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Don't look

Too close

What you know

Isn't what you know;

A cold wind blows

My hopes away,

My home away from home.

I was on the wrong bus for awhile before I noticed it, or rather, the right bus, going in the wrong direction— or even, to be clearer, as the bus was marked 5554, or some other number at the end, of course overshadowed by the first sequenced numbers, always tending to me uncomfortable— even though I had attempted to wash its original meaning to my self out of my mind by replacing it with its most commonly accepted Angel number meaning—I was doing everything I could anyway to move toward forgiveness and alluding to the obvious notion that, whatever had happened between my ex and I had been for the better after all, after all was said and done ( and though it never really was), the love and our marriage were at least ended, and never to rerun to that or any relationship which would put my mind and body at risk, let alone my heart or my soul.




What's on a deadmau5?

Uh—pepperoni—

Are you sure?

Uh, yeah, probably.

Okay, what else?

Blue cheese?

What!

I mean—I don't know.

Pepperoni

Green Bell Peppers

Roasted garlic

Red pepper l l

WhiteMushroom

Link sausage

LINK SAUSAGE?

Yeah, I guess.

Why link sausage?

I'll tell you later.

Okay.




Strangely enough, of course, by the time I had realized it, though, I was back at the same intersection at which I always transferred, and though I had been in the city long enough, but not quite settled, it had been a while since I had been turned around or lost unintentionally—though I did sometimes make a habit or acurrying about in airplane mode and taking trains out of my way in order to dislodge whatever had been tracking me, whether it was supernatural or otherwise—it did seem to deter the sometimes uncomfortable and problematic psychological attacks—which, the more I studied and gave way to being some kind of targeted practice, using the empties bodies of those controlled by their phones—consistently connected to applications such as Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, and Tik Tok—“Tracking Apps” which I called them, and was not wholeheartedly against so much as without need for them, as my need for any sort of affection—especially the false instant gratification one might gain or lose, becoming victim to the racially programmed algorithms and calculated population division and psychological terrorization of an entire generation; no judgement passed, but I had been careful to remind myself that whatever was happening by way of social media was a cultural and non-televised revolution, from which I wanted no part of. Still, I had noticed that when a high number of coughing people did happen to find my way around my presence, I was connected to some sort of network, and that those particular people were typically visibly sick in some other way—scrolling mindlessly, or without the light or life in their eyes left, eating poisonous food, or acting in the way of some other unworldly seeming sickness; I began to cope of course with the comfort that, in the event of bad intentions having been set on me in any individualist mindset—a curse would be returned tenfold if not more.

I think link Larkin is lurking

I like it!

I'm cravin a link aausage in this obsirdisty

Dirty as the Mother Earth

Ohh lol link sausage.

That only took a year.

What if I have to listen to deadmau5 all night every night forever?

Like deadmau5 does?

Not every night. Just work nights.

Oh wowZ.

Damn fucking right.

Wherems th—

Nvm

Fuck Dillon Francis

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT.

Ugh.

How'd you get in?

An autographed picture.

Ah.

How'd you get in?

Poster on the wall.

Nice.

…how'd you get in?

The hard way.

What's the hard way?

I'll tell you later.

Ah, fuck. I'm living in my head again.

That's not so bad, is it?

No. It's a lot of — uh.

Deadmau5.

I mean, at the moment— but like I said, it's—

Whatever happened between you two is not my business.

What is your business.

Robotics.

With any luck…

Brooklyn Barclays Center

March 20

10-4

Ugh.

The scar over my right eye, which my ex husband had carved into the shape of an eye using my own house key began to warm and tingle, but not quite burn, as it had in the past—the scythe shaped scar on the inside of my lip began to well up as I clenched my teeth, running my tongue against the back of my teeth as not to give it any more power or attention—I had decided after all, that even my worst enemies were just myself, and though

Blissful abstinence,

Selective honesty, and

Strategic thinking—

Syncinf, cleaning sinks

And letting it all sink in

Secret keeping

You look lost.

Go figure,

Sunnï Blū in an all-red sprinter

I don't want to live here,

I just wanna go somewhere to go.

And say “I been there”

Been dere,

Bender

Been in a Benz, dear l l l

Spin clear— I'm Sinclair

Windex on a big mirror!

I guess I'll see you when I see you

I guess I'll see you when I see you

I guess I'll see you when I see you

I guess I'll see you when I see you

If you talk less,

The less you have to lie, I guess



Why be mad at God?

God's not mad at me;

Waiting for the world to end

Waiting for a song to sing

Or anything that

Makes me feel like I'm living

Like I'm living in anything

Other than the

Everything

Everything is everything.

