vomited or spilled the rest of their drink on me, which took me out of my moment: the music was telling a story, at least to me—and I didn't feel like feeling right then, but it was all I could do ñ. I was surprised that I was still standing at all, Ugh. I don't understand my feelings. This was deeper than it seemed, bigger than it — Ugh. What do you want from me? All I've got is applause, and a cough drop It's just another night at the office I'm somebody's mom In a long lost thought; All zeros on the clock In a tick tock, or two, when you're off And you're long gone, I'll still be wandering Stuck at the mall Till the bus comes —trying to write myself out the box I'm a lost soul I'm a club kid I'm a lost cause But i'll stay till the end, Cause last time I walked off And my thoughts wandered back to the dance floor All that I wanted is A penny for gods thoughts And now she keeps dropping them —and more often then not, She's dropping the knowledge That I'm in the wrong, For just wanting you: But what can I do; I just want to be like you, and less of a primate Something saw right through me, and I felt invisible—now a doughnut sounded good, and I hoped that they would have vegan this early in the morning. There was about a half hour left of the set, and I was tired; I would stay until the end of the set, for some reason—-but now — Oh shit. Remember that one time/— Which TIME One time, I lost my mind and drove off of a bridge. That did happen. That did happen. I had at one point been unwell, and so— ugh, that's it Some smelly kid squeezed his way in between me and the next person over,,probably on molly or something—meanwhile the young white supremacists club of America was codeswitching up a storm, me pretending not to notice, but— he was dancing a little too hard, hitting me a little too much—and clearly not giving any kind of fuck: it wouldn't be my first panic attack on the dance floor, but it probably would be my last; it was the same story over and over again— only the next generation had even less of a Fuxk than I ever did. I left the dance floor and opted to stand behind VIP — DID ANYONE EVER FIND SKRILLEX? Wrf. He died. WHAT. No seriously, I watched him die. Okay. Then what? Then he got up. That's a twist. Now I can't sleep. That sounds traumatic. It was traumatic. How long's it been? I HAVE NOT SLEPT IN ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND YEARS. Great, the vampires are here, too. Good. I've been craving Vegan blood. Ihj. What. It's better for you. God dammit, Dillon Francis Why does this always happen? I can't remember half of what I did Before I napped, and landed back in this dimension Now, I'll give you my attention for a minute— But I'm worried about Skrillex Didnt I mention i needed permission (Or just a perscription) To get this ignition I didn't even want to come to this I hate this club It's filled will memories You won't remember me For half another century Cause I can't finish writing I'm too busy riding The bus To work And crying all the time Cause therapy doesn't And I used to love this stuff, but UHH 1–2–3 : BUN UP THE DANCE This is a lot of Skrillex. Is he okay? Is Dillon Francis Okay!? They're both okay. They're both millionaires. They'll be fine. huayayay!!!!. Fuck this. Fuck this. Alright, I'm leaving. Are we eating? If it's vegan. Ah man. What just happened? I'm definitely in the Illuminati. I have a tendency To pretend that You're friends with me Speeded I get it's a Fantasy But I had to see you In the flesh I digress I picture you're just as Obsessed with me Guess I'd regret to suggest that You should have Sex with me Directly but it's nestled in my head In the red Would you get into bed with me After everything I said Or I wrote, and you read Or am I just Better off dead Youre so far ahead, And I get that it's Just a test At best but I've yet to digest Breakfast Caught in a web of Heaven or or empathy Trying to empty my envy For whoever's holding your hand Instead of me Please, Forgive me— But, If you're reading this, It's too late; All triple sixes and Tipping the sinners With witless intentions Wet at the back of the ears But I've known you for years And I said I'd be here; I remembered the dress If a grown man can be a romantic, Like I am This is the promised land No looking back-- "I have to have that" Back to reality; I see now, how a woman's like a hat Just a thing, An unneeded accessory, Like jewelry; To wear it, It must be a match Not just average, Accentuates or masks Whatever it is what you have, And you have so many that It doesn't matter. What is he after? He has everything Most likely just using me to bring these Creatures to life If he needs a wife, she's Probably staring back at me, Through the back of the camera; Fantastic beasts and fucking fansasies A fallacy A back handed chance at a handsome Has been; But he'll never been had like that, He has everything, But he could have more than that, He can have anything, And he has, he's Magic or something or Mad at me for taking so long but, I've been in the world of monsters, Reeling; Oh what a horrible feeling I'm dealing with being unappealing and Peeling potatoes, which Remind me of me, cause Kenny Powers middle name is White, Like Walter, I'm just trying to find The alter to sell away something inside, I'm dying; Or at least I'd like to I've Tried a dozen times I'd smile if I had the time-- Remind me, what it is again It isn't comprehensive, But I'm out of my element-- And the elephant in the room is named Skrillex, Or Dillon Francis, Or Timmy Trumpet, Or, Fuck It-- I'll probably never be the DJ that I wanna be Cause I'm awfully ugly, And no one wants to play with me But hey, Maybe it's just a mistake Its just no one speaks my language Comunication is limited I'm sitting in the back of the short bus Discussing this with my imaginary elephant, But that's irrelevant to the White rinocerous in front of the bus with trust issues bigger than the rest of us https://gofund.me/7d3da4e5 {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

(00:00:00) intro (00:00:56) CÓMO CONTACTAR A TUS ÁNGELES (00:08:36) EL MENÚ (00:11:14) CÓMO SER EL HIJO IMPERFECTO DE PETRO (00:24:24) JESÚS ESTÁ ENTRE NOSOTROS (00:35:09) FACEBOOK NO TIENE LA CULPA (00:52:54) LA ONU TIENE LA CULPA DEL CALOR (00:59:16) EL LOBOX DE WALL STREET (01:02:11) ELON TE PIDE TU ZELLE (01:03:58) NÍGER EN EL PANORAMA (01:12:23) LOS PRESIDENTES QUE SI RENUNCIAN CUANDO HAY ESCÁNDALO (01:18:10) AMLO QUIERE QUE LEAS ESTOS LIBROS (01:24:59) INTELIGENCIA ARTIFICIAL Y POLÍTICA (01:31:02) DROGAS OREGON Y PORTUGAL COMPARTEN (01:45:25) ESTAR EN PÚBLICO ES PRIVADO (01:49:08) MESSI Y MIAMI (01:50:10) MI HERMANO EN LA INDIA EL EXTRA Hay más gente que cree en ángeles de los que pensábamos, estadísticas que nos ponen a pensar que el covid no hizo su trabajo https://apnews.com/article/religion-poll-belief-angels-devil-bee64258d6a47067a046ba7f3c50933a Si echas de menos Succession todo el cuento del hijo de Petro te va a interesar https://www.publico.es/internacional/caso-hijo-gustavo-petro.html https://www.semana.com/nacion/articulo/por-que-el-presidente-gustavo-petro-se-reunio-con-los-abogados-de-su-hijo-mientras-estaba-detenido-nicolas-petro-explota-esa-reunion-me-ayudo-tambien-a-dar-el-paso-que-di/202350/ Hicieron falta 4 estudios de 4 universidades muy serias para decirnos que no son las redes sociales las que nos polarizan, obvio, son las elites para mantenernos divididos mientras beben adenocromo en Davos https://www.nytimes.com/2023/07/27/technology/facebook-instagram-algorithms.html Finalmente conseguì a un Jesús de Nazareth que responde inmediatamente, y no no me parece un chiste https://theconversation.com/a-chatbot-willing-to-take-on-questions-of-all-kinds-from-the-serious-to-the-comical-is-the-latest-representation-of-jesus-for-the-ai-age-208644 https://www.twitch.tv/ask_jesus ¿Alérgico a las noticias? No estás solo pero tienes que leer una noticia para saber porqué https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/other/do-you-avoid-the-news-you-re-in-growing-company/ar-AA1eD6K6 Tratamos de disminuir la contaminación y produjimos el peor accidente de geoingeniería, las naciones unidas son culpables de que tengas calor? https://www.science.org/content/article/changing-clouds-unforeseen-test-geoengineering-fueling-record-ocean-warmth https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dk8pwE3IByg&t=84s El niño Musk quiere atención otra vez y además quiere que X sea un plataforma de trading https://www.coindesk.com/business/2023/08/03/elon-musks-x-seeks-data-giant-partner-to-build-in-app-stock-trading-service-semafor/ Si no le has parado bola a Ucrania porquè deberìas pararle a lo que ocurre en el âfrica Subsahariana https://www.economist.com/leaders/2023/08/01/why-the-nightmare-in-niger-is-the-worlds-problem https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2023/8/6/niger-coup-divisions-as-ecowas-military-threat-fails-to-play-out Otro escandalito acadèmico, esta vez, casi nada, renuncia el Presidente de Stanford porque su laboratorio hizo cositas https://www.nytimes.com/2023/07/30/opinion/stanford-president-student-journalist.html Lopez Obrador empeñado en repartir sus libros en los colegios que vienen màs cargados que una piñata ideològica https://elpais.com/mexico/2023-08-02/polemica-por-los-libros-escolares-la-justicia-pide-revisar-los-textos-y-el-gobierno-busca-entregarlos-sin-cambios-a-los-colegios.html https://www.infobae.com/mexico/2023/08/03/que-es-el-credo-de-la-4t-que-aparece-en-los-nuevos-libros-de-texto-de-la-sep/ Seis maneras en que la Inteligencia Artificial va a jugar en la polìtica https://www.technologyreview.com/2023/07/28/1076756/six-ways-that-ai-could-change-politics/ Hace 50 años los gringos declararon la guerra contra las drogas, hoy Oregon es la capital del fentanyl con una mala copia del modelo Portuguès https://www.esquire.com/news-politics/a44651237/oregon-drug-decriminalization-measure-110/ Què importa si es Barbie o Sound of Freedom, lo que importa es que estamos haciendo en el cine que no haciamos antes https://www.latercera.com/pulso-pm/noticia/el-comportamiento-en-las-salas-de-cine-se-ha-salido-de-control/VDOSKSEMEVDX5PS6TTPJQYAAA4/ Y EN EL EXTRA PORQUE DIABLOS ME DA POR HAblar de un indio musulmàn https://theintercept.com/2023/08/06/umar-khalid-india-modi

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Sumario del programa DANIEL GARCÍA *Tecnología alienígena inversa. JM. FERNÁNDEZ MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS *Qué hacer si siento un espíritu. CARLOS ALBAREDA *Inicios de la ufología moderna. Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Por FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/Nemesis-Radio-1550831935166728/ Podcast de NEMESIS RADIO: http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-podcast-nemesis-radio_sq_f1133446_1.html CANAL MISTERIOS DE IVOOX: https://www.ivoox.com/escuchar-canal-misterios-ivoox_nq_2594_1.html Canal misterios de Ivoox: https://www.facebook.com/canalmisteriosdeIvoox/ YOU TUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7PD6Knea7eWw88rLp0vR0w E-MAIL: nemesisradiomurcia@gmail.com Por Internet a través de nuestras webs: frecuenciamurcia.es -Comenzaremos con nuestra querida amiga y compañera ANA THEYSSER. Que contesta a preguntas sobre el mundo de los fantasmas que le habéis hecho llegar. -De la mano de nuestro compañero el historiador Pedro Rubio, escucharemos en NÉMESIS RADIO, las Efemérides de hoy 15 de julio. -En HISTORIAS, CUENTOS Y LEYENDAS, vamos a tener a nuestro querido amigo y compañero, JESÚS GARCÍA, Periodista de Canal Sur Radio, quien nos hablará de “T.C.I y Psicofonías obtenidas de mascotas fallecidas” -Y en vez de DEBATIR, esta noche para despedir la temporada, escucharemos algunos audios, que muchos de ellos os van a sorprender, grabados el pasado sábado 8 de julio, en el Mirador de la Cresta del Gallo, en lo que fue la VIII QUEDADA DE NÉMESIS RADIO. “El camino es largo y está a punto de comenzar… Compinches de la noche, poneos cómodos, agudizad las orejas que empezamos…” (NEMESIS RADIO NO SE HACE RESPONSABLE DE LOS COMENTARIOS DE LOS CONTERTULIOS E INVITADOS QUE PARTICIPAN EN DICHO PROGRAMA) DIRIGEN Y PRESENTAN ANTONIO PÉREZ Y JOSÉ ANTº MARTÍNEZ

Por FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/Nemesis-Radio-1550831935166728/ Podcast de NEMESIS RADIO: http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-podcast-nemesis-radio_sq_f1133446_1.html CANAL MISTERIOS DE IVOOX: https://www.ivoox.com/escuchar-canal-misterios-ivoox_nq_2594_1.html Canal misterios de Ivoox: https://www.facebook.com/canalmisteriosdeIvoox/ YOU TUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7PD6Knea7eWw88rLp0vR0w E-MAIL: nemesisradiomurcia@gmail.com Por Internet a través de nuestras webs: frecuenciamurcia.es -Comenzaremos con nuestra querida amiga y compañera ANA THEYSSER. Que contesta a preguntas sobre el mundo de los fantasmas que le habéis hecho llegar. -De la mano de nuestro compañero el historiador Pedro Rubio, escucharemos en NÉMESIS RADIO, las Efemérides de hoy 15 de julio. -En HISTORIAS, CUENTOS Y LEYENDAS, vamos a tener a nuestro querido amigo y compañero, JESÚS GARCÍA, Periodista de Canal Sur Radio, quien nos hablará de “T.C.I y Psicofonías obtenidas de mascotas fallecidas” -Y en vez de DEBATIR, esta noche para despedir la temporada, escucharemos algunos audios, que muchos de ellos os van a sorprender, grabados el pasado sábado 8 de julio, en el Mirador de la Cresta del Gallo, en lo que fue la VIII QUEDADA DE NÉMESIS RADIO. “El camino es largo y está a punto de comenzar… Compinches de la noche, poneos cómodos, agudizad las orejas que empezamos…” (NEMESIS RADIO NO SE HACE RESPONSABLE DE LOS COMENTARIOS DE LOS CONTERTULIOS E INVITADOS QUE PARTICIPAN EN DICHO PROGRAMA) DIRIGEN Y PRESENTAN ANTONIO PÉREZ Y JOSÉ ANTº MARTÍNEZ

Estudio Bíblico Diario para Adultos - EFESIOS Fecha: 13-07-2023 Título: JESÚS TODAS LAS COSAS Y SU IGLESIA Autor: John H McVay Locución: Cristina Rosas http://evangelike.com/estudios-biblicos-para-adultos/

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Sumario del programa ALBA LOBERA Fluorización del agua potable: *Efectos sobre la salud. *El negocio. CARLOS ALBAREDA *El astronauta de Solway. JUAN MIGUEL FERNÁNDEZ / MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS *El libre albedrío. Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Sumario del programa JUAN MIGUEL MARSELLA CRISÓSTOMO *Personas olvidadas que marcaron historia. LUIS MERINO *Vendedores de sueños. *Cuentacuentos. JUAN MIGUEL FERNÁNDEZ / MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS *Los distintos Mundos espirituales. Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Web: http://iglesiadeciudadreal.es/ Podcast:http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-iglesia-. Donaciones local: https://iglesiadeciudadreal.es/donaciones YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCPq8l9Q7KcX7j6iOGDPP_zg 04/06/2023 - PREDICACIÓN DE LA TARDE - SERIE: 1 JUAN Mateo 1:18-25 - Reina-Valera 1960 Nacimiento de Jesucristo (Lc. 2.1-7) 18 El nacimiento de Jesucristo fue así: Estando desposada María su madre con José, antes que se juntasen, se halló que había concebido del Espíritu Santo. 19 José su marido, como era justo, y no quería infamarla, quiso dejarla secretamente. 20 Y pensando él en esto, he aquí un ángel del Señor le apareció en sueños y le dijo: José, hijo de David, no temas recibir a María tu mujer, porque lo que en ella es engendrado, del Espíritu Santo es. 21 Y dará a luz un hijo, y llamarás su nombre JESÚS,[a] porque él salvará a su pueblo de sus pecados. 22 Todo esto aconteció para que se cumpliese lo dicho por el Señor por medio del profeta, cuando dijo: 23 He aquí, una virgen concebirá y dará a luz un hijo, Y llamarás su nombre Emanuel, que traducido es: Dios con nosotros. 24 Y despertando José del sueño, hizo como el ángel del Señor le había mandado, y recibió a su mujer. 25 Pero no la conoció hasta que dio a luz a su hijo primogénito; y le puso por nombre JESÚS. 2 Juan 4-11 - Reina-Valera 1960 Permaneced en la doctrina de Cristo 4 Mucho me regocijé porque he hallado a algunos de tus hijos andando en la verdad, conforme al mandamiento que recibimos del Padre. 5 Y ahora te ruego, señora, no como escribiéndote un nuevo mandamiento, sino el que hemos tenido desde el principio, que nos amemos unos a otros. 6 Y este es el amor, que andemos según sus mandamientos. Este es el mandamiento: que andéis en amor, como vosotros habéis oído desde el principio. 7 Porque muchos engañadores han salido por el mundo, que no confiesan que Jesucristo ha venido en carne. Quien esto hace es el engañador y el anticristo. 8 Mirad por vosotros mismos, para que no perdáis el fruto de vuestro trabajo, sino que recibáis galardón completo. 9 Cualquiera que se extravía, y no persevera en la doctrina de Cristo, no tiene a Dios; el que persevera en la doctrina de Cristo, ese sí tiene al Padre y al Hijo. 10 Si alguno viene a vosotros, y no trae esta doctrina, no lo recibáis en casa, ni le digáis: ¡Bienvenido! 11 Porque el que le dice: ¡Bienvenido! participa en sus malas obras.

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Sumario del programa DANIEL GARCÍA *Las máquinas que terminarán con Ser Humano JORGE RÍOS *Qué está pasando en el Mundo del misterio. JESÚS CALLEJO CABO *Misterios y enigmas literarios. Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Devocional Cristiano para Adultos - YO ESTOY CONTIGO Fecha: 25-04-2023 Título: JESÚS MORIRÍA POR LA NACIÓN Autor: Vladimir Polanco Locución: Elías Gómez http://evangelike.com/devocionales-cristianos-para-adultos/

TERTULIA Nº 101 MENSUAL.- CINE BÍBLICO. Repaso al tipo de peliculas conocidas como BÍBLICAS. JESÚS.- LA PASIÓN O ANTIGUO TESTAMENTO. RADIO BETIS - Producción.- Emisora Oficial EMA - Emisoras Municipales de Andalucía. OLA - Onda Local de Andalucía. RADIO GUADALQUIVIR. AHORA RADIO GELVES. RADIO ALCORES VISO ALCOR. EDENEX nochedehistoriaymisterio@gmail.com

GRACIAS DR.JESÚS MARTÍN FERNÁNDEZ, por tu juventud, disruptivo, innovador, sensible, cómo profesional, y sobre todo por tu COMPROMISO CON LA CALIDAD de VIDA,de TUS PACIENTES.. GRACIAS por ser compositor, director de orquesta, e innovador, con tu CIRUGIA de CÁNCERES CEREBRALES, de HEMISFERIO DERECHO, con PACIENTE DESPIERTO, CONSERVANDO EL CONDUCTOMA, y la CALIDAD de VIDA, a la CARTA de los PACIENTES. GRACIAS.. nuestro homenaje a su maestro inspirador. DR.HUGGES DUFFAU de Montpellier. GRACIAS MAESTRA TERESA ESCOBAR RUIZ ,colega cómo PARLAMENTARIA MUNDIAL de EDUCACIÓN, epxerta en FORMACIÓN para el DUELO.. desde España. GRACIAS. "La mejor vida, no es la más larga, sino la MAS RICA en BUENAS ACCIONES " MARIE CURIE. MARISA PATIÑO. Fundadora,CEO,productora.www.esperanzaargentina.com.ar EmbajadoradePaz. Mentora Neurociencias Aplicadas.www.marisapatinoambassador.com Autora NeuroEmpoderHada Cuantica.

Por FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/Nemesis-Radio-1550831935166728/ Podcast de NEMESIS RADIO: http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-podcast-nemesis-radio_sq_f1133446_1.html CANAL MISTERIOS DE IVOOX: https://www.ivoox.com/escuchar-canal-misterios-ivoox_nq_2594_1.html Canal misterios de Ivoox: https://www.facebook.com/canalmisteriosdeIvoox/ YOU TUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7PD6Knea7eWw88rLp0vR0w E-MAIL: nemesisradiomurcia@gmail.com Por Internet a través de nuestras webs: frecuenciamurcia.es -Esta noche comenzaremos con nuestro querido amigo JESÚS GARCÍA, que nos hablará de “APARICIONES EN SUEÑOS” -En nuestra sección de CRÍMENES, nuestra compañera MERCEDES GARCÍA VELASCO, nos contará, “El Crimen de la calle Emilia Pardo Bazán del Puerto de Mazarrón” -De la mano de nuestro compañero el historiador PEDRO RUBIO, escucharemos en NÉMESIS RADIO, las Efemérides de hoy 4 de marzo. -En HISTORIAS, CUENTOS Y LEYENDAS, vamos a tener a nuestro compañero, el investigador, Divulgador y escritor PACO LÓPEZ MENGÜAL, que nos narrará la Historia titulada “Don Juan de Austria y el León” -Y en nuestro DEBATE, nuestros contertulios, MIGUEL ÁNGEL RUÍZ, ISRAÉL CAPEL, PACO TORRES, JOSÉ RAMÓN SÁNCHEZ, RUBÉN CEREZO Y UN SERVIDOR… debatiremos sobre; “Los ovnis violan sistemáticamente los espacios aéreos de las naciones” “El camino es largo y está a punto de comenzar… Compinches de la noche, poneos cómodos, agudizad las orejas que empezamos…” (NEMESIS RADIO NO SE HACE RESPONSABLE DE LOS COMENTARIOS DE LOS CONTERTULIOS E INVITADOS QUE PARTICIPAN EN DICHO PROGRAMA) DIRIGEN Y PRESENTAN ANTONIO PÉREZ Y JOSÉ ANTº MARTÍNEZ

La inclusión de la estadística y la probabilidad en el currículo de Educación Infantil es reciente. Esto se debe, en parte, a la apuesta decidida de diversos organismos y autores de prestigio internacional, que vienen planteando que los alumnos deberían empezar a aprender conocimientos relacionados con el análisis de datos y el azar a partir de las primeras edades. Con IVÁN DIEGO Coordinador del programa Asturias4STEAM. JESÚS RIESCO Diplomado en Profesorado de EGB (Matemáticas y Ciencias) y Licenciado en Filosofía y Ciencias de la Educación. LUIS JOSÉ RODRÍGUEZ MUÑIZ Coordinador del Mathematics Education Research Group de la Universidad de Oviedo. Licenciado y Doctor, con Premio Extraordinario (2001), en Matemáticas. ROBERTO MANÍN. Licenciado en matemáticas en la Universidad de Oviedo por la especialidad de estadística e investigación operativa y profesor en el IES Galileo Galilei de Navia.

La inclusión de la estadística y la probabilidad en el currículo de Educación Infantil es reciente. Esto se debe, en parte, a la apuesta decidida de diversos organismos y autores de prestigio internacional, que vienen planteando que los alumnos deberían empezar a aprender conocimientos relacionados con el análisis de datos y el azar a partir de las primeras edades. Con IVÁN DIEGO Coordinador del programa Asturias4STEAM. JESÚS RIESCO Diplomado en Profesorado de EGB (Matemáticas y Ciencias) y Licenciado en Filosofía y Ciencias de la Educación. LUIS JOSÉ RODRÍGUEZ MUÑIZ Coordinador del Mathematics Education Research Group de la Universidad de Oviedo. Licenciado y Doctor, con Premio Extraordinario (2001), en Matemáticas. ROBERTO MANÍN. Licenciado en matemáticas en la Universidad de Oviedo por la especialidad de estadística e investigación operativa y profesor en el IES Galileo Galilei de Navia.

La inclusión de la estadística y la probabilidad en el currículo de Educación Infantil es reciente. Esto se debe, en parte, a la apuesta decidida de diversos organismos y autores de prestigio internacional, que vienen planteando que los alumnos deberían empezar a aprender conocimientos relacionados con el análisis de datos y el azar a partir de las primeras edades. Con IVÁN DIEGO Coordinador del programa Asturias4STEAM. JESÚS RIESCO Diplomado en Profesorado de EGB (Matemáticas y Ciencias) y Licenciado en Filosofía y Ciencias de la Educación. LUIS JOSÉ RODRÍGUEZ MUÑIZ Coordinador del Mathematics Education Research Group de la Universidad de Oviedo. Licenciado y Doctor, con Premio Extraordinario (2001), en Matemáticas. ROBERTO MANÍN. Licenciado en matemáticas en la Universidad de Oviedo por la especialidad de estadística e investigación operativa y profesor en el IES Galileo Galilei de Navia.

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Sumario del programa JUAN MIGUEL MARSELLA *El por qué y el para qué de la numerología. LUIS MERINO *La dinámica del miedo. JUAN MIGUEL FERNÁNDEZ / MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS *La casualidad no existe. Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Acabamos el año con un repaso a algunas de las entrevistas que me hicieron para charlar de mi segundo libro; en éste episodio encontraréis voces familiares como la de Alberto Hernández, el kowalsky, miguel linares y Sheila Gutiérrez o Óscar Fábrega entre otras. Estreno en exclusiva una ficción sonora extraída de un capítulo del propio libro. Tendremos correo de la morgue donde Meliwanchu os volverá a dar voz. LOS CATALÉPTICOS DE LA MORGUE SEGUIMOS SIENDO: JONI. BL, ALBERTO HERNÁNDEZ, JESÚS HERRADOR, MELIWANCHU. EN ÉSTE CAPÍTULO HA SONADO: Esto es un atraco-BURNING St Anger-METALLICA El más sucio de los nombres-MAREA.

Por FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/Nemesis-Radio-1550831935166728/ Podcast de NEMESIS RADIO: http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-podcast-nemesis-radio_sq_f1133446_1.html CANAL MISTERIOS DE IVOOX: https://www.ivoox.com/escuchar-canal-misterios-ivoox_nq_2594_1.html Canal misterios de Ivoox: https://www.facebook.com/canalmisteriosdeIvoox/ YOU TUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7PD6Knea7eWw88rLp0vR0w E-MAIL: nemesisradiomurcia@gmail.com Por Internet a través de nuestras webs: frecuenciamurcia.es -Esta noche tendremos con nosotros a un buen investigador y mejor amigo, PACO COLOMA, con el hablaremos de sus investigaciones y de enigmáticas “SEÑALES DEL MÁS ALLÁ” -En nuestra sección de CRÍMENES, nuestra compañera MERCEDES GARCÍA VELASCO, nos contará la historia de, Fernando González de Castejón: “El aristócrata de la Muerte” -De la mano de nuestro compañero el historiador PEDRO RUBIO, escucharemos en NÉMESIS RADIO, las EFEMERIDES DEL 8 DE OCTUBRE. -En Historias, Cuentos y Leyendas, esta noche nuestro querido amigo JESÚS GARCÍA, nos relatará la Historia de “LA TENEBROSA LEYENDA DE LAS CUEVAS DE ZUGARRAMURDI” -Y en nuestro DEBATE, nuestros contertulios, ……debatirán sobre… “Misión DART, ¿La NASA jugando al billar cósmico?” “El camino es largo y está a punto de comenzar… Compinches de la noche, poneos cómodos, agudizad las orejas que empezamos…” (NEMESIS RADIO NO SE HACE RESPONSABLE DE LOS COMENTARIOS DE LOS CONTERTULIOS E INVITADOS QUE PARTICIPAN EN DICHO PROGRAMA) DIRIGEN Y PRESENTAN ANTONIO PÉREZ Y JOSÉ ANTº MARTÍNEZ

Web: http://iglesiadeciudadreal.es/ Podcast:http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-iglesia-. Donaciones local: https://iglesiadeciudadreal.es/donaciones Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCPq8l9Q7KcX7j6iOGDPP_zg 25/12/2022 - PREDICACIÓN DE LA MAÑANA - CULTO ESPECIAL NAVIDAD Mateo 1:18-24 - Reina-Valera 1960 Nacimiento de Jesucristo (Lc. 2.1-7) 18 El nacimiento de Jesucristo fue así: Estando desposada María su madre con José, antes que se juntasen, se halló que había concebido del Espíritu Santo. 19 José su marido, como era justo, y no quería infamarla, quiso dejarla secretamente. 20 Y pensando él en esto, he aquí un ángel del Señor le apareció en sueños y le dijo: José, hijo de David, no temas recibir a María tu mujer, porque lo que en ella es engendrado, del Espíritu Santo es. 21 Y dará a luz un hijo, y llamarás su nombre JESÚS,[a] porque él salvará a su pueblo de sus pecados. 22 Todo esto aconteció para que se cumpliese lo dicho por el Señor por medio del profeta, cuando dijo: 23 He aquí, una virgen concebirá y dará a luz un hijo, Y llamarás su nombre Emanuel, que traducido es: Dios con nosotros. 24 Y despertando José del sueño, hizo como el ángel del Señor le había mandado, y recibió a su mujer.

Por FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/Nemesis-Radio-1550831935166728/ Podcast de NEMESIS RADIO: http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-podcast-nemesis-radio_sq_f1133446_1.html CANAL MISTERIOS DE IVOOX: https://www.ivoox.com/escuchar-canal-misterios-ivoox_nq_2594_1.html Canal misterios de Ivoox: https://www.facebook.com/canalmisteriosdeIvoox/ YOU TUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7PD6Knea7eWw88rLp0vR0w E-MAIL: nemesisradiomurcia@gmail.com Por Internet a través de nuestras webs: frecuenciamurcia.es -Esta noche tendremos con nosotros a un buen investigador y mejor amigo, PACO COLOMA, con el hablaremos de sus investigaciones y de enigmáticas “SEÑALES DEL MÁS ALLÁ” -En nuestra sección de CRÍMENES, nuestra compañera MERCEDES GARCÍA VELASCO, nos contará la historia de, Fernando González de Castejón: “El aristócrata de la Muerte” -De la mano de nuestro compañero el historiador PEDRO RUBIO, escucharemos en NÉMESIS RADIO, las EFEMERIDES DEL 8 DE OCTUBRE. -En Historias, Cuentos y Leyendas, esta noche nuestro querido amigo JESÚS GARCÍA, nos relatará la Historia de “LA TENEBROSA LEYENDA DE LAS CUEVAS DE ZUGARRAMURDI” -Y en nuestro DEBATE, nuestros contertulios, ……debatirán sobre… “Misión DART, ¿La NASA jugando al billar cósmico?” “El camino es largo y está a punto de comenzar… Compinches de la noche, poneos cómodos, agudizad las orejas que empezamos…” (NEMESIS RADIO NO SE HACE RESPONSABLE DE LOS COMENTARIOS DE LOS CONTERTULIOS E INVITADOS QUE PARTICIPAN EN DICHO PROGRAMA) DIRIGEN Y PRESENTAN ANTONIO PÉREZ Y JOSÉ ANTº MARTÍNEZ

.- Aprobación de la Ley Trans en en el Congreso de los Diputados de España. .- Comentario al artículo navideño JESÚS CANCELADO.

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Sumario del programa JOSÉ ANTONIO GUIJARRO *Mujeres que marcaron la historia de la ciencia. LUIS MERINO *Glosario vampírico. Vampiros por el Mundo. JUAN MIGUEL FERNÁNDEZ – MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS *Qué sentimos al morir. Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

Parte I. La primera Navidad La primera navidad es la historia del obstinado amor de Dios por nosotros, amor que cambia nuestras vidas. No te pierdas la oportunidad de acercarte a Él. ¿Te gustaría hoy conocerle? Quizás has estado muy cerca de Él porque conoces su historia, pero muy lejos a la vez porque no te has atrevido a experimentar su amor. Hoy puedes comenzar a disfrutar la verdadera navidad, porque de esto se trata la NAVIDAD. Se trata de JESÚS

Por FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/Nemesis-Radio-1550831935166728/ Podcast de NEMESIS RADIO: http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-podcast-nemesis-radio_sq_f1133446_1.html CANAL MISTERIOS DE IVOOX: https://www.ivoox.com/escuchar-canal-misterios-ivoox_nq_2594_1.html Canal misterios de Ivoox: https://www.facebook.com/canalmisteriosdeIvoox/ YOU TUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7PD6Knea7eWw88rLp0vR0w E-MAIL: nemesisradiomurcia@gmail.com Por Internet a través de nuestras webs: frecuenciamurcia.es -Esta noche tendremos con nosotros a un buen amigo el investigador y divulgador, JORGE RÍOS, con el hablaremos de una de sus investigaciones “Los Fantasmas del Museo” -En nuestra sección de CRÍMENES, nuestra compañera MERCEDES GARCÍA VELASCO, nos contará la historia de, “Angelique Six” -De la mano de nuestro compañero el historiador PEDRO RUBIO, escucharemos en NÉMESIS RADIO, las Efemérides del 3 de diciembre. -En Historias, Cuentos y Leyendas, esta noche nuestro querido amigo JESÚS GARCÍA JIMÉNEZ, nos relatará la Historia de “Abraham, abrahames y el Esoterismo” -Y en nuestro DEBATE, nuestros contertulios, ……debatirán sobre… “Incidente ovni aeropuerto del Altet, Alicante, noviembre del 2022” “El camino es largo y está a punto de comenzar… Compinches de la noche, poneos cómodos, agudizad las orejas que empezamos…” (NEMESIS RADIO NO SE HACE RESPONSABLE DE LOS COMENTARIOS DE LOS CONTERTULIOS E INVITADOS QUE PARTICIPAN EN DICHO PROGRAMA) DIRIGEN Y PRESENTAN ANTONIO PÉREZ Y JOSÉ ANTº MARTÍNEZ

Por FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/Nemesis-Radio-1550831935166728/ Podcast de NEMESIS RADIO: http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-podcast-nemesis-radio_sq_f1133446_1.html CANAL MISTERIOS DE IVOOX: https://www.ivoox.com/escuchar-canal-misterios-ivoox_nq_2594_1.html Canal misterios de Ivoox: https://www.facebook.com/canalmisteriosdeIvoox/ YOU TUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7PD6Knea7eWw88rLp0vR0w E-MAIL: nemesisradiomurcia@gmail.com Por Internet a través de nuestras webs: frecuenciamurcia.es -Esta noche tendremos con nosotros a un buen investigador y mejor amigo, PACO COLOMA, con el hablaremos de sus investigaciones y de enigmáticas “SEÑALES DEL MÁS ALLÁ” -En nuestra sección de CRÍMENES, nuestra compañera MERCEDES GARCÍA VELASCO, nos contará la historia de, Fernando González de Castejón: “El aristócrata de la Muerte” -De la mano de nuestro compañero el historiador PEDRO RUBIO, escucharemos en NÉMESIS RADIO, las EFEMERIDES DEL 8 DE OCTUBRE. -En Historias, Cuentos y Leyendas, esta noche nuestro querido amigo JESÚS GARCÍA, nos relatará la Historia de “LA TENEBROSA LEYENDA DE LAS CUEVAS DE ZUGARRAMURDI” -Y en nuestro DEBATE, nuestros contertulios, Miguel Ángel Ruíz, Paco torres,Rubén Cerezo y jose Antonio Martinez, debatirán sobre… “Misión DART, ¿La NASA jugando al billar cósmico?” “El camino es largo y está a punto de comenzar… Compinches de la noche, poneos cómodos, agudizad las orejas que empezamos…” (NEMESIS RADIO NO SE HACE RESPONSABLE DE LOS COMENTARIOS DE LOS CONTERTULIOS E INVITADOS QUE PARTICIPAN EN DICHO PROGRAMA) DIRIGEN Y PRESENTAN ANTONIO PÉREZ Y JOSÉ ANTº MARTÍNEZ

"¿DESEMPEÑA JESÚS UN PAPEL ESPECIAL EN LA CURACIÓN? MANUAL PARA EL MAESTRO. #UCDM #UnCursoDeMilagros Descubre por qué estás conectando con Un Curso de Milagros, y cómo nos van guiando para conocer y recordar nuestra Verdad. Ven y une tu mente, seguimos nuestra aventura al interior de nuestro interior, para quitar los velos y diseñar nuestra mente con Un Curso de Milagros #espiritu #perdon #milagro #paz #UnCursodeMilagros #SaludMental #curarLaMente #mente #EspírituSanto #curacion #espiritu #perdon #milagro #paz #UnCursodeMilagros #SaludMental #curarLaMente #mente #EspírituSanto #curacion #UCDM "

Por FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/Nemesis-Radio-1550831935166728/ Podcast de NEMESIS RADIO: http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-podcast-nemesis-radio_sq_f1133446_1.html CANAL MISTERIOS DE IVOOX: https://www.ivoox.com/escuchar-canal-misterios-ivoox_nq_2594_1.html Canal misterios de Ivoox: https://www.facebook.com/canalmisteriosdeIvoox/ YOU TUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7PD6Knea7eWw88rLp0vR0w E-MAIL: nemesisradiomurcia@gmail.com Por Internet a través de nuestras webs: frecuenciamurcia.es -Esta noche tendremos con nosotros a un buen investigador y mejor amigo, PACO COLOMA, con el hablaremos de sus investigaciones y de enigmáticas “SEÑALES DEL MÁS ALLÁ” -En nuestra sección de CRÍMENES, nuestra compañera MERCEDES GARCÍA VELASCO, nos contará la historia de, Fernando González de Castejón: “El aristócrata de la Muerte” -De la mano de nuestro compañero el historiador PEDRO RUBIO, escucharemos en NÉMESIS RADIO, las EFEMERIDES DEL 8 DE OCTUBRE. -En Historias, Cuentos y Leyendas, esta noche nuestro querido amigo JESÚS GARCÍA, nos relatará la Historia de “LA TENEBROSA LEYENDA DE LAS CUEVAS DE ZUGARRAMURDI” -Y en nuestro DEBATE, nuestros contertulios, Miguel Ángel Ruíz, Paco torres,Rubén Cerezo y jose Antonio Martinez, debatirán sobre… “Misión DART, ¿La NASA jugando al billar cósmico?” “El camino es largo y está a punto de comenzar… Compinches de la noche, poneos cómodos, agudizad las orejas que empezamos…” (NEMESIS RADIO NO SE HACE RESPONSABLE DE LOS COMENTARIOS DE LOS CONTERTULIOS E INVITADOS QUE PARTICIPAN EN DICHO PROGRAMA) DIRIGEN Y PRESENTAN ANTONIO PÉREZ Y JOSÉ ANTº MARTÍNEZ

https://youtu.be/7L4JnAuW00k Dillon Francis, I knew by now, was a very skilled sorcerer. I was fasting, and quickly shifting through times, realms, and dimensions as empty as ever as I knew myself to be; these days the shortest fasts seemed the longest—and by the look and feel of things, I was always still the biggest one in the room no matter where I went. ‘Let's see what this guy can do with half a moon.' If I had to go all the way to the dance floor to continue assessing my feelings for this man, it then had to be true that there were feelings at all—and there had to have been. Either way, I didn't care much; I wasn't expecting any outcome and at the very least and most simultaneously, I was there as a fan. I was, after all, as written, Dillon Francis's biggest fan—and though I didn't wear any apparel that made it obviously so, I sought to seek means to an end at some point for the saga I had written. I had hoped to potentially see Dillon's Kayla Lauren in the wings, as I thought surely for there to be one; it would be odd for any man, especially one that traveled as much as he did, to have two dogs of his own. Again, it didn't seem to matter, as I kept it in the forefront of my mind always that a man like Dillon Francis could have anyone he wanted in the world, most certainly anyone in the audience, If a world renowned DJ were ever to do such a thing as to sink as low as to converse with a peasant, such as I; at the very least, I would record, as always, Shazam, as always, and music mine as much as I possibly could, seeing as I wasn't there to dance or to drink at all, but simply just to observe; my soul acted in certain ways in this environment, and I wanted to know why, or what it was exactly that made it do so, quite unforgivingly. Still, there was magic in the air; and whether it was his, or mine, or neither I neither cared to know nor did, but knew it to be—there was just nothing to to do but submit, as I had learned; and rightfully so, as I was coming to him, it allowed him to assert his dominance, which I liked and needed anyhow, in any event. Allowing any potential anyone to become the master was a given; and though not yet at my beauty's peak of perfection, my sexuality was peaking enough for me to explore my innate attraction to him, as I allowed it. I wanted to be controlled, and so although it felt forced and always ridden with guilt, whatever had happened with Sonny had sent me through an infinite loop and then put Kayla Lauren on display at the worst possible time; and though rarely missing a gym day since, I credited my own perseverance for it rather than her sheer luck at the genetic lottery. I would never be a little white girl, and though at my worst they acted as kryptonite to my super powers, whatever they were—I still had whatever it was they didn't, and perhaps not the affluent white man's proper ideal, still something and someone at best, maybe. I hoped to see a girl he might belong to at the show; but then wondered of course who might stay with the dogs. Are you serious? Either way, I was going to write, and record, and align with whatever my purpose was—as regardless of how, it seemed to have something to do with Dillon Francis. I was fasting, of course, but it hadn't been long; I had fulfilled what would be my calorie deficit with a box of plant based Oreos just the night before departing LA full of grief, stress, and chocolate,'for whatever reason; I would have a vegan doughnut at pink box, I decided, before I left Vegas—maybe to make up for the one I had lost in the wind from the oncoming train just days before—I called it God's work, as nothing else could be so comical and devastating at the same time—but was also still craving a doughnut and, still fitting I to everything I owed that I had purchased in an extra small, very comfortably, thought to be allowed one, at one time or another. It didn't matter to me; the white women of the world were made to steal anything I wanted or needed; especially a Sonny or a Dillon Francis, but at the very least I could ease my grief with sweets and work off the stress whenever I was blessed enough to hold gym memberships. I didn't care much, but needed the processing speed of a wired brain and empty stomach to be able to compute whatever might be meant for me to grasp in the matrix; after all, I had once thought of Dillon Francis to be a computer-program himself; the most nonplahable character yet, but still a record breaking synchronicity or rather large group of them, now, in my book. .Red Hot Chili Peppers - These Are The Ways I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophies Maybe it's everything Love is But fucking What? God, I'm lucky; I ought to be I run a Fortune 500 Maybe it's nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophes (Don't forget the apostrophe, Since you'll be forging for me) I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing I should be parking my car in the lobby for washing Don't mind me, It's just natural distrust All turns to dust, And all comes from nothing God, I'm lucky I should be working on something (I should be resting on Sundays, the lord says) But take my time word for it, I'm the one writing it Monday Thru Sunday I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing ‘Just remember, that every girl you see that makes you sad, is the kind of girl he gets—and that's the reason for it.' , I thought to myself. As long as I remembered Instagram models and actresses existed, I couldn't continue to be hurt by it, but I was still, somehow even after 30 years, getting used to being the ugly fat black girl—and since I wasn't Lizzo or Megan The Stallion, I really wasn't anyboth; there was still no place for me at all in the world I wanted to belong to, and I was still as I represented as I would ever be. Maybe tonight I would use my two drink tickets; a sure recipe for disaster, as I had at least almost made it to the 48 hour mark fasting, If I was counting correctly. Perhaps a vegan doughnut could soak up the liquor and shame after leaving the encore at 3 am with nothing but a handful of words and some samples, and perhaps a podcast episode if there could be one. Dua Lipa, Hallucinate What happens after The Daisy swallows Dillon Francis?! Dillon HART Francis. That's a funny name! He's a funny guy. Sometimes. Sometimes. What was I to do? I just kept writing and had nowhere to send it; there was no pitch, there was no plot, and there was certainly no point. Enter The Multiverse and The Festival Project as a whole made up for everything I could have potentially been worth—which was nothing— and I hadn't a clue at all what I was purposed for; I seemed almost psychically robotic, remembering things as they happened within seconds, only enough to slightly offset a rebuttal that at any rate seemed scripted, but wasn't—at least yet. It seemed as if I was in a movie, but to any such ohaycologist of course this could have been considered mania, psychosis, or delusions of grandeur—or even— Dillusions of Granduer. I was funny too, sometimes. I didn't have to think Dillon Francis was shallow—I knew he was shallow, just as such with Sonny or any other man worth his salt, whatever that actually meant. But, just as I had harshly learned anything else, I was starting to understand why, as the smaller and more agile I became, the more I could do with my own body, and as such began to understand why men preferred slim and petite women. I was settling in well to my non-bianary status, and my celibacy—I could do more on my own or with myself than with any partner to date, and with the only human of interest being himself well over 300 pounds, I opted to keep to myself and simply observe human nature for the time being, rather than to take part in it. I wasn't eating, but for the first time in days I had slept, and pushing anything from the future or past far from my mind, I opted to remain present, and aloof; it wouldn't mean much to try to care at all about anything—the more I cared, the more the universe would subtract from my contentedness. Hear Me Now, Nicky Romero “If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.” —William Blake As if this isn't the greatest story ever told. I'm pretty sure that's The Passion of The Christ. This is The Passion Of The Christ. That's just blasphemous. It's The Passion of— Go on. I mean, it is infinite. Well, first there was infinite— —everything— —Everything. Now what. Oh, I know. What is it? It's The Passion of Dillon Francis. Why is that? Because, they're going to kill him. Why? Dillon Francis isn't in the Illuminati! Think twice before going there. But I've got a one track mind. A one track mind In a multitrack world Is a square peg to a round hole And a half-heart To a whole world And nothing's left but to give But to give is to get Just live, Try to forget that it's Infinite What's for dinner dear? I met you here, at the crossroads Like I said I would; And you said you wouldn't come, But here you are: A phenomenon Pardon my awful camaraderie Oh! I forgot all my manners Beg your hard on for hours, Till wilted, like later my flowers Oh, the debachery —better off watching your crotch, Than up on the cross, Like last that I saw you— Stop Look, I just want to watch; I just want to wash all the blood off my hands, From the Hog I put on the bonfire (Forgot what it's called in Oahu) Who are you? I died in a fire, you know In your eyes, Despite how I tried to avoid them They light up at night, sometimes No Divine or desire I'm just here to top off my tires, I'm tired, you know —better off watching, I'm novice Another day at the office, A shot gun in place of deposits, collateral Oh, I'm the asshole— I'm actually quite proud of it This is called something of consciousness, Writing a canon, But I'm quite forgetful; A madman, if you can imagine (Disasterous) Now you attack at your best, I'm un-vested Invested my time in unrest, Don't forget I'm just under your bed We mustn't forget how it started Intensive care Must be intense in the moment When you're Dillon Francis Ah yes. Leave A Trace, CHRCHES Tell me again how you're different; I exist just to wash dishes and watch DJs— I'm lazy; A patronage made just to let the white bitches forget all their privelege; In fact, it's a gift In fact, they're chosen— In fact, I'm just “Isn't” It's miserable Everyone Talks, Neon Trees | Three Pound Chicken Wing, deadmau5 | Paradise, Laidback Luke feat. Bright Lights Let me explain, How it's a vibration; I don't care what body you're in— It's all the same love, If it's all the same love, Then I love you I love you I love you, But I'm in a body It's torturous Let me explain how It's a vibration New word: It's Sapiosexual; Oh, I forgot how you Maddened me once, with your syntax and grammar Ah, now I'm sad as Hell ‘Might as well end it”, I thought to myself If looked as disheveled as I felt They would have stopped me from entering Even at ‘Envy' Let me explain, How I'm the villain This just happens over and over To poor Skrillex And Dillon Francis So much fame and fortune It turns into torture The girls on the rail A pecking order; Ready to devour, And be devoured by The man of the hour “ I might as well end it, then” I said. (But just for attention, I'm stuck in this body, Just rotting Cause nobody wants me at this damn party I've had enough of it I need some water and Probably a therapist Oh, ‘Stream of consciousness' There, I remembered it. Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) Uh huh, I'm no fun at parties [Three knocks on the door] I ignore it (This part is important) [three more knocks] Ought to be something, But still, I assume that it's nothing No guts, and no glory Nobody to love me Uh huh I'm no fun at parties Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) No wonder I used to cut myself “I can feel something” I once sung Now I just run; But— I'm still not small enough For somebody to want me I like to eat every now and again But— I guess that's my problem I just want someone to want me That doesn't remind me of Something i'm not But instead as in awe of my body As I am of Anything other than Tragedy Walk like an Egyptian, The Bangles I excused myself for the lackluster workout—after all, it had been days since my last real meal, and three now since my last solid anything; I had been happy with coconut water and alkaline, trying not to stay too far from the petite I was aiming for.; the plaid dress was a perfect match for the boots I had picked out, astonished that with the nearly 300-lb weight loss, my feet had also happened to shrink down a size and a half—I was dressed to impress, but prepared to be humiliated, and to top that—very eager to Google how long it would take me to get from XS, to Pink Box doughnuts—which was open 24 hours. At least I didn't exactly look like a prostitute—and, as an added bonus, might even could keep the dress for work or interviews; the boots walked nicely, at least for now, and I didn't mind the modesty, as I was already as out of place and forgotten as could be. Rather than opting for a coconut water, I stayed empty; not much was needed to do what I intended, which was almost nothing, and I hoped at the very least my senses and delicate nerves would be somehow put at ease. My iPhone microphone was sensitive enough to catch a song from a car waiting for the light halfway across the street— Freddie's Dead, Curtis Mayfield I crossed at the walk and kept my eyes to the ground, steadying my gait I into an awkward trot as not to appear to confident. I was right on time at the bus stop, and, within moments, not to my suprise, the 103 passed by me, even as I leaned against the stop waving my phone wirh the screen lit. “What a dick.” Perhaps I had fasted too long and worked out too hard; I had indeed left my clothes in a heap of heavy and drenched conglomerate of sweat and tears. I did have a headache, and didn't care much to return yet to my dwelling—in fact, there was something calling me out, and so out I went. Summoning a surprisingly inexpensive Über, I trotted begrudgingly to the WinCo behind me for a Pressed Coconjr Water—the world seemed to dysfunction a little too autonomously when I was running on empty, and with less stored fat supply than before, any triggered ketosis often resulted in a heavy cloud of thoughtless disability; I fumbled around clumsily, breathing shallow in the overstimulation of everything and everyone's aura—but that was exactly what I needed to see: Dillon had always glowed in brilliant shades of purple, but at one time, white—which startled me, especially because it was rare for anyone to glow that way. 120 calories of Coconut water wouldn't quite offset the caloric deficits Raul picked me up in a brand new Tesla, of course—which didn't feel like a coincidence, as nothing did; I had just earlier in the day been thinking of Lim Manuel Miranda, whose face was earned on the cover of a magazine as I purchased my coconut wate; I snapped a picture and hurried along to my whatever it was—instead of spending the next two hours on the bus, I'd get to collect the music from the warmup DJ, and since it was his job I wanted to aquire, it was probably in good taste and good fortune to support anyone whose name I didn't already know. As I arrived to the encore, my eyes were blurred and I was still a little woozy, but the headache was gone and replaced with an all-out bad attitude that didn't exactl come from out of nowhere. As easily distracted as I was, and out of place, I was surprisingly quick to lose self awareness; as I stopped to take a portrait for the festival project, security approached, assuming I was as trashed as anybody else hunched over the trash can—I explained I was working on an art project, and she seemed refreshed—I hadn't realized that how it looked wasn't at all out of the ordinary, remembering where I was, and suddenly, remembering where I was, I remembered the first time I was here, which had inspired the poem Red Velvet, which was lost to time and buried in the rubble of my endlessly infinite Google documents I never received my drink tickets—probably for the best, as k had been tempted this time to actually use them. My life was in actual shambles, with no direction whatsoever—and here I was, on the guestlist at Dillon Francis of all places, with nearly no other place to be. Maybe if I was vigilant I would be front and center at the rail—placing me back in the fandom instead of fiending for a reason or purpose any of this had happened. I'm not mad You're a man And an animal Can't help yourself can you you? Don't be mad at me I'm just a fan And an animal I can't help my attraction I'm second to last, Wirh my hand on the rail And I'm not here to dance (But the music's fantastic) Well, Dillon's front row is always a sight for sore eyes. This is hilarious. I'm laughing on the inside. Just, have a little drink with me. WHY DOES THE DJ KEEP PLAYING SIMMERTIME SADNESS!!! ITS NOT EVEN SUMMER. #SELFIE The club scene had changed much since the days of Red Velvet, but not much, also—vanity had always been the norm, but now more was allowable; at least Fat girls were allowed on the Dance floor without bogarting our way in—but now, the whole of the masses needed photographic evidence of everything; I wasn't in the least interested in taking photos of myself, or anything really hit the discarded rmknce of what had been a night of drinking and shenanigans, whatever the outcome; I never knew, but typically lately had made a habit of throwing away the trash after taking the photos for my project; tonight thiugh, something new caught my eye, as the warm up and caught my ears and I Shazammed every song for the taking—.Recycling bins at the foot of the rails—where, by the way, I had been pushed to front and center, looking quite like someone's Grandmother in my spectacles and too- long- for- the-club-dress—but I was comfortable, hadn't been given any trouble at the door, and, for the time being, was actually next to someone's grandparents. b€NZ (feat syaquis) Front row lit Finna get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We finnafight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shake that bony ass Like we on skid row. Yas Go ahead. Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shame that bony ass Like we on skid row. Where we gonna go In the morning Go ahead. The DJ's pace was picking up, so I knew that it had to be toward the end of his set—would I even make it to close—or did I want to? There wasn't much to see, but there might be more to write. I looked around myself, empathy giving way; now I wasn't myself, or anyone in particular—just a bystander in the crowd, drunk off the placebo of experience ‘What if this was your life every night for the last 10 years?' Uhhhh. I Shazamed another tune— What if this is your life for the next 10 years? Oh Fuxk. I'm getting too old for this. Or… just old enough. The night was moving forward, and so people were drunker, and I probably wouldn't stay at the front row too long; but I was right in the place where the bass hit just right, so it felt good enough— but you couldn't see the DJ's hands. Just so you know, When I'm bored at a show— I take out my notebook Oh no, You're not bothering me; No thanks, I'm not really lonely, I'm just Writing a novel Or album Or movie Or something “Are you in the industry?” The tallish blonde girl next to me asked, progressively more drunk than when she first had appeared next to me at the rail—the front row was now predominately female, which I supposed to be typical—what a life. I just shook my head and continued as I was. For the most part unamused, and even a little bored, as I always was at a club show. I wasn't behind the decks, so I wasn't really anywhere at all. Maybe it was the bass, but I had suddenly stopped craving a doughnut, however by 4 am I was probably just about going to be ready for one; Or half dozen, cause— And with a flash of steam and sweat, the man of the hour appeared, but I found it hard to lift my head— I probably should step back from this front row… The energy in your front row is everything; at least to a DJ like me… Okay Gerald, I'll get you a table— you can't tell anyone you're a piñata. Okay ?' okay. GERALD has permanently shapeshifted into a Human being. (To a hot girl) I'M ACTUALLY A PIÑATA. (Drunken hot girl) WHAT? I'M A PIÑATA! WHAT?! GERALD, NO. WHAT? She's drunk! So?! i told you already—don't tell anyone you're using magic—-or I'm using magic— But—Dillon—magic is real! You said so! I know that!!! DFR, Dillon Francis God dammit, I almost forgot about this album. No you didnt. (Shapeshifting) (Spellcasting) (Other Magic shit) Yeah, but I forgot about the album. Yeah, I bet SAVAGE>< Freek In The Ghetto, Skrillex No. No. No. Oh fuck, where is Skrillex? Oh yeah, huh?! OH YEAH, huh. — What the everlivingFUCK. Oh shit. WHAT are you doing? Just playing a game. WHATDIDITELLYOU— Oh shit, she's mad— Run, dude— Run!! OH SHIT. I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU Well— Well. Well, well, well— Suddenly, it seemed everyone in the front row Was alt right- and as always, all the hot white girls moved into VIP—it was a tired game; I would always be black, and I would always be ugly, and so it hurt less than made me think twice or three times who I was dealing with. I just so happened to look over my shoulder and be somewhat attracted to the girl behind me. ‘'maybe it's time to start dating women' …but that would never work. GERALD. WHAT?! I thought I told you— I know, I know— GIMME ANOTHER SHOT. What, Dillon—! I thought you weren't DRINKING! Gerald! It's me! I know it's you. No! It's me! Ū! SUPACREE?! NO' SHH! I'm Ū!!! Where's / Dillon Francis?! WHERE IS SKRILLEX? He's in your heart. Oh shit. I gave that to Dillon Francis. Well, then, you have your answer. Fuxk. Let it happen. Tame Impala Man, I love that kid. I love that kid. So what happened? It's a long story. —NOT THE TIME MACHINE —NOT THE BOX GET IN THE TIME MACHINE! NOT THE BOX—!!!!! UGH, not Dillon Francis. (Yes, Dillon Francis.) What's his deal?! Who's what, him!!? YES. Satan. Hm. Whats your deal with Dillon Francis? What?! I don't have a deal with Dillon Francis… What?! YOU DONT!? NO! Why not? Cause! Being honest..? The devil, being honest: (Psh) I owe him money. What!! Satan, no way. Yes way! Hod that happen?' Lost a bet. Damn. This set is getting good. What are you watching? Gerald's world The legend of supacree Enter the multiverse The infinite Skrillifiles What? Uh oh. What ñ 5) 3 time space time continuums just shattered CONFETTI BLAST OH SHIT, it just shattered twice. We gotta go. Where we going To the planet Which—ducking planet. The one with the ducks. QUACK oh shit. A duck DUCK DUCK!! DUCK—DUCK—DUCK— Damn, this game really has gone on forever— ITS EDM O CLOCK, BITCH—! GET UP!! Mmm. We better go. Yes. We better go ALI and AVICII are very, very drunk in Heaven. THEY FINALLY MADE IT?! —of course we made it! —We knew the way! But of course: GOD No, go back. WHAT ARE YOU serious? MARTY! MARTY MCFLY! DAWG, it's good to see you! Wait. What the Fuxk dimension is THIS?' It's the one with Dillon Francis That's— a —FUCK. Dillon Francis is in a lot of dimensions. Yeah but this is the right one. How do you know? That was the theme song for the TV show. What TV show? Damn. I'm fucked up. What! I thought you didn't drink. I don't I'm an empath. MEANWHILE SUPACREE and SUNNÍ BLŪ have collided in a para-dimensional reality OH, SHIT, it's ME OH FUCK—DAMN. Now what do we do? Drugs? Drugs. Yeaaaaaaaah. One More Time, Daft Punk My son's favorite song. It was the second time it had played today, and the first time it wasn't nearly as bad as the second — now i was glad for the cloud of cold steam, I couldn't hide my upset as much as I wanted to ‘'Just keep writing' Okay. They're trying to kill me With white girls, And memories And it just might work I'm trying to write myself out the box Oh my god And it just my work I'm trying to get lost But I'm all out of sauce This is not gonna work I see you went and hopped on the band wagon Somebody get that dragon. /$3/ Huh That's how much I paid for this You—what?! I paid $3 You paid $3 Yes. For this. Yes. I'm gonna kill you. Ū VS DILLON FRANCIS Uh oh. Here it goes. FIGHT. Oh shit. I've been waiting all season for this. Here it goes. KO. SUPACREE WINS. What. It's over already? This isn't possible. GAME OVER. What the Fuxk. This is insane. No fucking way #%%]!! Wait. What the fuck I thought it was Ū VS Dillon Francisz YeH! It was. What the fuck. So how did SUPACREE win? Huh. Wait, did anybody ever find Skrillex? Oh, My God. Just then, someone threw a Red Bull and it hit my foot enough that it actually distracted me from writing— THROW ANOTHER ONE! No, dont! Why, what's wrong? I have to take back these boots in the morning. Oh good, Jesus made it. What Jesus who! JESÚS CHRIST! What? What do you want? I didn't think you'd come! I had to. I thought you were on vacation. Exactly. Listen, Dillon—I have to tell you something. Uh huh. This isn't going to be easy. Chak Chel, what is it? I need you to listen. Uh, I'm kinda busy. It was at this point— Really, this point—? I had to stop and asses for myself what was really happening. I was writing up a storm, and it did seem to happen automatically, as it had before. I'm a looper Open the coupe up, Stupid, Who did you think I is This is the business Go listen to Skrillex And KILL YOURSELF Huh? JUST KILL YOURSELF. Ah, okay—but not because you said so. Listen, I'm finna spit this quick while you spin it Spit in it: clitoris I'm different bitch After this dinner I'm still in the kitchen With dishes, bitch Till it glistens While I listen To excision (I'm just kidding) Dammit, this is a lot of Skrillex What exactly did you say about Dillon Francis not being in the Illuminati First of all, the Illuminati isn't real. SUPACREE How did you get famous? SUNNÍ BLŪ I'm in the Illuminati. You? SUPACREE I AM the Illuminati. SUNNÍ BLŪ NIce. [Cheers] Hey. Hey. Anybody seen Gerald? … … … Zzz. Damn. Nodding off On the clock I'm on the floor, And yo this shit is toxic Turn the knob a bit; My foot starting to throb again I'm looking hot like Somebody's mom again Damn. I'm getting off On the wrong kind of drama This isn't long at all But it's all wrong, ya'll I dont belong here Lost My Mind, Alison Wonderland OHH THIS SHIT BE HITTING DIFFERENT It did hit different. Someone either vomited or spilled the rest of their drink on me, which took me out of my moment: the music was telling a story, at least to me—and I didn't feel like feeling right then, but it was all I could do ñ. I was surprised that I was still standing at all, Ugh. I don't understand my feelings. This was deeper than it seemed, bigger than it — Ugh. What do you want from me? All I've got is applause, and a cough drop It's just another night at the office I'm somebody's mom In a long lost thought; All zeros on the clock In a tick tock, or two, when you're off And you're long gone, I'll still be wandering Stuck at the mall Till the bus comes —trying to write myself out the box I'm a lost soul I'm a club kid I'm a lost cause But i'll stay till the end, Cause last time I walked off And my thoughts wandered back to the dance floor All that I wanted is A penny for gods thoughts And now she keeps dropping them —and more often then not, She's dropping the knowledge That I'm in the wrong, For just wanting you: But what can I do; I just want to be like you, and less of a primate Something saw right through me, and I felt invisible—now a doughnut sounded good, and I hoped that they would have vegan this early in the morning. There was about a half hour left of the set, and I was tired; I would stay until the end of the set, for some reason—-but now — Oh shit. Remember that one time/— Which TIME One time, I lost my mind and drove off of a bridge. That did happen. That did happen. I had at one point been unwell, and so— ugh, that's it Some smelly kid squeezed his way in between me and the next person over,,probably on molly or something—meanwhile the young white supremacists club of America was codeswitching up a storm, me pretending not to notice, but— he was dancing a little too hard, hitting me a little too much—and clearly not giving any kind of fuck: it wouldn't be my first panic attack on the dance floor, but it probably would be my last; it was the same story over and over again— only the next generation had even less of a Fuxk than I ever did. I left the dance floor and opted to stand behind VIP — DID ANYONE EVER FIND SKRILLEX? Wrf. He died. WHAT. No seriously, I watched him die. Okay. Then what? Then he got up. That's a twist. Now I can't sleep. That sounds traumatic. It was traumatic. How long's it been? I HAVE NOT SLEPT IN ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND YEARS. Great, the vampires are here, too. Good. I've been craving Vegan blood. Ihj. What. It's better for you. God dammit, Dillon Francis Why does this always happen? I can't remember half of what I did Before I napped, and landed back in this dimension Now, I'll give you my attention for a minute— But I'm worried about Skrillex Didnt I mention i needed permission (Or just a perscription) To get this ignition I didn't even want to come to this I hate this club It's filled will memories You won't remember me For half another century Cause I can't finish writing I'm too busy riding The bus To work And crying all the time Cause therapy doesn't And I used to love this stuff, but UHH 1–2–3 : BUN UP THE DANCE This is a lot of Skrillex. Is he okay? Is Dillon Francis Okay!? They're both okay. They're both millionaires. They'll be fine. huayayay!!!!. Fuck this. Fuck this. Alright, I'm leaving. Are we eating? If it's vegan. Ah man. What just happened? I'm definitely in the Illuminati. I have a tendency To pretend that You're friends with me Speeded I get it's a Fantasy But I had to see you In the flesh I digress I picture you're just as Obsessed with me Guess I'd regret to suggest that You should have Sex with me Directly but it's nestled in my head In the red Would you get into bed with me After everything I said Or I wrote, and you read Or am I just Better off dead Youre so far ahead, And I get that it's Just a test At best but I've yet to digest Breakfast Caught in a web of Heaven or or empathy Trying to empty my envy For whoever's holding your hand Instead of me Please, Forgive me— But, If you're reading this, It's too late; All triple sixes and Tipping the sinners With witless intentions Wet at the back of the ears But I've known you for years And I said I'd be here; I remembered the dress {Enter The Multiverse}

https://youtu.be/7L4JnAuW00k Dillon Francis, I knew by now, was a very skilled sorcerer. I was fasting, and quickly shifting through times, realms, and dimensions as empty as ever as I knew myself to be; these days the shortest fasts seemed the longest—and by the look and feel of things, I was always still the biggest one in the room no matter where I went. ‘Let's see what this guy can do with half a moon.' If I had to go all the way to the dance floor to continue assessing my feelings for this man, it then had to be true that there were feelings at all—and there had to have been. Either way, I didn't care much; I wasn't expecting any outcome and at the very least and most simultaneously, I was there as a fan. I was, after all, as written, Dillon Francis's biggest fan—and though I didn't wear any apparel that made it obviously so, I sought to seek means to an end at some point for the saga I had written. I had hoped to potentially see Dillon's Kayla Lauren in the wings, as I thought surely for there to be one; it would be odd for any man, especially one that traveled as much as he did, to have two dogs of his own. Again, it didn't seem to matter, as I kept it in the forefront of my mind always that a man like Dillon Francis could have anyone he wanted in the world, most certainly anyone in the audience, If a world renowned DJ were ever to do such a thing as to sink as low as to converse with a peasant, such as I; at the very least, I would record, as always, Shazam, as always, and music mine as much as I possibly could, seeing as I wasn't there to dance or to drink at all, but simply just to observe; my soul acted in certain ways in this environment, and I wanted to know why, or what it was exactly that made it do so, quite unforgivingly. Still, there was magic in the air; and whether it was his, or mine, or neither I neither cared to know nor did, but knew it to be—there was just nothing to to do but submit, as I had learned; and rightfully so, as I was coming to him, it allowed him to assert his dominance, which I liked and needed anyhow, in any event. Allowing any potential anyone to become the master was a given; and though not yet at my beauty's peak of perfection, my sexuality was peaking enough for me to explore my innate attraction to him, as I allowed it. I wanted to be controlled, and so although it felt forced and always ridden with guilt, whatever had happened with Sonny had sent me through an infinite loop and then put Kayla Lauren on display at the worst possible time; and though rarely missing a gym day since, I credited my own perseverance for it rather than her sheer luck at the genetic lottery. I would never be a little white girl, and though at my worst they acted as kryptonite to my super powers, whatever they were—I still had whatever it was they didn't, and perhaps not the affluent white man's proper ideal, still something and someone at best, maybe. I hoped to see a girl he might belong to at the show; but then wondered of course who might stay with the dogs. Are you serious? Either way, I was going to write, and record, and align with whatever my purpose was—as regardless of how, it seemed to have something to do with Dillon Francis. I was fasting, of course, but it hadn't been long; I had fulfilled what would be my calorie deficit with a box of plant based Oreos just the night before departing LA full of grief, stress, and chocolate,'for whatever reason; I would have a vegan doughnut at pink box, I decided, before I left Vegas—maybe to make up for the one I had lost in the wind from the oncoming train just days before—I called it God's work, as nothing else could be so comical and devastating at the same time—but was also still craving a doughnut and, still fitting I to everything I owed that I had purchased in an extra small, very comfortably, thought to be allowed one, at one time or another. It didn't matter to me; the white women of the world were made to steal anything I wanted or needed; especially a Sonny or a Dillon Francis, but at the very least I could ease my grief with sweets and work off the stress whenever I was blessed enough to hold gym memberships. I didn't care much, but needed the processing speed of a wired brain and empty stomach to be able to compute whatever might be meant for me to grasp in the matrix; after all, I had once thought of Dillon Francis to be a computer-program himself; the most nonplahable character yet, but still a record breaking synchronicity or rather large group of them, now, in my book. .Red Hot Chili Peppers - These Are The Ways I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophies Maybe it's everything Love is But fucking What? God, I'm lucky; I ought to be I run a Fortune 500 Maybe it's nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophes (Don't forget the apostrophe, Since you'll be forging for me) I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing I should be parking my car in the lobby for washing Don't mind me, It's just natural distrust All turns to dust, And all comes from nothing God, I'm lucky I should be working on something (I should be resting on Sundays, the lord says) But take my time word for it, I'm the one writing it Monday Thru Sunday I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing ‘Just remember, that every girl you see that makes you sad, is the kind of girl he gets—and that's the reason for it.' , I thought to myself. As long as I remembered Instagram models and actresses existed, I couldn't continue to be hurt by it, but I was still, somehow even after 30 years, getting used to being the ugly fat black girl—and since I wasn't Lizzo or Megan The Stallion, I really wasn't anyboth; there was still no place for me at all in the world I wanted to belong to, and I was still as I represented as I would ever be. Maybe tonight I would use my two drink tickets; a sure recipe for disaster, as I had at least almost made it to the 48 hour mark fasting, If I was counting correctly. Perhaps a vegan doughnut could soak up the liquor and shame after leaving the encore at 3 am with nothing but a handful of words and some samples, and perhaps a podcast episode if there could be one. Dua Lipa, Hallucinate What happens after The Daisy swallows Dillon Francis?! Dillon HART Francis. That's a funny name! He's a funny guy. Sometimes. Sometimes. What was I to do? I just kept writing and had nowhere to send it; there was no pitch, there was no plot, and there was certainly no point. Enter The Multiverse and The Festival Project as a whole made up for everything I could have potentially been worth—which was nothing— and I hadn't a clue at all what I was purposed for; I seemed almost psychically robotic, remembering things as they happened within seconds, only enough to slightly offset a rebuttal that at any rate seemed scripted, but wasn't—at least yet. It seemed as if I was in a movie, but to any such ohaycologist of course this could have been considered mania, psychosis, or delusions of grandeur—or even— Dillusions of Granduer. I was funny too, sometimes. I didn't have to think Dillon Francis was shallow—I knew he was shallow, just as such with Sonny or any other man worth his salt, whatever that actually meant. But, just as I had harshly learned anything else, I was starting to understand why, as the smaller and more agile I became, the more I could do with my own body, and as such began to understand why men preferred slim and petite women. I was settling in well to my non-bianary status, and my celibacy—I could do more on my own or with myself than with any partner to date, and with the only human of interest being himself well over 300 pounds, I opted to keep to myself and simply observe human nature for the time being, rather than to take part in it. I wasn't eating, but for the first time in days I had slept, and pushing anything from the future or past far from my mind, I opted to remain present, and aloof; it wouldn't mean much to try to care at all about anything—the more I cared, the more the universe would subtract from my contentedness. Hear Me Now, Nicky Romero “If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.” —William Blake As if this isn't the greatest story ever told. I'm pretty sure that's The Passion of The Christ. This is The Passion Of The Christ. That's just blasphemous. It's The Passion of— Go on. I mean, it is infinite. Well, first there was infinite— —everything— —Everything. Now what. Oh, I know. What is it? It's The Passion of Dillon Francis. Why is that? Because, they're going to kill him. Why? Dillon Francis isn't in the Illuminati! Think twice before going there. But I've got a one track mind. A one track mind In a multitrack world Is a square peg to a round hole And a half-heart To a whole world And nothing's left but to give But to give is to get Just live, Try to forget that it's Infinite What's for dinner dear? I met you here, at the crossroads Like I said I would; And you said you wouldn't come, But here you are: A phenomenon Pardon my awful camaraderie Oh! I forgot all my manners Beg your hard on for hours, Till wilted, like later my flowers Oh, the debachery —better off watching your crotch, Than up on the cross, Like last that I saw you— Stop Look, I just want to watch; I just want to wash all the blood off my hands, From the Hog I put on the bonfire (Forgot what it's called in Oahu) Who are you? I died in a fire, you know In your eyes, Despite how I tried to avoid them They light up at night, sometimes No Divine or desire I'm just here to top off my tires, I'm tired, you know —better off watching, I'm novice Another day at the office, A shot gun in place of deposits, collateral Oh, I'm the asshole— I'm actually quite proud of it This is called something of consciousness, Writing a canon, But I'm quite forgetful; A madman, if you can imagine (Disasterous) Now you attack at your best, I'm un-vested Invested my time in unrest, Don't forget I'm just under your bed We mustn't forget how it started Intensive care Must be intense in the moment When you're Dillon Francis Ah yes. Leave A Trace, CHRCHES Tell me again how you're different; I exist just to wash dishes and watch DJs— I'm lazy; A patronage made just to let the white bitches forget all their privelege; In fact, it's a gift In fact, they're chosen— In fact, I'm just “Isn't” It's miserable Everyone Talks, Neon Trees | Three Pound Chicken Wing, deadmau5 | Paradise, Laidback Luke feat. Bright Lights Let me explain, How it's a vibration; I don't care what body you're in— It's all the same love, If it's all the same love, Then I love you I love you I love you, But I'm in a body It's torturous Let me explain how It's a vibration New word: It's Sapiosexual; Oh, I forgot how you Maddened me once, with your syntax and grammar Ah, now I'm sad as Hell ‘Might as well end it”, I thought to myself If looked as disheveled as I felt They would have stopped me from entering Even at ‘Envy' Let me explain, How I'm the villain This just happens over and over To poor Skrillex And Dillon Francis So much fame and fortune It turns into torture The girls on the rail A pecking order; Ready to devour, And be devoured by The man of the hour “ I might as well end it, then” I said. (But just for attention, I'm stuck in this body, Just rotting Cause nobody wants me at this damn party I've had enough of it I need some water and Probably a therapist Oh, ‘Stream of consciousness' There, I remembered it. Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) Uh huh, I'm no fun at parties [Three knocks on the door] I ignore it (This part is important) [three more knocks] Ought to be something, But still, I assume that it's nothing No guts, and no glory Nobody to love me Uh huh I'm no fun at parties Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) No wonder I used to cut myself “I can feel something” I once sung Now I just run; But— I'm still not small enough For somebody to want me I like to eat every now and again But— I guess that's my problem I just want someone to want me That doesn't remind me of Something i'm not But instead as in awe of my body As I am of Anything other than Tragedy Walk like an Egyptian, The Bangles I excused myself for the lackluster workout—after all, it had been days since my last real meal, and three now since my last solid anything; I had been happy with coconut water and alkaline, trying not to stay too far from the petite I was aiming for.; the plaid dress was a perfect match for the boots I had picked out, astonished that with the nearly 300-lb weight loss, my feet had also happened to shrink down a size and a half—I was dressed to impress, but prepared to be humiliated, and to top that—very eager to Google how long it would take me to get from XS, to Pink Box doughnuts—which was open 24 hours. At least I didn't exactly look like a prostitute—and, as an added bonus, might even could keep the dress for work or interviews; the boots walked nicely, at least for now, and I didn't mind the modesty, as I was already as out of place and forgotten as could be. Rather than opting for a coconut water, I stayed empty; not much was needed to do what I intended, which was almost nothing, and I hoped at the very least my senses and delicate nerves would be somehow put at ease. My iPhone microphone was sensitive enough to catch a song from a car waiting for the light halfway across the street— Freddie's Dead, Curtis Mayfield I crossed at the walk and kept my eyes to the ground, steadying my gait I into an awkward trot as not to appear to confident. I was right on time at the bus stop, and, within moments, not to my suprise, the 103 passed by me, even as I leaned against the stop waving my phone wirh the screen lit. “What a dick.” Perhaps I had fasted too long and worked out too hard; I had indeed left my clothes in a heap of heavy and drenched conglomerate of sweat and tears. I did have a headache, and didn't care much to return yet to my dwelling—in fact, there was something calling me out, and so out I went. Summoning a surprisingly inexpensive Über, I trotted begrudgingly to the WinCo behind me for a Pressed Coconjr Water—the world seemed to dysfunction a little too autonomously when I was running on empty, and with less stored fat supply than before, any triggered ketosis often resulted in a heavy cloud of thoughtless disability; I fumbled around clumsily, breathing shallow in the overstimulation of everything and everyone's aura—but that was exactly what I needed to see: Dillon had always glowed in brilliant shades of purple, but at one time, white—which startled me, especially because it was rare for anyone to glow that way. 120 calories of Coconut water wouldn't quite offset the caloric deficits Raul picked me up in a brand new Tesla, of course—which didn't feel like a coincidence, as nothing did; I had just earlier in the day been thinking of Lim Manuel Miranda, whose face was earned on the cover of a magazine as I purchased my coconut wate; I snapped a picture and hurried along to my whatever it was—instead of spending the next two hours on the bus, I'd get to collect the music from the warmup DJ, and since it was his job I wanted to aquire, it was probably in good taste and good fortune to support anyone whose name I didn't already know. As I arrived to the encore, my eyes were blurred and I was still a little woozy, but the headache was gone and replaced with an all-out bad attitude that didn't exactl come from out of nowhere. As easily distracted as I was, and out of place, I was surprisingly quick to lose self awareness; as I stopped to take a portrait for the festival project, security approached, assuming I was as trashed as anybody else hunched over the trash can—I explained I was working on an art project, and she seemed refreshed—I hadn't realized that how it looked wasn't at all out of the ordinary, remembering where I was, and suddenly, remembering where I was, I remembered the first time I was here, which had inspired the poem Red Velvet, which was lost to time and buried in the rubble of my endlessly infinite Google documents I never received my drink tickets—probably for the best, as k had been tempted this time to actually use them. My life was in actual shambles, with no direction whatsoever—and here I was, on the guestlist at Dillon Francis of all places, with nearly no other place to be. Maybe if I was vigilant I would be front and center at the rail—placing me back in the fandom instead of fiending for a reason or purpose any of this had happened. I'm not mad You're a man And an animal Can't help yourself can you you? Don't be mad at me I'm just a fan And an animal I can't help my attraction I'm second to last, Wirh my hand on the rail And I'm not here to dance (But the music's fantastic) Well, Dillon's front row is always a sight for sore eyes. This is hilarious. I'm laughing on the inside. Just, have a little drink with me. WHY DOES THE DJ KEEP PLAYING SIMMERTIME SADNESS!!! ITS NOT EVEN SUMMER. #SELFIE The club scene had changed much since the days of Red Velvet, but not much, also—vanity had always been the norm, but now more was allowable; at least Fat girls were allowed on the Dance floor without bogarting our way in—but now, the whole of the masses needed photographic evidence of everything; I wasn't in the least interested in taking photos of myself, or anything really hit the discarded rmknce of what had been a night of drinking and shenanigans, whatever the outcome; I never knew, but typically lately had made a habit of throwing away the trash after taking the photos for my project; tonight thiugh, something new caught my eye, as the warm up and caught my ears and I Shazammed every song for the taking—.Recycling bins at the foot of the rails—where, by the way, I had been pushed to front and center, looking quite like someone's Grandmother in my spectacles and too- long- for- the-club-dress—but I was comfortable, hadn't been given any trouble at the door, and, for the time being, was actually next to someone's grandparents. b€NZ (feat syaquis) Front row lit Finna get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We finnafight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shake that bony ass Like we on skid row. Yas Go ahead. Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shame that bony ass Like we on skid row. Where we gonna go In the morning Go ahead. The DJ's pace was picking up, so I knew that it had to be toward the end of his set—would I even make it to close—or did I want to? There wasn't much to see, but there might be more to write. I looked around myself, empathy giving way; now I wasn't myself, or anyone in particular—just a bystander in the crowd, drunk off the placebo of experience ‘What if this was your life every night for the last 10 years?' Uhhhh. I Shazamed another tune— What if this is your life for the next 10 years? Oh Fuxk. I'm getting too old for this. Or… just old enough. The night was moving forward, and so people were drunker, and I probably wouldn't stay at the front row too long; but I was right in the place where the bass hit just right, so it felt good enough— but you couldn't see the DJ's hands. Just so you know, When I'm bored at a show— I take out my notebook Oh no, You're not bothering me; No thanks, I'm not really lonely, I'm just Writing a novel Or album Or movie Or something “Are you in the industry?” The tallish blonde girl next to me asked, progressively more drunk than when she first had appeared next to me at the rail—the front row was now predominately female, which I supposed to be typical—what a life. I just shook my head and continued as I was. For the most part unamused, and even a little bored, as I always was at a club show. I wasn't behind the decks, so I wasn't really anywhere at all. Maybe it was the bass, but I had suddenly stopped craving a doughnut, however by 4 am I was probably just about going to be ready for one; Or half dozen, cause— And with a flash of steam and sweat, the man of the hour appeared, but I found it hard to lift my head— I probably should step back from this front row… The energy in your front row is everything; at least to a DJ like me… Okay Gerald, I'll get you a table— you can't tell anyone you're a piñata. Okay ?' okay. GERALD has permanently shapeshifted into a Human being. (To a hot girl) I'M ACTUALLY A PIÑATA. (Drunken hot girl) WHAT? I'M A PIÑATA! WHAT?! GERALD, NO. WHAT? She's drunk! So?! i told you already—don't tell anyone you're using magic—-or I'm using magic— But—Dillon—magic is real! You said so! I know that!!! DFR, Dillon Francis God dammit, I almost forgot about this album. No you didnt. (Shapeshifting) (Spellcasting) (Other Magic shit) Yeah, but I forgot about the album. Yeah, I bet SAVAGE>< Freek In The Ghetto, Skrillex No. No. No. Oh fuck, where is Skrillex? Oh yeah, huh?! OH YEAH, huh. — What the everlivingFUCK. Oh shit. WHAT are you doing? Just playing a game. WHATDIDITELLYOU— Oh shit, she's mad— Run, dude— Run!! OH SHIT. I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU Well— Well. Well, well, well— Suddenly, it seemed everyone in the front row Was alt right- and as always, all the hot white girls moved into VIP—it was a tired game; I would always be black, and I would always be ugly, and so it hurt less than made me think twice or three times who I was dealing with. I just so happened to look over my shoulder and be somewhat attracted to the girl behind me. ‘'maybe it's time to start dating women' …but that would never work. GERALD. WHAT?! I thought I told you— I know, I know— GIMME ANOTHER SHOT. What, Dillon—! I thought you weren't DRINKING! Gerald! It's me! I know it's you. No! It's me! Ū! SUPACREE?! NO' SHH! I'm Ū!!! Where's / Dillon Francis?! WHERE IS SKRILLEX? He's in your heart. Oh shit. I gave that to Dillon Francis. Well, then, you have your answer. Fuxk. Let it happen. Tame Impala Man, I love that kid. I love that kid. So what happened? It's a long story. —NOT THE TIME MACHINE —NOT THE BOX GET IN THE TIME MACHINE! NOT THE BOX—!!!!! UGH, not Dillon Francis. (Yes, Dillon Francis.) What's his deal?! Who's what, him!!? YES. Satan. Hm. Whats your deal with Dillon Francis? What?! I don't have a deal with Dillon Francis… What?! YOU DONT!? NO! Why not? Cause! Being honest..? The devil, being honest: (Psh) I owe him money. What!! Satan, no way. Yes way! Hod that happen?' Lost a bet. Damn. This set is getting good. What are you watching? Gerald's world The legend of supacree Enter the multiverse The infinite Skrillifiles What? Uh oh. What ñ 5) 3 time space time continuums just shattered CONFETTI BLAST OH SHIT, it just shattered twice. We gotta go. Where we going To the planet Which—ducking planet. The one with the ducks. QUACK oh shit. A duck DUCK DUCK!! DUCK—DUCK—DUCK— Damn, this game really has gone on forever— ITS EDM O CLOCK, BITCH—! GET UP!! Mmm. We better go. Yes. We better go ALI and AVICII are very, very drunk in Heaven. THEY FINALLY MADE IT?! —of course we made it! —We knew the way! But of course: GOD No, go back. WHAT ARE YOU serious? MARTY! MARTY MCFLY! DAWG, it's good to see you! Wait. What the Fuxk dimension is THIS?' It's the one with Dillon Francis That's— a —FUCK. Dillon Francis is in a lot of dimensions. Yeah but this is the right one. How do you know? That was the theme song for the TV show. What TV show? Damn. I'm fucked up. What! I thought you didn't drink. I don't I'm an empath. MEANWHILE SUPACREE and SUNNÍ BLŪ have collided in a para-dimensional reality OH, SHIT, it's ME OH FUCK—DAMN. Now what do we do? Drugs? Drugs. Yeaaaaaaaah. One More Time, Daft Punk My son's favorite song. It was the second time it had played today, and the first time it wasn't nearly as bad as the second — now i was glad for the cloud of cold steam, I couldn't hide my upset as much as I wanted to ‘'Just keep writing' Okay. They're trying to kill me With white girls, And memories And it just might work I'm trying to write myself out the box Oh my god And it just my work I'm trying to get lost But I'm all out of sauce This is not gonna work I see you went and hopped on the band wagon Somebody get that dragon. /$3/ Huh That's how much I paid for this You—what?! I paid $3 You paid $3 Yes. For this. Yes. I'm gonna kill you. Ū VS DILLON FRANCIS Uh oh. Here it goes. FIGHT. Oh shit. I've been waiting all season for this. Here it goes. KO. SUPACREE WINS. What. It's over already? This isn't possible. GAME OVER. What the Fuxk. This is insane. No fucking way #%%]!! Wait. What the fuck I thought it was Ū VS Dillon Francisz YeH! It was. What the fuck. So how did SUPACREE win? Huh. Wait, did anybody ever find Skrillex? Oh, My God. Just then, someone threw a Red Bull and it hit my foot enough that it actually distracted me from writing— THROW ANOTHER ONE! No, dont! Why, what's wrong? I have to take back these boots in the morning. Oh good, Jesus made it. What Jesus who! JESÚS CHRIST! What? What do you want? I didn't think you'd come! I had to. I thought you were on vacation. Exactly. Listen, Dillon—I have to tell you something. Uh huh. This isn't going to be easy. Chak Chel, what is it? I need you to listen. Uh, I'm kinda busy. It was at this point— Really, this point—? I had to stop and asses for myself what was really happening. I was writing up a storm, and it did seem to happen automatically, as it had before. I'm a looper Open the coupe up, Stupid, Who did you think I is This is the business Go listen to Skrillex And KILL YOURSELF Huh? JUST KILL YOURSELF. Ah, okay—but not because you said so. Listen, I'm finna spit this quick while you spin it Spit in it: clitoris I'm different bitch After this dinner I'm still in the kitchen With dishes, bitch Till it glistens While I listen To excision (I'm just kidding) Dammit, this is a lot of Skrillex What exactly did you say about Dillon Francis not being in the Illuminati First of all, the Illuminati isn't real. SUPACREE How did you get famous? SUNNÍ BLŪ I'm in the Illuminati. You? SUPACREE I AM the Illuminati. SUNNÍ BLŪ NIce. [Cheers] Hey. Hey. Anybody seen Gerald? … … … Zzz. Damn. Nodding off On the clock I'm on the floor, And yo this shit is toxic Turn the knob a bit; My foot starting to throb again I'm looking hot like Somebody's mom again Damn. I'm getting off On the wrong kind of drama This isn't long at all But it's all wrong, ya'll I dont belong here Lost My Mind, Alison Wonderland OHH THIS SHIT BE HITTING DIFFERENT It did hit different. Someone either vomited or spilled the rest of their drink on me, which took me out of my moment: the music was telling a story, at least to me—and I didn't feel like feeling right then, but it was all I could do ñ. I was surprised that I was still standing at all, Ugh. I don't understand my feelings. This was deeper than it seemed, bigger than it — Ugh. What do you want from me? All I've got is applause, and a cough drop It's just another night at the office I'm somebody's mom In a long lost thought; All zeros on the clock In a tick tock, or two, when you're off And you're long gone, I'll still be wandering Stuck at the mall Till the bus comes —trying to write myself out the box I'm a lost soul I'm a club kid I'm a lost cause But i'll stay till the end, Cause last time I walked off And my thoughts wandered back to the dance floor All that I wanted is A penny for gods thoughts And now she keeps dropping them —and more often then not, She's dropping the knowledge That I'm in the wrong, For just wanting you: But what can I do; I just want to be like you, and less of a primate Something saw right through me, and I felt invisible—now a doughnut sounded good, and I hoped that they would have vegan this early in the morning. There was about a half hour left of the set, and I was tired; I would stay until the end of the set, for some reason—-but now — Oh shit. Remember that one time/— Which TIME One time, I lost my mind and drove off of a bridge. That did happen. That did happen. I had at one point been unwell, and so— ugh, that's it Some smelly kid squeezed his way in between me and the next person over,,probably on molly or something—meanwhile the young white supremacists club of America was codeswitching up a storm, me pretending not to notice, but— he was dancing a little too hard, hitting me a little too much—and clearly not giving any kind of fuck: it wouldn't be my first panic attack on the dance floor, but it probably would be my last; it was the same story over and over again— only the next generation had even less of a Fuxk than I ever did. I left the dance floor and opted to stand behind VIP — DID ANYONE EVER FIND SKRILLEX? Wrf. He died. WHAT. No seriously, I watched him die. Okay. Then what? Then he got up. That's a twist. Now I can't sleep. That sounds traumatic. It was traumatic. How long's it been? I HAVE NOT SLEPT IN ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND YEARS. Great, the vampires are here, too. Good. I've been craving Vegan blood. Ihj. What. It's better for you. God dammit, Dillon Francis Why does this always happen? I can't remember half of what I did Before I napped, and landed back in this dimension Now, I'll give you my attention for a minute— But I'm worried about Skrillex Didnt I mention i needed permission (Or just a perscription) To get this ignition I didn't even want to come to this I hate this club It's filled will memories You won't remember me For half another century Cause I can't finish writing I'm too busy riding The bus To work And crying all the time Cause therapy doesn't And I used to love this stuff, but UHH 1–2–3 : BUN UP THE DANCE This is a lot of Skrillex. Is he okay? Is Dillon Francis Okay!? They're both okay. They're both millionaires. They'll be fine. huayayay!!!!. Fuck this. Fuck this. Alright, I'm leaving. Are we eating? If it's vegan. Ah man. What just happened? I'm definitely in the Illuminati. I have a tendency To pretend that You're friends with me Speeded I get it's a Fantasy But I had to see you In the flesh I digress I picture you're just as Obsessed with me Guess I'd regret to suggest that You should have Sex with me Directly but it's nestled in my head In the red Would you get into bed with me After everything I said Or I wrote, and you read Or am I just Better off dead Youre so far ahead, And I get that it's Just a test At best but I've yet to digest Breakfast Caught in a web of Heaven or or empathy Trying to empty my envy For whoever's holding your hand Instead of me Please, Forgive me— But, If you're reading this, It's too late; All triple sixes and Tipping the sinners With witless intentions Wet at the back of the ears But I've known you for years And I said I'd be here; I remembered the dress {Enter The Multiverse}

https://youtu.be/7L4JnAuW00k Dillon Francis, I knew by now, was a very skilled sorcerer. I was fasting, and quickly shifting through times, realms, and dimensions as empty as ever as I knew myself to be; these days the shortest fasts seemed the longest—and by the look and feel of things, I was always still the biggest one in the room no matter where I went. ‘Let's see what this guy can do with half a moon.' If I had to go all the way to the dance floor to continue assessing my feelings for this man, it then had to be true that there were feelings at all—and there had to have been. Either way, I didn't care much; I wasn't expecting any outcome and at the very least and most simultaneously, I was there as a fan. I was, after all, as written, Dillon Francis's biggest fan—and though I didn't wear any apparel that made it obviously so, I sought to seek means to an end at some point for the saga I had written. I had hoped to potentially see Dillon's Kayla Lauren in the wings, as I thought surely for there to be one; it would be odd for any man, especially one that traveled as much as he did, to have two dogs of his own. Again, it didn't seem to matter, as I kept it in the forefront of my mind always that a man like Dillon Francis could have anyone he wanted in the world, most certainly anyone in the audience, If a world renowned DJ were ever to do such a thing as to sink as low as to converse with a peasant, such as I; at the very least, I would record, as always, Shazam, as always, and music mine as much as I possibly could, seeing as I wasn't there to dance or to drink at all, but simply just to observe; my soul acted in certain ways in this environment, and I wanted to know why, or what it was exactly that made it do so, quite unforgivingly. Still, there was magic in the air; and whether it was his, or mine, or neither I neither cared to know nor did, but knew it to be—there was just nothing to to do but submit, as I had learned; and rightfully so, as I was coming to him, it allowed him to assert his dominance, which I liked and needed anyhow, in any event. Allowing any potential anyone to become the master was a given; and though not yet at my beauty's peak of perfection, my sexuality was peaking enough for me to explore my innate attraction to him, as I allowed it. I wanted to be controlled, and so although it felt forced and always ridden with guilt, whatever had happened with Sonny had sent me through an infinite loop and then put Kayla Lauren on display at the worst possible time; and though rarely missing a gym day since, I credited my own perseverance for it rather than her sheer luck at the genetic lottery. I would never be a little white girl, and though at my worst they acted as kryptonite to my super powers, whatever they were—I still had whatever it was they didn't, and perhaps not the affluent white man's proper ideal, still something and someone at best, maybe. I hoped to see a girl he might belong to at the show; but then wondered of course who might stay with the dogs. Are you serious? Either way, I was going to write, and record, and align with whatever my purpose was—as regardless of how, it seemed to have something to do with Dillon Francis. I was fasting, of course, but it hadn't been long; I had fulfilled what would be my calorie deficit with a box of plant based Oreos just the night before departing LA full of grief, stress, and chocolate,'for whatever reason; I would have a vegan doughnut at pink box, I decided, before I left Vegas—maybe to make up for the one I had lost in the wind from the oncoming train just days before—I called it God's work, as nothing else could be so comical and devastating at the same time—but was also still craving a doughnut and, still fitting I to everything I owed that I had purchased in an extra small, very comfortably, thought to be allowed one, at one time or another. It didn't matter to me; the white women of the world were made to steal anything I wanted or needed; especially a Sonny or a Dillon Francis, but at the very least I could ease my grief with sweets and work off the stress whenever I was blessed enough to hold gym memberships. I didn't care much, but needed the processing speed of a wired brain and empty stomach to be able to compute whatever might be meant for me to grasp in the matrix; after all, I had once thought of Dillon Francis to be a computer-program himself; the most nonplahable character yet, but still a record breaking synchronicity or rather large group of them, now, in my book. .Red Hot Chili Peppers - These Are The Ways I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophies Maybe it's everything Love is But fucking What? God, I'm lucky; I ought to be I run a Fortune 500 Maybe it's nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophes (Don't forget the apostrophe, Since you'll be forging for me) I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing I should be parking my car in the lobby for washing Don't mind me, It's just natural distrust All turns to dust, And all comes from nothing God, I'm lucky I should be working on something (I should be resting on Sundays, the lord says) But take my time word for it, I'm the one writing it Monday Thru Sunday I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing ‘Just remember, that every girl you see that makes you sad, is the kind of girl he gets—and that's the reason for it.' , I thought to myself. As long as I remembered Instagram models and actresses existed, I couldn't continue to be hurt by it, but I was still, somehow even after 30 years, getting used to being the ugly fat black girl—and since I wasn't Lizzo or Megan The Stallion, I really wasn't anyboth; there was still no place for me at all in the world I wanted to belong to, and I was still as I represented as I would ever be. Maybe tonight I would use my two drink tickets; a sure recipe for disaster, as I had at least almost made it to the 48 hour mark fasting, If I was counting correctly. Perhaps a vegan doughnut could soak up the liquor and shame after leaving the encore at 3 am with nothing but a handful of words and some samples, and perhaps a podcast episode if there could be one. Dua Lipa, Hallucinate What happens after The Daisy swallows Dillon Francis?! Dillon HART Francis. That's a funny name! He's a funny guy. Sometimes. Sometimes. What was I to do? I just kept writing and had nowhere to send it; there was no pitch, there was no plot, and there was certainly no point. Enter The Multiverse and The Festival Project as a whole made up for everything I could have potentially been worth—which was nothing— and I hadn't a clue at all what I was purposed for; I seemed almost psychically robotic, remembering things as they happened within seconds, only enough to slightly offset a rebuttal that at any rate seemed scripted, but wasn't—at least yet. It seemed as if I was in a movie, but to any such ohaycologist of course this could have been considered mania, psychosis, or delusions of grandeur—or even— Dillusions of Granduer. I was funny too, sometimes. I didn't have to think Dillon Francis was shallow—I knew he was shallow, just as such with Sonny or any other man worth his salt, whatever that actually meant. But, just as I had harshly learned anything else, I was starting to understand why, as the smaller and more agile I became, the more I could do with my own body, and as such began to understand why men preferred slim and petite women. I was settling in well to my non-bianary status, and my celibacy—I could do more on my own or with myself than with any partner to date, and with the only human of interest being himself well over 300 pounds, I opted to keep to myself and simply observe human nature for the time being, rather than to take part in it. I wasn't eating, but for the first time in days I had slept, and pushing anything from the future or past far from my mind, I opted to remain present, and aloof; it wouldn't mean much to try to care at all about anything—the more I cared, the more the universe would subtract from my contentedness. Hear Me Now, Nicky Romero “If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.” —William Blake As if this isn't the greatest story ever told. I'm pretty sure that's The Passion of The Christ. This is The Passion Of The Christ. That's just blasphemous. It's The Passion of— Go on. I mean, it is infinite. Well, first there was infinite— —everything— —Everything. Now what. Oh, I know. What is it? It's The Passion of Dillon Francis. Why is that? Because, they're going to kill him. Why? Dillon Francis isn't in the Illuminati! Think twice before going there. But I've got a one track mind. A one track mind In a multitrack world Is a square peg to a round hole And a half-heart To a whole world And nothing's left but to give But to give is to get Just live, Try to forget that it's Infinite What's for dinner dear? I met you here, at the crossroads Like I said I would; And you said you wouldn't come, But here you are: A phenomenon Pardon my awful camaraderie Oh! I forgot all my manners Beg your hard on for hours, Till wilted, like later my flowers Oh, the debachery —better off watching your crotch, Than up on the cross, Like last that I saw you— Stop Look, I just want to watch; I just want to wash all the blood off my hands, From the Hog I put on the bonfire (Forgot what it's called in Oahu) Who are you? I died in a fire, you know In your eyes, Despite how I tried to avoid them They light up at night, sometimes No Divine or desire I'm just here to top off my tires, I'm tired, you know —better off watching, I'm novice Another day at the office, A shot gun in place of deposits, collateral Oh, I'm the asshole— I'm actually quite proud of it This is called something of consciousness, Writing a canon, But I'm quite forgetful; A madman, if you can imagine (Disasterous) Now you attack at your best, I'm un-vested Invested my time in unrest, Don't forget I'm just under your bed We mustn't forget how it started Intensive care Must be intense in the moment When you're Dillon Francis Ah yes. Leave A Trace, CHRCHES Tell me again how you're different; I exist just to wash dishes and watch DJs— I'm lazy; A patronage made just to let the white bitches forget all their privelege; In fact, it's a gift In fact, they're chosen— In fact, I'm just “Isn't” It's miserable Everyone Talks, Neon Trees | Three Pound Chicken Wing, deadmau5 | Paradise, Laidback Luke feat. Bright Lights Let me explain, How it's a vibration; I don't care what body you're in— It's all the same love, If it's all the same love, Then I love you I love you I love you, But I'm in a body It's torturous Let me explain how It's a vibration New word: It's Sapiosexual; Oh, I forgot how you Maddened me once, with your syntax and grammar Ah, now I'm sad as Hell ‘Might as well end it”, I thought to myself If looked as disheveled as I felt They would have stopped me from entering Even at ‘Envy' Let me explain, How I'm the villain This just happens over and over To poor Skrillex And Dillon Francis So much fame and fortune It turns into torture The girls on the rail A pecking order; Ready to devour, And be devoured by The man of the hour “ I might as well end it, then” I said. (But just for attention, I'm stuck in this body, Just rotting Cause nobody wants me at this damn party I've had enough of it I need some water and Probably a therapist Oh, ‘Stream of consciousness' There, I remembered it. Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) Uh huh, I'm no fun at parties [Three knocks on the door] I ignore it (This part is important) [three more knocks] Ought to be something, But still, I assume that it's nothing No guts, and no glory Nobody to love me Uh huh I'm no fun at parties Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) No wonder I used to cut myself “I can feel something” I once sung Now I just run; But— I'm still not small enough For somebody to want me I like to eat every now and again But— I guess that's my problem I just want someone to want me That doesn't remind me of Something i'm not But instead as in awe of my body As I am of Anything other than Tragedy Walk like an Egyptian, The Bangles I excused myself for the lackluster workout—after all, it had been days since my last real meal, and three now since my last solid anything; I had been happy with coconut water and alkaline, trying not to stay too far from the petite I was aiming for.; the plaid dress was a perfect match for the boots I had picked out, astonished that with the nearly 300-lb weight loss, my feet had also happened to shrink down a size and a half—I was dressed to impress, but prepared to be humiliated, and to top that—very eager to Google how long it would take me to get from XS, to Pink Box doughnuts—which was open 24 hours. At least I didn't exactly look like a prostitute—and, as an added bonus, might even could keep the dress for work or interviews; the boots walked nicely, at least for now, and I didn't mind the modesty, as I was already as out of place and forgotten as could be. Rather than opting for a coconut water, I stayed empty; not much was needed to do what I intended, which was almost nothing, and I hoped at the very least my senses and delicate nerves would be somehow put at ease. My iPhone microphone was sensitive enough to catch a song from a car waiting for the light halfway across the street— Freddie's Dead, Curtis Mayfield I crossed at the walk and kept my eyes to the ground, steadying my gait I into an awkward trot as not to appear to confident. I was right on time at the bus stop, and, within moments, not to my suprise, the 103 passed by me, even as I leaned against the stop waving my phone wirh the screen lit. “What a dick.” Perhaps I had fasted too long and worked out too hard; I had indeed left my clothes in a heap of heavy and drenched conglomerate of sweat and tears. I did have a headache, and didn't care much to return yet to my dwelling—in fact, there was something calling me out, and so out I went. Summoning a surprisingly inexpensive Über, I trotted begrudgingly to the WinCo behind me for a Pressed Coconjr Water—the world seemed to dysfunction a little too autonomously when I was running on empty, and with less stored fat supply than before, any triggered ketosis often resulted in a heavy cloud of thoughtless disability; I fumbled around clumsily, breathing shallow in the overstimulation of everything and everyone's aura—but that was exactly what I needed to see: Dillon had always glowed in brilliant shades of purple, but at one time, white—which startled me, especially because it was rare for anyone to glow that way. 120 calories of Coconut water wouldn't quite offset the caloric deficits Raul picked me up in a brand new Tesla, of course—which didn't feel like a coincidence, as nothing did; I had just earlier in the day been thinking of Lim Manuel Miranda, whose face was earned on the cover of a magazine as I purchased my coconut wate; I snapped a picture and hurried along to my whatever it was—instead of spending the next two hours on the bus, I'd get to collect the music from the warmup DJ, and since it was his job I wanted to aquire, it was probably in good taste and good fortune to support anyone whose name I didn't already know. As I arrived to the encore, my eyes were blurred and I was still a little woozy, but the headache was gone and replaced with an all-out bad attitude that didn't exactl come from out of nowhere. As easily distracted as I was, and out of place, I was surprisingly quick to lose self awareness; as I stopped to take a portrait for the festival project, security approached, assuming I was as trashed as anybody else hunched over the trash can—I explained I was working on an art project, and she seemed refreshed—I hadn't realized that how it looked wasn't at all out of the ordinary, remembering where I was, and suddenly, remembering where I was, I remembered the first time I was here, which had inspired the poem Red Velvet, which was lost to time and buried in the rubble of my endlessly infinite Google documents I never received my drink tickets—probably for the best, as k had been tempted this time to actually use them. My life was in actual shambles, with no direction whatsoever—and here I was, on the guestlist at Dillon Francis of all places, with nearly no other place to be. Maybe if I was vigilant I would be front and center at the rail—placing me back in the fandom instead of fiending for a reason or purpose any of this had happened. I'm not mad You're a man And an animal Can't help yourself can you you? Don't be mad at me I'm just a fan And an animal I can't help my attraction I'm second to last, Wirh my hand on the rail And I'm not here to dance (But the music's fantastic) Well, Dillon's front row is always a sight for sore eyes. This is hilarious. I'm laughing on the inside. Just, have a little drink with me. WHY DOES THE DJ KEEP PLAYING SIMMERTIME SADNESS!!! ITS NOT EVEN SUMMER. #SELFIE The club scene had changed much since the days of Red Velvet, but not much, also—vanity had always been the norm, but now more was allowable; at least Fat girls were allowed on the Dance floor without bogarting our way in—but now, the whole of the masses needed photographic evidence of everything; I wasn't in the least interested in taking photos of myself, or anything really hit the discarded rmknce of what had been a night of drinking and shenanigans, whatever the outcome; I never knew, but typically lately had made a habit of throwing away the trash after taking the photos for my project; tonight thiugh, something new caught my eye, as the warm up and caught my ears and I Shazammed every song for the taking—.Recycling bins at the foot of the rails—where, by the way, I had been pushed to front and center, looking quite like someone's Grandmother in my spectacles and too- long- for- the-club-dress—but I was comfortable, hadn't been given any trouble at the door, and, for the time being, was actually next to someone's grandparents. b€NZ (feat syaquis) Front row lit Finna get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We finnafight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shake that bony ass Like we on skid row. Yas Go ahead. Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shame that bony ass Like we on skid row. Where we gonna go In the morning Go ahead. The DJ's pace was picking up, so I knew that it had to be toward the end of his set—would I even make it to close—or did I want to? There wasn't much to see, but there might be more to write. I looked around myself, empathy giving way; now I wasn't myself, or anyone in particular—just a bystander in the crowd, drunk off the placebo of experience ‘What if this was your life every night for the last 10 years?' Uhhhh. I Shazamed another tune— What if this is your life for the next 10 years? Oh Fuxk. I'm getting too old for this. Or… just old enough. The night was moving forward, and so people were drunker, and I probably wouldn't stay at the front row too long; but I was right in the place where the bass hit just right, so it felt good enough— but you couldn't see the DJ's hands. Just so you know, When I'm bored at a show— I take out my notebook Oh no, You're not bothering me; No thanks, I'm not really lonely, I'm just Writing a novel Or album Or movie Or something “Are you in the industry?” The tallish blonde girl next to me asked, progressively more drunk than when she first had appeared next to me at the rail—the front row was now predominately female, which I supposed to be typical—what a life. I just shook my head and continued as I was. For the most part unamused, and even a little bored, as I always was at a club show. I wasn't behind the decks, so I wasn't really anywhere at all. Maybe it was the bass, but I had suddenly stopped craving a doughnut, however by 4 am I was probably just about going to be ready for one; Or half dozen, cause— And with a flash of steam and sweat, the man of the hour appeared, but I found it hard to lift my head— I probably should step back from this front row… The energy in your front row is everything; at least to a DJ like me… Okay Gerald, I'll get you a table— you can't tell anyone you're a piñata. Okay ?' okay. GERALD has permanently shapeshifted into a Human being. (To a hot girl) I'M ACTUALLY A PIÑATA. (Drunken hot girl) WHAT? I'M A PIÑATA! WHAT?! GERALD, NO. WHAT? She's drunk! So?! i told you already—don't tell anyone you're using magic—-or I'm using magic— But—Dillon—magic is real! You said so! I know that!!! DFR, Dillon Francis God dammit, I almost forgot about this album. No you didnt. (Shapeshifting) (Spellcasting) (Other Magic shit) Yeah, but I forgot about the album. Yeah, I bet SAVAGE>< Freek In The Ghetto, Skrillex No. No. No. Oh fuck, where is Skrillex? Oh yeah, huh?! OH YEAH, huh. — What the everlivingFUCK. Oh shit. WHAT are you doing? Just playing a game. WHATDIDITELLYOU— Oh shit, she's mad— Run, dude— Run!! OH SHIT. I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU Well— Well. Well, well, well— Suddenly, it seemed everyone in the front row Was alt right- and as always, all the hot white girls moved into VIP—it was a tired game; I would always be black, and I would always be ugly, and so it hurt less than made me think twice or three times who I was dealing with. I just so happened to look over my shoulder and be somewhat attracted to the girl behind me. ‘'maybe it's time to start dating women' …but that would never work. GERALD. WHAT?! I thought I told you— I know, I know— GIMME ANOTHER SHOT. What, Dillon—! I thought you weren't DRINKING! Gerald! It's me! I know it's you. No! It's me! Ū! SUPACREE?! NO' SHH! I'm Ū!!! Where's / Dillon Francis?! WHERE IS SKRILLEX? He's in your heart. Oh shit. I gave that to Dillon Francis. Well, then, you have your answer. Fuxk. Let it happen. Tame Impala Man, I love that kid. I love that kid. So what happened? It's a long story. —NOT THE TIME MACHINE —NOT THE BOX GET IN THE TIME MACHINE! NOT THE BOX—!!!!! UGH, not Dillon Francis. (Yes, Dillon Francis.) What's his deal?! Who's what, him!!? YES. Satan. Hm. Whats your deal with Dillon Francis? What?! I don't have a deal with Dillon Francis… What?! YOU DONT!? NO! Why not? Cause! Being honest..? The devil, being honest: (Psh) I owe him money. What!! Satan, no way. Yes way! Hod that happen?' Lost a bet. Damn. This set is getting good. What are you watching? Gerald's world The legend of supacree Enter the multiverse The infinite Skrillifiles What? Uh oh. What ñ 5) 3 time space time continuums just shattered CONFETTI BLAST OH SHIT, it just shattered twice. We gotta go. Where we going To the planet Which—ducking planet. The one with the ducks. QUACK oh shit. A duck DUCK DUCK!! DUCK—DUCK—DUCK— Damn, this game really has gone on forever— ITS EDM O CLOCK, BITCH—! GET UP!! Mmm. We better go. Yes. We better go ALI and AVICII are very, very drunk in Heaven. THEY FINALLY MADE IT?! —of course we made it! —We knew the way! But of course: GOD No, go back. WHAT ARE YOU serious? MARTY! MARTY MCFLY! DAWG, it's good to see you! Wait. What the Fuxk dimension is THIS?' It's the one with Dillon Francis That's— a —FUCK. Dillon Francis is in a lot of dimensions. Yeah but this is the right one. How do you know? That was the theme song for the TV show. What TV show? Damn. I'm fucked up. What! I thought you didn't drink. I don't I'm an empath. MEANWHILE SUPACREE and SUNNÍ BLŪ have collided in a para-dimensional reality OH, SHIT, it's ME OH FUCK—DAMN. Now what do we do? Drugs? Drugs. Yeaaaaaaaah. One More Time, Daft Punk My son's favorite song. It was the second time it had played today, and the first time it wasn't nearly as bad as the second — now i was glad for the cloud of cold steam, I couldn't hide my upset as much as I wanted to ‘'Just keep writing' Okay. They're trying to kill me With white girls, And memories And it just might work I'm trying to write myself out the box Oh my god And it just my work I'm trying to get lost But I'm all out of sauce This is not gonna work I see you went and hopped on the band wagon Somebody get that dragon. /$3/ Huh That's how much I paid for this You—what?! I paid $3 You paid $3 Yes. For this. Yes. I'm gonna kill you. Ū VS DILLON FRANCIS Uh oh. Here it goes. FIGHT. Oh shit. I've been waiting all season for this. Here it goes. KO. SUPACREE WINS. What. It's over already? This isn't possible. GAME OVER. What the Fuxk. This is insane. No fucking way #%%]!! Wait. What the fuck I thought it was Ū VS Dillon Francisz YeH! It was. What the fuck. So how did SUPACREE win? Huh. Wait, did anybody ever find Skrillex? Oh, My God. Just then, someone threw a Red Bull and it hit my foot enough that it actually distracted me from writing— THROW ANOTHER ONE! No, dont! Why, what's wrong? I have to take back these boots in the morning. Oh good, Jesus made it. What Jesus who! JESÚS CHRIST! What? What do you want? I didn't think you'd come! I had to. I thought you were on vacation. Exactly. Listen, Dillon—I have to tell you something. Uh huh. This isn't going to be easy. Chak Chel, what is it? I need you to listen. Uh, I'm kinda busy. It was at this point— Really, this point—? I had to stop and asses for myself what was really happening. I was writing up a storm, and it did seem to happen automatically, as it had before. I'm a looper Open the coupe up, Stupid, Who did you think I is This is the business Go listen to Skrillex And KILL YOURSELF Huh? JUST KILL YOURSELF. Ah, okay—but not because you said so. Listen, I'm finna spit this quick while you spin it Spit in it: clitoris I'm different bitch After this dinner I'm still in the kitchen With dishes, bitch Till it glistens While I listen To excision (I'm just kidding) Dammit, this is a lot of Skrillex What exactly did you say about Dillon Francis not being in the Illuminati First of all, the Illuminati isn't real. SUPACREE How did you get famous? SUNNÍ BLŪ I'm in the Illuminati. You? SUPACREE I AM the Illuminati. SUNNÍ BLŪ NIce. [Cheers] Hey. Hey. Anybody seen Gerald? … … … Zzz. Damn. Nodding off On the clock I'm on the floor, And yo this shit is toxic Turn the knob a bit; My foot starting to throb again I'm looking hot like Somebody's mom again Damn. I'm getting off On the wrong kind of drama This isn't long at all But it's all wrong, ya'll I dont belong here Lost My Mind, Alison Wonderland OHH THIS SHIT BE HITTING DIFFERENT It did hit different. Someone either vomited or spilled the rest of their drink on me, which took me out of my moment: the music was telling a story, at least to me—and I didn't feel like feeling right then, but it was all I could do ñ. I was surprised that I was still standing at all, Ugh. I don't understand my feelings. This was deeper than it seemed, bigger than it — Ugh. What do you want from me? All I've got is applause, and a cough drop It's just another night at the office I'm somebody's mom In a long lost thought; All zeros on the clock In a tick tock, or two, when you're off And you're long gone, I'll still be wandering Stuck at the mall Till the bus comes —trying to write myself out the box I'm a lost soul I'm a club kid I'm a lost cause But i'll stay till the end, Cause last time I walked off And my thoughts wandered back to the dance floor All that I wanted is A penny for gods thoughts And now she keeps dropping them —and more often then not, She's dropping the knowledge That I'm in the wrong, For just wanting you: But what can I do; I just want to be like you, and less of a primate Something saw right through me, and I felt invisible—now a doughnut sounded good, and I hoped that they would have vegan this early in the morning. There was about a half hour left of the set, and I was tired; I would stay until the end of the set, for some reason—-but now — Oh shit. Remember that one time/— Which TIME One time, I lost my mind and drove off of a bridge. That did happen. That did happen. I had at one point been unwell, and so— ugh, that's it Some smelly kid squeezed his way in between me and the next person over,,probably on molly or something—meanwhile the young white supremacists club of America was codeswitching up a storm, me pretending not to notice, but— he was dancing a little too hard, hitting me a little too much—and clearly not giving any kind of fuck: it wouldn't be my first panic attack on the dance floor, but it probably would be my last; it was the same story over and over again— only the next generation had even less of a Fuxk than I ever did. I left the dance floor and opted to stand behind VIP — DID ANYONE EVER FIND SKRILLEX? Wrf. He died. WHAT. No seriously, I watched him die. Okay. Then what? Then he got up. That's a twist. Now I can't sleep. That sounds traumatic. It was traumatic. How long's it been? I HAVE NOT SLEPT IN ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND YEARS. Great, the vampires are here, too. Good. I've been craving Vegan blood. Ihj. What. It's better for you. God dammit, Dillon Francis Why does this always happen? I can't remember half of what I did Before I napped, and landed back in this dimension Now, I'll give you my attention for a minute— But I'm worried about Skrillex Didnt I mention i needed permission (Or just a perscription) To get this ignition I didn't even want to come to this I hate this club It's filled will memories You won't remember me For half another century Cause I can't finish writing I'm too busy riding The bus To work And crying all the time Cause therapy doesn't And I used to love this stuff, but UHH 1–2–3 : BUN UP THE DANCE This is a lot of Skrillex. Is he okay? Is Dillon Francis Okay!? They're both okay. They're both millionaires. They'll be fine. huayayay!!!!. Fuck this. Fuck this. Alright, I'm leaving. Are we eating? If it's vegan. Ah man. What just happened? I'm definitely in the Illuminati. I have a tendency To pretend that You're friends with me Speeded I get it's a Fantasy But I had to see you In the flesh I digress I picture you're just as Obsessed with me Guess I'd regret to suggest that You should have Sex with me Directly but it's nestled in my head In the red Would you get into bed with me After everything I said Or I wrote, and you read Or am I just Better off dead Youre so far ahead, And I get that it's Just a test At best but I've yet to digest Breakfast Caught in a web of Heaven or or empathy Trying to empty my envy For whoever's holding your hand Instead of me Please, Forgive me— But, If you're reading this, It's too late; All triple sixes and Tipping the sinners With witless intentions Wet at the back of the ears But I've known you for years And I said I'd be here; I remembered the dress {Enter The Multiverse}

https://youtu.be/7L4JnAuW00k Dillon Francis, I knew by now, was a very skilled sorcerer. I was fasting, and quickly shifting through times, realms, and dimensions as empty as ever as I knew myself to be; these days the shortest fasts seemed the longest—and by the look and feel of things, I was always still the biggest one in the room no matter where I went. ‘Let's see what this guy can do with half a moon.' If I had to go all the way to the dance floor to continue assessing my feelings for this man, it then had to be true that there were feelings at all—and there had to have been. Either way, I didn't care much; I wasn't expecting any outcome and at the very least and most simultaneously, I was there as a fan. I was, after all, as written, Dillon Francis's biggest fan—and though I didn't wear any apparel that made it obviously so, I sought to seek means to an end at some point for the saga I had written. I had hoped to potentially see Dillon's Kayla Lauren in the wings, as I thought surely for there to be one; it would be odd for any man, especially one that traveled as much as he did, to have two dogs of his own. Again, it didn't seem to matter, as I kept it in the forefront of my mind always that a man like Dillon Francis could have anyone he wanted in the world, most certainly anyone in the audience, If a world renowned DJ were ever to do such a thing as to sink as low as to converse with a peasant, such as I; at the very least, I would record, as always, Shazam, as always, and music mine as much as I possibly could, seeing as I wasn't there to dance or to drink at all, but simply just to observe; my soul acted in certain ways in this environment, and I wanted to know why, or what it was exactly that made it do so, quite unforgivingly. Still, there was magic in the air; and whether it was his, or mine, or neither I neither cared to know nor did, but knew it to be—there was just nothing to to do but submit, as I had learned; and rightfully so, as I was coming to him, it allowed him to assert his dominance, which I liked and needed anyhow, in any event. Allowing any potential anyone to become the master was a given; and though not yet at my beauty's peak of perfection, my sexuality was peaking enough for me to explore my innate attraction to him, as I allowed it. I wanted to be controlled, and so although it felt forced and always ridden with guilt, whatever had happened with Sonny had sent me through an infinite loop and then put Kayla Lauren on display at the worst possible time; and though rarely missing a gym day since, I credited my own perseverance for it rather than her sheer luck at the genetic lottery. I would never be a little white girl, and though at my worst they acted as kryptonite to my super powers, whatever they were—I still had whatever it was they didn't, and perhaps not the affluent white man's proper ideal, still something and someone at best, maybe. I hoped to see a girl he might belong to at the show; but then wondered of course who might stay with the dogs. Are you serious? Either way, I was going to write, and record, and align with whatever my purpose was—as regardless of how, it seemed to have something to do with Dillon Francis. I was fasting, of course, but it hadn't been long; I had fulfilled what would be my calorie deficit with a box of plant based Oreos just the night before departing LA full of grief, stress, and chocolate,'for whatever reason; I would have a vegan doughnut at pink box, I decided, before I left Vegas—maybe to make up for the one I had lost in the wind from the oncoming train just days before—I called it God's work, as nothing else could be so comical and devastating at the same time—but was also still craving a doughnut and, still fitting I to everything I owed that I had purchased in an extra small, very comfortably, thought to be allowed one, at one time or another. It didn't matter to me; the white women of the world were made to steal anything I wanted or needed; especially a Sonny or a Dillon Francis, but at the very least I could ease my grief with sweets and work off the stress whenever I was blessed enough to hold gym memberships. I didn't care much, but needed the processing speed of a wired brain and empty stomach to be able to compute whatever might be meant for me to grasp in the matrix; after all, I had once thought of Dillon Francis to be a computer-program himself; the most nonplahable character yet, but still a record breaking synchronicity or rather large group of them, now, in my book. .Red Hot Chili Peppers - These Are The Ways I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophies Maybe it's everything Love is But fucking What? God, I'm lucky; I ought to be I run a Fortune 500 Maybe it's nothing But all comes from nothing All comes from nothing All comes from lusting I'm clutching the clutch with both my feet The break is stuck, Just like my feet in the styrupa, Good luck to me You're just fucking mad at me For having such vivid imaginary catastrophes (Don't forget the apostrophe, Since you'll be forging for me) I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing I should be parking my car in the lobby for washing Don't mind me, It's just natural distrust All turns to dust, And all comes from nothing God, I'm lucky I should be working on something (I should be resting on Sundays, the lord says) But take my time word for it, I'm the one writing it Monday Thru Sunday I can see It's not meant to be Cause I can't stop lying to you And you can't stop lying to me I just keep tying you up And you just keep letting me be So who are you to me A fantasy? Freedom? Sweet relief? Perhaps, just nothing ‘Just remember, that every girl you see that makes you sad, is the kind of girl he gets—and that's the reason for it.' , I thought to myself. As long as I remembered Instagram models and actresses existed, I couldn't continue to be hurt by it, but I was still, somehow even after 30 years, getting used to being the ugly fat black girl—and since I wasn't Lizzo or Megan The Stallion, I really wasn't anyboth; there was still no place for me at all in the world I wanted to belong to, and I was still as I represented as I would ever be. Maybe tonight I would use my two drink tickets; a sure recipe for disaster, as I had at least almost made it to the 48 hour mark fasting, If I was counting correctly. Perhaps a vegan doughnut could soak up the liquor and shame after leaving the encore at 3 am with nothing but a handful of words and some samples, and perhaps a podcast episode if there could be one. Dua Lipa, Hallucinate What happens after The Daisy swallows Dillon Francis?! Dillon HART Francis. That's a funny name! He's a funny guy. Sometimes. Sometimes. What was I to do? I just kept writing and had nowhere to send it; there was no pitch, there was no plot, and there was certainly no point. Enter The Multiverse and The Festival Project as a whole made up for everything I could have potentially been worth—which was nothing— and I hadn't a clue at all what I was purposed for; I seemed almost psychically robotic, remembering things as they happened within seconds, only enough to slightly offset a rebuttal that at any rate seemed scripted, but wasn't—at least yet. It seemed as if I was in a movie, but to any such ohaycologist of course this could have been considered mania, psychosis, or delusions of grandeur—or even— Dillusions of Granduer. I was funny too, sometimes. I didn't have to think Dillon Francis was shallow—I knew he was shallow, just as such with Sonny or any other man worth his salt, whatever that actually meant. But, just as I had harshly learned anything else, I was starting to understand why, as the smaller and more agile I became, the more I could do with my own body, and as such began to understand why men preferred slim and petite women. I was settling in well to my non-bianary status, and my celibacy—I could do more on my own or with myself than with any partner to date, and with the only human of interest being himself well over 300 pounds, I opted to keep to myself and simply observe human nature for the time being, rather than to take part in it. I wasn't eating, but for the first time in days I had slept, and pushing anything from the future or past far from my mind, I opted to remain present, and aloof; it wouldn't mean much to try to care at all about anything—the more I cared, the more the universe would subtract from my contentedness. Hear Me Now, Nicky Romero “If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.” —William Blake As if this isn't the greatest story ever told. I'm pretty sure that's The Passion of The Christ. This is The Passion Of The Christ. That's just blasphemous. It's The Passion of— Go on. I mean, it is infinite. Well, first there was infinite— —everything— —Everything. Now what. Oh, I know. What is it? It's The Passion of Dillon Francis. Why is that? Because, they're going to kill him. Why? Dillon Francis isn't in the Illuminati! Think twice before going there. But I've got a one track mind. A one track mind In a multitrack world Is a square peg to a round hole And a half-heart To a whole world And nothing's left but to give But to give is to get Just live, Try to forget that it's Infinite What's for dinner dear? I met you here, at the crossroads Like I said I would; And you said you wouldn't come, But here you are: A phenomenon Pardon my awful camaraderie Oh! I forgot all my manners Beg your hard on for hours, Till wilted, like later my flowers Oh, the debachery —better off watching your crotch, Than up on the cross, Like last that I saw you— Stop Look, I just want to watch; I just want to wash all the blood off my hands, From the Hog I put on the bonfire (Forgot what it's called in Oahu) Who are you? I died in a fire, you know In your eyes, Despite how I tried to avoid them They light up at night, sometimes No Divine or desire I'm just here to top off my tires, I'm tired, you know —better off watching, I'm novice Another day at the office, A shot gun in place of deposits, collateral Oh, I'm the asshole— I'm actually quite proud of it This is called something of consciousness, Writing a canon, But I'm quite forgetful; A madman, if you can imagine (Disasterous) Now you attack at your best, I'm un-vested Invested my time in unrest, Don't forget I'm just under your bed We mustn't forget how it started Intensive care Must be intense in the moment When you're Dillon Francis Ah yes. Leave A Trace, CHRCHES Tell me again how you're different; I exist just to wash dishes and watch DJs— I'm lazy; A patronage made just to let the white bitches forget all their privelege; In fact, it's a gift In fact, they're chosen— In fact, I'm just “Isn't” It's miserable Everyone Talks, Neon Trees | Three Pound Chicken Wing, deadmau5 | Paradise, Laidback Luke feat. Bright Lights Let me explain, How it's a vibration; I don't care what body you're in— It's all the same love, If it's all the same love, Then I love you I love you I love you, But I'm in a body It's torturous Let me explain how It's a vibration New word: It's Sapiosexual; Oh, I forgot how you Maddened me once, with your syntax and grammar Ah, now I'm sad as Hell ‘Might as well end it”, I thought to myself If looked as disheveled as I felt They would have stopped me from entering Even at ‘Envy' Let me explain, How I'm the villain This just happens over and over To poor Skrillex And Dillon Francis So much fame and fortune It turns into torture The girls on the rail A pecking order; Ready to devour, And be devoured by The man of the hour “ I might as well end it, then” I said. (But just for attention, I'm stuck in this body, Just rotting Cause nobody wants me at this damn party I've had enough of it I need some water and Probably a therapist Oh, ‘Stream of consciousness' There, I remembered it. Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) Uh huh, I'm no fun at parties [Three knocks on the door] I ignore it (This part is important) [three more knocks] Ought to be something, But still, I assume that it's nothing No guts, and no glory Nobody to love me Uh huh I'm no fun at parties Who could ever love me (No one does) Who could ever need me (No one does) Who would ever want me (No one does) No wonder I used to cut myself “I can feel something” I once sung Now I just run; But— I'm still not small enough For somebody to want me I like to eat every now and again But— I guess that's my problem I just want someone to want me That doesn't remind me of Something i'm not But instead as in awe of my body As I am of Anything other than Tragedy Walk like an Egyptian, The Bangles I excused myself for the lackluster workout—after all, it had been days since my last real meal, and three now since my last solid anything; I had been happy with coconut water and alkaline, trying not to stay too far from the petite I was aiming for.; the plaid dress was a perfect match for the boots I had picked out, astonished that with the nearly 300-lb weight loss, my feet had also happened to shrink down a size and a half—I was dressed to impress, but prepared to be humiliated, and to top that—very eager to Google how long it would take me to get from XS, to Pink Box doughnuts—which was open 24 hours. At least I didn't exactly look like a prostitute—and, as an added bonus, might even could keep the dress for work or interviews; the boots walked nicely, at least for now, and I didn't mind the modesty, as I was already as out of place and forgotten as could be. Rather than opting for a coconut water, I stayed empty; not much was needed to do what I intended, which was almost nothing, and I hoped at the very least my senses and delicate nerves would be somehow put at ease. My iPhone microphone was sensitive enough to catch a song from a car waiting for the light halfway across the street— Freddie's Dead, Curtis Mayfield I crossed at the walk and kept my eyes to the ground, steadying my gait I into an awkward trot as not to appear to confident. I was right on time at the bus stop, and, within moments, not to my suprise, the 103 passed by me, even as I leaned against the stop waving my phone wirh the screen lit. “What a dick.” Perhaps I had fasted too long and worked out too hard; I had indeed left my clothes in a heap of heavy and drenched conglomerate of sweat and tears. I did have a headache, and didn't care much to return yet to my dwelling—in fact, there was something calling me out, and so out I went. Summoning a surprisingly inexpensive Über, I trotted begrudgingly to the WinCo behind me for a Pressed Coconjr Water—the world seemed to dysfunction a little too autonomously when I was running on empty, and with less stored fat supply than before, any triggered ketosis often resulted in a heavy cloud of thoughtless disability; I fumbled around clumsily, breathing shallow in the overstimulation of everything and everyone's aura—but that was exactly what I needed to see: Dillon had always glowed in brilliant shades of purple, but at one time, white—which startled me, especially because it was rare for anyone to glow that way. 120 calories of Coconut water wouldn't quite offset the caloric deficits Raul picked me up in a brand new Tesla, of course—which didn't feel like a coincidence, as nothing did; I had just earlier in the day been thinking of Lim Manuel Miranda, whose face was earned on the cover of a magazine as I purchased my coconut wate; I snapped a picture and hurried along to my whatever it was—instead of spending the next two hours on the bus, I'd get to collect the music from the warmup DJ, and since it was his job I wanted to aquire, it was probably in good taste and good fortune to support anyone whose name I didn't already know. As I arrived to the encore, my eyes were blurred and I was still a little woozy, but the headache was gone and replaced with an all-out bad attitude that didn't exactl come from out of nowhere. As easily distracted as I was, and out of place, I was surprisingly quick to lose self awareness; as I stopped to take a portrait for the festival project, security approached, assuming I was as trashed as anybody else hunched over the trash can—I explained I was working on an art project, and she seemed refreshed—I hadn't realized that how it looked wasn't at all out of the ordinary, remembering where I was, and suddenly, remembering where I was, I remembered the first time I was here, which had inspired the poem Red Velvet, which was lost to time and buried in the rubble of my endlessly infinite Google documents I never received my drink tickets—probably for the best, as k had been tempted this time to actually use them. My life was in actual shambles, with no direction whatsoever—and here I was, on the guestlist at Dillon Francis of all places, with nearly no other place to be. Maybe if I was vigilant I would be front and center at the rail—placing me back in the fandom instead of fiending for a reason or purpose any of this had happened. I'm not mad You're a man And an animal Can't help yourself can you you? Don't be mad at me I'm just a fan And an animal I can't help my attraction I'm second to last, Wirh my hand on the rail And I'm not here to dance (But the music's fantastic) Well, Dillon's front row is always a sight for sore eyes. This is hilarious. I'm laughing on the inside. Just, have a little drink with me. WHY DOES THE DJ KEEP PLAYING SIMMERTIME SADNESS!!! ITS NOT EVEN SUMMER. #SELFIE The club scene had changed much since the days of Red Velvet, but not much, also—vanity had always been the norm, but now more was allowable; at least Fat girls were allowed on the Dance floor without bogarting our way in—but now, the whole of the masses needed photographic evidence of everything; I wasn't in the least interested in taking photos of myself, or anything really hit the discarded rmknce of what had been a night of drinking and shenanigans, whatever the outcome; I never knew, but typically lately had made a habit of throwing away the trash after taking the photos for my project; tonight thiugh, something new caught my eye, as the warm up and caught my ears and I Shazammed every song for the taking—.Recycling bins at the foot of the rails—where, by the way, I had been pushed to front and center, looking quite like someone's Grandmother in my spectacles and too- long- for- the-club-dress—but I was comfortable, hadn't been given any trouble at the door, and, for the time being, was actually next to someone's grandparents. b€NZ (feat syaquis) Front row lit Finna get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We finnafight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shake that bony ass Like we on skid row. Yas Go ahead. Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Front row lit Fin a get bent Imma get Imma get. I don't mind a white girl It's just for the night, girl But if you hit me with that ponytail one more time, girl We fin a fight girl Go ahead Get it Get it Shame that bony ass Like we on skid row. Where we gonna go In the morning Go ahead. The DJ's pace was picking up, so I knew that it had to be toward the end of his set—would I even make it to close—or did I want to? There wasn't much to see, but there might be more to write. I looked around myself, empathy giving way; now I wasn't myself, or anyone in particular—just a bystander in the crowd, drunk off the placebo of experience ‘What if this was your life every night for the last 10 years?' Uhhhh. I Shazamed another tune— What if this is your life for the next 10 years? Oh Fuxk. I'm getting too old for this. Or… just old enough. The night was moving forward, and so people were drunker, and I probably wouldn't stay at the front row too long; but I was right in the place where the bass hit just right, so it felt good enough— but you couldn't see the DJ's hands. Just so you know, When I'm bored at a show— I take out my notebook Oh no, You're not bothering me; No thanks, I'm not really lonely, I'm just Writing a novel Or album Or movie Or something “Are you in the industry?” The tallish blonde girl next to me asked, progressively more drunk than when she first had appeared next to me at the rail—the front row was now predominately female, which I supposed to be typical—what a life. I just shook my head and continued as I was. For the most part unamused, and even a little bored, as I always was at a club show. I wasn't behind the decks, so I wasn't really anywhere at all. Maybe it was the bass, but I had suddenly stopped craving a doughnut, however by 4 am I was probably just about going to be ready for one; Or half dozen, cause— And with a flash of steam and sweat, the man of the hour appeared, but I found it hard to lift my head— I probably should step back from this front row… The energy in your front row is everything; at least to a DJ like me… Okay Gerald, I'll get you a table— you can't tell anyone you're a piñata. Okay ?' okay. GERALD has permanently shapeshifted into a Human being. (To a hot girl) I'M ACTUALLY A PIÑATA. (Drunken hot girl) WHAT? I'M A PIÑATA! WHAT?! GERALD, NO. WHAT? She's drunk! So?! i told you already—don't tell anyone you're using magic—-or I'm using magic— But—Dillon—magic is real! You said so! I know that!!! DFR, Dillon Francis God dammit, I almost forgot about this album. No you didnt. (Shapeshifting) (Spellcasting) (Other Magic shit) Yeah, but I forgot about the album. Yeah, I bet SAVAGE>< Freek In The Ghetto, Skrillex No. No. No. Oh fuck, where is Skrillex? Oh yeah, huh?! OH YEAH, huh. — What the everlivingFUCK. Oh shit. WHAT are you doing? Just playing a game. WHATDIDITELLYOU— Oh shit, she's mad— Run, dude— Run!! OH SHIT. I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU Well— Well. Well, well, well— Suddenly, it seemed everyone in the front row Was alt right- and as always, all the hot white girls moved into VIP—it was a tired game; I would always be black, and I would always be ugly, and so it hurt less than made me think twice or three times who I was dealing with. I just so happened to look over my shoulder and be somewhat attracted to the girl behind me. ‘'maybe it's time to start dating women' …but that would never work. GERALD. WHAT?! I thought I told you— I know, I know— GIMME ANOTHER SHOT. What, Dillon—! I thought you weren't DRINKING! Gerald! It's me! I know it's you. No! It's me! Ū! SUPACREE?! NO' SHH! I'm Ū!!! Where's / Dillon Francis?! WHERE IS SKRILLEX? He's in your heart. Oh shit. I gave that to Dillon Francis. Well, then, you have your answer. Fuxk. Let it happen. Tame Impala Man, I love that kid. I love that kid. So what happened? It's a long story. —NOT THE TIME MACHINE —NOT THE BOX GET IN THE TIME MACHINE! NOT THE BOX—!!!!! UGH, not Dillon Francis. (Yes, Dillon Francis.) What's his deal?! Who's what, him!!? YES. Satan. Hm. Whats your deal with Dillon Francis? What?! I don't have a deal with Dillon Francis… What?! YOU DONT!? NO! Why not? Cause! Being honest..? The devil, being honest: (Psh) I owe him money. What!! Satan, no way. Yes way! Hod that happen?' Lost a bet. Damn. This set is getting good. What are you watching? Gerald's world The legend of supacree Enter the multiverse The infinite Skrillifiles What? Uh oh. What ñ 5) 3 time space time continuums just shattered CONFETTI BLAST OH SHIT, it just shattered twice. We gotta go. Where we going To the planet Which—ducking planet. The one with the ducks. QUACK oh shit. A duck DUCK DUCK!! DUCK—DUCK—DUCK— Damn, this game really has gone on forever— ITS EDM O CLOCK, BITCH—! GET UP!! Mmm. We better go. Yes. We better go ALI and AVICII are very, very drunk in Heaven. THEY FINALLY MADE IT?! —of course we made it! —We knew the way! But of course: GOD No, go back. WHAT ARE YOU serious? MARTY! MARTY MCFLY! DAWG, it's good to see you! Wait. What the Fuxk dimension is THIS?' It's the one with Dillon Francis That's— a —FUCK. Dillon Francis is in a lot of dimensions. Yeah but this is the right one. How do you know? That was the theme song for the TV show. What TV show? Damn. I'm fucked up. What! I thought you didn't drink. I don't I'm an empath. MEANWHILE SUPACREE and SUNNÍ BLŪ have collided in a para-dimensional reality OH, SHIT, it's ME OH FUCK—DAMN. Now what do we do? Drugs? Drugs. Yeaaaaaaaah. One More Time, Daft Punk My son's favorite song. It was the second time it had played today, and the first time it wasn't nearly as bad as the second — now i was glad for the cloud of cold steam, I couldn't hide my upset as much as I wanted to ‘'Just keep writing' Okay. They're trying to kill me With white girls, And memories And it just might work I'm trying to write myself out the box Oh my god And it just my work I'm trying to get lost But I'm all out of sauce This is not gonna work I see you went and hopped on the band wagon Somebody get that dragon. /$3/ Huh That's how much I paid for this You—what?! I paid $3 You paid $3 Yes. For this. Yes. I'm gonna kill you. Ū VS DILLON FRANCIS Uh oh. Here it goes. FIGHT. Oh shit. I've been waiting all season for this. Here it goes. KO. SUPACREE WINS. What. It's over already? This isn't possible. GAME OVER. What the Fuxk. This is insane. No fucking way #%%]!! Wait. What the fuck I thought it was Ū VS Dillon Francisz YeH! It was. What the fuck. So how did SUPACREE win? Huh. Wait, did anybody ever find Skrillex? Oh, My God. Just then, someone threw a Red Bull and it hit my foot enough that it actually distracted me from writing— THROW ANOTHER ONE! No, dont! Why, what's wrong? I have to take back these boots in the morning. Oh good, Jesus made it. What Jesus who! JESÚS CHRIST! What? What do you want? I didn't think you'd come! I had to. I thought you were on vacation. Exactly. Listen, Dillon—I have to tell you something. Uh huh. This isn't going to be easy. Chak Chel, what is it? I need you to listen. Uh, I'm kinda busy. It was at this point— Really, this point—? I had to stop and asses for myself what was really happening. I was writing up a storm, and it did seem to happen automatically, as it had before. I'm a looper Open the coupe up, Stupid, Who did you think I is This is the business Go listen to Skrillex And KILL YOURSELF Huh? JUST KILL YOURSELF. Ah, okay—but not because you said so. Listen, I'm finna spit this quick while you spin it Spit in it: clitoris I'm different bitch After this dinner I'm still in the kitchen With dishes, bitch Till it glistens While I listen To excision (I'm just kidding) Dammit, this is a lot of Skrillex What exactly did you say about Dillon Francis not being in the Illuminati First of all, the Illuminati isn't real. SUPACREE How did you get famous? SUNNÍ BLŪ I'm in the Illuminati. You? SUPACREE I AM the Illuminati. SUNNÍ BLŪ NIce. [Cheers] Hey. Hey. Anybody seen Gerald? … … … Zzz. Damn. Nodding off On the clock I'm on the floor, And yo this shit is toxic Turn the knob a bit; My foot starting to throb again I'm looking hot like Somebody's mom again Damn. I'm getting off On the wrong kind of drama This isn't long at all But it's all wrong, ya'll I dont belong here Lost My Mind, Alison Wonderland OHH THIS SHIT BE HITTING DIFFERENT It did hit different. Someone either vomited or spilled the rest of their drink on me, which took me out of my moment: the music was telling a story, at least to me—and I didn't feel like feeling right then, but it was all I could do ñ. I was surprised that I was still standing at all, Ugh. I don't understand my feelings. This was deeper than it seemed, bigger than it — Ugh. What do you want from me? All I've got is applause, and a cough drop It's just another night at the office I'm somebody's mom In a long lost thought; All zeros on the clock In a tick tock, or two, when you're off And you're long gone, I'll still be wandering Stuck at the mall Till the bus comes —trying to write myself out the box I'm a lost soul I'm a club kid I'm a lost cause But i'll stay till the end, Cause last time I walked off And my thoughts wandered back to the dance floor All that I wanted is A penny for gods thoughts And now she keeps dropping them —and more often then not, She's dropping the knowledge That I'm in the wrong, For just wanting you: But what can I do; I just want to be like you, and less of a primate Something saw right through me, and I felt invisible—now a doughnut sounded good, and I hoped that they would have vegan this early in the morning. There was about a half hour left of the set, and I was tired; I would stay until the end of the set, for some reason—-but now — Oh shit. Remember that one time/— Which TIME One time, I lost my mind and drove off of a bridge. That did happen. That did happen. I had at one point been unwell, and so— ugh, that's it Some smelly kid squeezed his way in between me and the next person over,,probably on molly or something—meanwhile the young white supremacists club of America was codeswitching up a storm, me pretending not to notice, but— he was dancing a little too hard, hitting me a little too much—and clearly not giving any kind of fuck: it wouldn't be my first panic attack on the dance floor, but it probably would be my last; it was the same story over and over again— only the next generation had even less of a Fuxk than I ever did. I left the dance floor and opted to stand behind VIP — DID ANYONE EVER FIND SKRILLEX? Wrf. He died. WHAT. No seriously, I watched him die. Okay. Then what? Then he got up. That's a twist. Now I can't sleep. That sounds traumatic. It was traumatic. How long's it been? I HAVE NOT SLEPT IN ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND YEARS. Great, the vampires are here, too. Good. I've been craving Vegan blood. Ihj. What. It's better for you. God dammit, Dillon Francis Why does this always happen? I can't remember half of what I did Before I napped, and landed back in this dimension Now, I'll give you my attention for a minute— But I'm worried about Skrillex Didnt I mention i needed permission (Or just a perscription) To get this ignition I didn't even want to come to this I hate this club It's filled will memories You won't remember me For half another century Cause I can't finish writing I'm too busy riding The bus To work And crying all the time Cause therapy doesn't And I used to love this stuff, but UHH 1–2–3 : BUN UP THE DANCE This is a lot of Skrillex. Is he okay? Is Dillon Francis Okay!? They're both okay. They're both millionaires. They'll be fine. huayayay!!!!. Fuck this. Fuck this. Alright, I'm leaving. Are we eating? If it's vegan. Ah man. What just happened? I'm definitely in the Illuminati. I have a tendency To pretend that You're friends with me Speeded I get it's a Fantasy But I had to see you In the flesh I digress I picture you're just as Obsessed with me Guess I'd regret to suggest that You should have Sex with me Directly but it's nestled in my head In the red Would you get into bed with me After everything I said Or I wrote, and you read Or am I just Better off dead Youre so far ahead, And I get that it's Just a test At best but I've yet to digest Breakfast Caught in a web of Heaven or or empathy Trying to empty my envy For whoever's holding your hand Instead of me Please, Forgive me— But, If you're reading this, It's too late; All triple sixes and Tipping the sinners With witless intentions Wet at the back of the ears But I've known you for years And I said I'd be here; I remembered the dress {Enter The Mumtiverse}

En este episodio hablamos sobre vivir en Aguascalientes, empezar una iglesia con 3 personas, el desánimo, la nostalgia del hogar, tener un corazón para ayudar y difundir el mensaje de JESÚS...

Estudio Bíblico Diario para Adultos - EN EL CRISOL CON CRISTO Fecha: 20-09-2022 Título: JESÚS EN EL GETSEMANÍ Autor: Gavin Anthony Locución: Cristina Rosas http://evangelike.com/estudios-biblicos-para-adultos/

¡¡Suscríbete al canal del Podcast Oficial de La Vuelta!! 🎧 Presenta este programa Alberto Marcos. Únete a nuestro Biwenger! https://biwenger.as.com/link?to=join%2FV2XzCVVBhxKX ⚡️ ¡Otro día con victoria española! Se impone JESÚS HERRADA al sprint, en un día en el que la fuga volvió a llegar a meta. 🔝 Se pasa por el Podcast Oficial de La Vuelta IVÁN COBO, el ciclista de KERN PHARMA, que analiza con nosotros todo lo ocurrido ayer y hoy.

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Sumario del programa GABRIEL WÜLDENMAR ORTIZ *Inteligencia espiritual. DANIEL GARCÍA *La cultura de la cancelación. MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS / JUAN MIGUEL FERNÁNDEZ *La ley del olvido. MANUEL PLATA LUQUE *El origen tibetano del Santo Grial. Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

#DEMOSCAÑA#JESÚSMURCIEGO#ISABELVALERO#PACOBONO En el programa de hoy analizamos el relato del cambio climático y demostramos con datos que es un fraude. España necesita un sistema de control político: diputado de distrito. SÍGUENOS EN NUESTRAS OTRAS PLATAFORMAS BITCHUTE: https://www.bitchute.com/channel/TmNCbvfu7IFy/ RUMBLE: https://rumble.com/account/content?type=all ODYSEE: https://odysee.com/$/invite/@demostv:a TELEGRAM: https://t.me/demostv TWITCH: https://www.twitch.tv/demoslibertad PÁGINA WEB : https://demoslibertad.com Ha llegado el momento de luchar por la libertad Política Colectiva y acabar con la partidocracia que hay en nuestra nación. Empecemos por el Diputado de Distrito ÚNETE A DEMOS EN YOTUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCGQNq48_VaF2w07lJth-yNA?sub_confirmation=1 Puedes ayudar a nuestro canal haciendo donativos en: paypal demostesoreria@gmail.com COLABORA CON DEMOS EN PATREON: https://www.patreon.com/DemosTV Conviértete en miembro de este canal para disfrutar de ventajas: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCGQN...

Por FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/Nemesis-Radio-1550831935166728/ Podcast de NEMESIS RADIO: http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-podcast-nemesis-radio_sq_f1133446_1.html CANAL MISTERIOS DE IVOOX: https://www.ivoox.com/escuchar-canal-misterios-ivoox_nq_2594_1.html Canal misterios de Ivoox: https://www.facebook.com/canalmisteriosdeIvoox/ YOU TUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7PD6Knea7eWw88rLp0vR0w E-MAIL: nemesisradiomurcia@gmail.com Por Internet a través de nuestras webs: frecuenciamurcia.es -Comenzamos la noche con nuestra compañera, ANA THEYSER, en “LA PUERTA OCULTA”, nos dará un nuevo paseo por la Murcia histórica y por esos Espíritus que Murcia esconde, esta noche con “ENTENDER MEJOR A LOS ESPÍRITUS” -De la mano de nuestro compañero el historiador PEDRO RUBIO, escucharemos en NÉMESIS RADIO, las EFEMERIDES DEL 2 DE JULIO. -En HISTORIAS, CUENTOS Y LEYENDAS, vamos a tener a nuestro compañero, JESÚS GARCÍA JIMENEZ, que viene a hablarnos de “T.C.I, CON LAS MASCOTAS, la conversión del pensamiento en voz” -En nuestra sección de CRÍMENES, nuestra compañera MERCEDES GARCÍA VELASCO, nos contará la historia de: El Macabro Crimen de MAIKEL: “Enterrado vivo en Castellón”. -Y en nuestro DEBATE, nuestros contertulios, ISRAÉL CAPEL, MIGUEL ÁNGEL RUÍZ, PACO TORRES & JOSÉ LUÍS BENLLOCH, debatirán sobre… “LOS CHEMTRAILS, ESTELAS QUÍMICAS”. “El camino es largo y está a punto de comenzar… Compinches de la noche, poneos cómodos, agudizad las orejas que empezamos…” (NEMESIS RADIO NO SE HACE RESPONSABLE DE LOS COMENTARIOS DE LOS CONTERTULIOS E INVITADOS QUE PARTICIPAN EN DICHO PROGRAMA) DIRIGEN Y PRESENTAN ANTONIO PÉREZ Y JOSÉ ANTº MARTÍNEZ

Dirige y presenta Juan Carlos Baruque Hernández Contacta: +34 687 39 80 12 - Solo WhatsApp mundoinsolitoradio@hotmail.com Sumario del programa GABRIEL WÚLDENMAR ORTIZ *Las guerras planificadas. MARÍA JESÚS ALBERTUS / JUAN MIGUEL FERNÁNDEZ *Evidencias de vida después de la vida. CONCHA VARA *Rituales abre caminos. PEDRO RUBIO *Las drogas en el arte contemporáneo. CARLOS ALBAREDA *El Incidente OVNI en Piney Woods. Canal YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCCmLplSrcdqJIyVBh7wUBUw Nuestra Web: https://mundoinsolitoradio.es Escucha el episodio completo en la app de iVoox, o descubre todo el catálogo de iVoox Originals

🙌 Contenido del programa: Repaso de la actualidad del deporte nacional e internacional (natación, fútbol, fútbol femenino, motor...), Entrevista a Jesús Mena, Adivinanzas y Diálogos deportivos. 📚 Secciones: Repaso fin de semana (Fútbol Nacional e Internacional; FutFem: repaso de la liga e internacional; Motor: F1 y motociclismo), Debate deportivo (Mbappé, Champions League, fichajes), ENTREVISTA a JESÚS MENA, director del Comité de Árbitros de la Federación Española de Ajedrez y Diálogos Deportivos (La traición). 🎙 Presentado y dirigido por Víctor Pablo Prado. 🎛 Producción: Víctor Pablo Prado. 🗣 Equipo: Víctor Pablo Prado, Emilian George Craciun, Roberto Palacios, Marco Osado, Álex Martín, Arnau González y Francesc Caules.

Por FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/Nemesis-Radio-1550831935166728/ Podcast de NEMESIS RADIO: http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-podcast-nemesis-radio_sq_f1133446_1.html CANAL MISTERIOS DE IVOOX: https://www.ivoox.com/escuchar-canal-misterios-ivoox_nq_2594_1.html Canal misterios de Ivoox: https://www.facebook.com/canalmisteriosdeIvoox/ YOU TUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7PD6Knea7eWw88rLp0vR0w E-MAIL: nemesisradiomurcia@gmail.com -Comenzamos la noche con un buen amigo del programa JESÚS PACHECO, con él hablaremos de “LEYENDAS DE LA MURCIA MEDIEVAL O ANTIGUA” -En nuestra sección de CRÍMENES, será nuestra compañera MERCEDES GARCÍA VELASCO, quien nos cuente la siniestra historia de “TODD KOHLHEPP: el asesino de las reseñas de internet” -De la mano de nuestro compañero PEDRO RUBIO, escucharemos las EFEMERIDES DE NÉMESIS RADIO. -Y en nuestro DEBATE, nuestros contertulios vienen a hablarnos de “EL EXPERIMENTO FILADELFIA” “El camino es largo y está a punto de comenzar… Compinches de la noche, poneros cómodos, agudizar las orejas que empezamos…” (NEMESIS RADIO NO SE HACE RESPONSABLE DE LOS COMENTARIOS DE LOS CONTERTULIOS E INVITADOS QUE PARTICIPAN EN DICHO PROGRAMA) DIRIGEN Y PRESENTAN ANTONIO PÉREZ Y JOSÉ ANTº MARTÍNEZ

REDIFUSIÓN Por FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/Nemesis-Radio-1550831935166728/ Podcast de NEMESIS RADIO: http://www.ivoox.com/podcast-podcast-nemesis-radio_sq_f1133446_1.html CANAL MISTERIOS DE IVOOX: https://www.ivoox.com/escuchar-canal-misterios-ivoox_nq_2594_1.html Canal misterios de Ivoox: https://www.facebook.com/canalmisteriosdeIvoox/ YOU TUBE: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC7PD6Knea7eWw88rLp0vR0w E-MAIL: nemesisradiomurcia@gmail.com -Comenzamos la noche con un buen amigo del programa JESÚS PACHECO, con él hablaremos de “LEYENDAS DE LA MURCIA MEDIEVAL O ANTIGUA” -En nuestra sección de CRÍMENES, será nuestra compañera MERCEDES GARCÍA VELASCO, quien nos cuente la siniestra historia de “TODD KOHLHEPP: el asesino de las reseñas de internet” -De la mano de nuestro compañero PEDRO RUBIO, escucharemos las EFEMERIDES DE NÉMESIS RADIO. -Y en nuestro DEBATE, nuestros contertulios vienen a hablarnos de “EL EXPERIMENTO FILADELFIA” “El camino es largo y está a punto de comenzar… Compinches de la noche, poneros cómodos, agudizar las orejas que empezamos…” (NEMESIS RADIO NO SE HACE RESPONSABLE DE LOS COMENTARIOS DE LOS CONTERTULIOS E INVITADOS QUE PARTICIPAN EN DICHO PROGRAMA) DIRIGEN Y PRESENTAN ANTONIO PÉREZ Y JOSÉ ANTº MARTÍNEZ

Le dedicamos nuestro programa 51 al FESTIVAL RIVAS FLAMENCA, que se celebra este fin de semana. Un género que nos encanta y que nos gusta dedicarle tiempo en el programa. Para eso nos hacemos acompañar de nuestro flamencólogo de cabecera PACO PAREDES, que nos ayuda a entender y conocer a los artistas que forman el cartel. También se pasan por el programa PAULA RODRÍGUEZ y LARA WONG últimas vencedoras del Festival de Cante de las Minas en disciplinas de baile e instrumento. Suenan canciones de ROCÍO MÁRQUEZ Y BRONQUIO. ESPERANZA FERNÁNDEZ&MIGUEL POVEDA. AMPARO HEREDIA "LA REPOMPILLA", LARA WONG, JESÚS MÉNDEZ Y RANCAPINO CHICO. Notas del podcast: PAULA RODRÍGUEZ: https://paularodriguezlazaro.com/ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yvf6oa5q8-o&ab_channel=CardamomoTablaoFlamenco LARA WONG: https://www.larawong.com/ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z11ys_wfOP0&ab_channel=DeFlamencoTV FESTIVAL RIVAS FLAMENCA https://www.rivasflamenca.com/

¿Qué significa ser BUENA PERSONA? ¿Que se da dinero a quien necesita? ¿Que se dan los buenos días por las mañanas? ¿Que nos acordamos del cumpleaños de los padres o amigos? Es un tema tan amplio que para algunos se les hace difícil establecer reglas para definir lo que significa vivir la bondad. En sintonía con Jesús latinoamérica hoy nos acompaña en este itinerario, con algunos tips que nos ayudan a vivir la bondad desde nuestra vida misma. Carpe diem.

Enseñanza del Domingo 20 de Febrero de 2022 Iglesia Árbol Plantado Pastor Hernán Valdés www.arbolplantado.com www.facebook.com/iglesiaarbolplantado Versículos Introducción: Deuteronomio 16:20, Deuteronomio 7:9, 1 corintios 10:13, Mateo 18:25, Lamentaciones 3:23 Versículos: Marcos 15:42-45, Lucas 23:50-51, Juan 19:38-40, Juan 19:41, Mateo 27:59-60, Juan 19:42, Lucas 23:55-56, Marcos 15:47, Mateo 27:62-66, Mateo 28:1-3, Mateo 28:4, Juan 20:1-2, Marcos 16:1-4, Lucas 24:1-4, Mateo 28:5-7, Marcos 16:5-7, Lucas 24:4-7, Mateo 28:8, Marcos 16:8, Juan 20:3-9, Juan 20:10-13, Marcos 16:9, Juan 20:14-17, Juan 20:18, Mateo 28:8-10, Mateo 28:11-15, Lucas 24:9-11, Marcos 16:10-11

Las Mañanas en Onda Aragonesa de Jimmy Blunts: Con Jesús Padilla En el Día de la Psicología, hablamos con Jesús Padilla, psicólogo del Colegio Profesional de Psicología de Aragón .

Agradece a este podcast tantas horas de entretenimiento y disfruta de episodios exclusivos como éste. ¡Apóyale en iVoox! Entrevista a Juan Miguel Fernández y María Jesús Albertus dirigida por Antonio Rodríguez Cobos en la que hemos desarrollado el tema de El Sentido de la Vida https://elojodehorus.es Grupo de Telegram: t.me/radioelojodehorus E-mail radio.elojodehorus@gmail.comEscucha este episodio completo y accede a todo el contenido exclusivo de El Ojo de Horus - Oficial. Descubre antes que nadie los nuevos episodios, y participa en la comunidad exclusiva de oyentes en https://go.ivoox.com/sq/592483

Agradece a este podcast tantas horas de entretenimiento y disfruta de episodios exclusivos como éste. ¡Apóyale en iVoox! Entrevista a Juan Miguel Fernández, María Jesús Albertus y Fermín Mayorga dirigida por Antonio Rodríguez Cobos en la que hemos desarrollado el tema de Los Seres Protectores. https://elojodehorus.es Grupo de Telegram: t.me/radioelojodehorus E-mail radio.elojodehorus@gmail.comEscucha este episodio completo y accede a todo el contenido exclusivo de El Ojo de Horus - Oficial. Descubre antes que nadie los nuevos episodios, y participa en la comunidad exclusiva de oyentes en https://go.ivoox.com/sq/592483

Agradece a este podcast tantas horas de entretenimiento y disfruta de episodios exclusivos como éste. ¡Apóyale en iVoox! Entrevista a Juan Miguel Fernandez y María Jesús Albertus dirigida por Antonio Rodríguez Cobos en la que hemos desarrollado el tema de Las Enfermedades del Alma. https://elojodehorus.es Grupo de Telegram: t.me/radioelojodehorus Canal de Telegram: https://t.me/Radio_El_Ojo_de_Horus E-mail radio.elojodehorus@gmail.comEscucha este episodio completo y accede a todo el contenido exclusivo de El Ojo de Horus - Oficial. Descubre antes que nadie los nuevos episodios, y participa en la comunidad exclusiva de oyentes en https://go.ivoox.com/sq/592483

Distintas organizaciones del ámbito político, institucional, sindical, y social, y personas del mundo de la cultura del Principado de Asturias han decidido constituir la Plataforma Asturiana Paz y Justicia Para El Pueblo Saharaui”. Es el punto de partida del programa de hoy en el que participan JAVIER G. VEGA Catedrático de Derecho internacional público y Relaciones internacionales. JESÚS SÁNCHEZ, concejal Unidas por Llangréu. ALBERTO SUÁREZ, Presidente de la Asociación Asturiana de Solidaridad con el Pueblo Saharaui. ANA ANDRÉS ABLANEDO, Presidenta de la CODOPA

Distintas organizaciones del ámbito político, institucional, sindical, y social, y personas del mundo de la cultura del Principado de Asturias han decidido constituir la Plataforma Asturiana Paz y Justicia Para El Pueblo Saharaui”. Es el punto de partida del programa de hoy en el que participan JAVIER G. VEGA Catedrático de Derecho internacional público y Relaciones internacionales. JESÚS SÁNCHEZ, concejal Unidas por Llangréu. ALBERTO SUÁREZ, Presidente de la Asociación Asturiana de Solidaridad con el Pueblo Saharaui. ANA ANDRÉS ABLANEDO, Presidenta de la CODOPA

Distintas organizaciones del ámbito político, institucional, sindical, y social, y personas del mundo de la cultura del Principado de Asturias han decidido constituir la Plataforma Asturiana Paz y Justicia Para El Pueblo Saharaui”. Es el punto de partida del programa de hoy en el que participan JAVIER G. VEGA Catedrático de Derecho internacional público y Relaciones internacionales. JESÚS SÁNCHEZ, concejal Unidas por Llangréu. ALBERTO SUÁREZ, Presidente de la Asociación Asturiana de Solidaridad con el Pueblo Saharaui. ANA ANDRÉS ABLANEDO, Presidenta de la CODOPA

Distintas organizaciones del ámbito político, institucional, sindical, y social, y personas del mundo de la cultura del Principado de Asturias han decidido constituir la Plataforma Asturiana Paz y Justicia Para El Pueblo Saharaui”. Es el punto de partida del programa de hoy en el que participan JAVIER G. VEGA Catedrático de Derecho internacional público y Relaciones internacionales. JESÚS SÁNCHEZ, concejal Unidas por Llangréu. ALBERTO SUÁREZ, Presidente de la Asociación Asturiana de Solidaridad con el Pueblo Saharaui. ANA ANDRÉS ABLANEDO, Presidenta de la CODOPA