Dang—

Was I really that hangry?

Am I really that angry?

I don't know why you hate me

But lately—

I really don't care no more!

Dang!

Nothings the same these days

Not even your name

Nothings the same

Not even the way it feels,

Cause lately—

I really don't care no more

Careful, Kay—

You know I ain't crazy

Ain't gonna pay to be played with;

(But I might get paid though)

No, I really don't care how you feel

I don't care how it ends

You don't care how I live

I don't care who wins

I'm not in this—

Illumianti shit

I don't care no more

I really don't care

I really don't care

I really don't care no more

Top

Oh,

I missed the last 5 songs

Writing you another one

Really don't care no more



Sometimes it's a half, or a whole thing—

Sometimes it's living your life and not worrying about where you're going

Maybe it's a no

Maybe there's just no maybes

Maybe I'm

ELOHIM is a NANNY and struggling musician

Why would she be struggling?? She's white and prett.

Is she Jewish?

That might be it.

#OWSLACONFIDENTIAL

it happens to all of us, you know.

Does it though?

He does it for the music!

What music might that be?

Look, you idiot!

I thought those could be m his kids with you honestly, before I decided you were the nanny.

How would these be his kids?

Cause they're beautiful!

The older one's already taller than him.

That happens, sometimes.

Look, you gotta know something.

How did you even find me hiding in this deadmau5 construct?

This is a game of strategy!

Be quiet,

Be cautious;

The Illuminati's watching

Here's a front man,

Don't do much, man

Give up your past

And lastly, your intentions

Hey.

Hey.

Do you wanna like—get married and have kids, or—

—I wanna party and get fucked up until we kill each other—

I like learning my lessons the hard way.

So, sex then?

No more sex.

So much sex.

This is hardly enough money, Dillon.

I know, it's—

I can't sell you anything for this.

Oh, come on!

Ugh, this nigga is corny.

I just thought it would be funny.

It isn't funny anymore.

You will stand the test of time.

You will stand the test of time.

You will stand the test of time.

You will stand the test of time.

How about a dollar

For every time I thought about the father of my child,

(Yet unborn)

It's wild, innit?

The shit we pull just to pull up to Skrillex

And be respected for anything

Instead of resented.



The best transmutation I could commit to was to change my triggers into positive intentions, turning 4:20 into DillonnFrwncis forever reason just in case it did need to be as easily discarded,

Still, something seems missing

It doesn't seem worth it

I want to move up,

But I gotta move under

And everything under the son is just wonderful;

He'll find another mother for his son and his daughter soon—

That's what I wanted

That's what I wanted

That's what I wanted;

A wonderful world for him

Don't talk too much about the truth,

If you don't want it

All I really ever wanted was a husband,

And a love life,

And a come up on an comet—

But I probably lost it all at once

Accomplishments and comments

On the Carters

Stop

The

Promises

Sonny's not coming.

I mean, this algorithm says otherwise

Does any one else really wanna be this guys wife?

Listen, look—check this out, guys.

I don't like this part.

I love this part.

I'm gonna go ahead and send all of these

[fully compatible matches]

Your way.

Lord have mercy

Oh, Jesus Christ.

You're welcome.

Okay, Satan, here it is.

You mean it?

I mean it—just—

Uhuh.

Before I sign this

Uh-huh

And give you my soul

You're selling it.

I—no, I'm—I'm just— giving it to you.

I beg your pardon.

Please, don't beg.

What do you mean?

I am going to give you my soul.

Yeah, for what?

Just—for Free.

For FREE? WHY?

Look this — thing—

[super shiny soul]

Feels a lot.

Yes

—like, too much—

Well, yeah, that's—

So I'm giving it to you.

But, for what?

For free, dude.

Yeah—but what do you want from me?

Nothing, you're gross.

I'm not gross.

You're fucking gross, man.

You know what? Forget the paperwork. Just take it.

Uhhhhh

It's a gift.

SATAN has never been given a gift.

Aww, that's sad.

It's not sad. He's very unpleasant.

UGH.

Every time I saw the perfect type of woman I wished I was— I thought of Sonny, and anothe tip in my soul—then, I turned the thought into a magnificent force of motion—to wish him nothing but the very best, and move on.

Dah daba da da da badabadah

DABADABADABADABADAH

—Vanilla.

Sunni, what are you doing?

That's the hook.

“Vanilla?”

Yeah.

ITS A HIT.

What?

It went Diamond.

MORGAN

Nooo….

shut up, Morgan—you fuckin hater?

I'm not a hater, I just hate this song.

I hate all your songs!

What songs?! I don't make music!

EXACTLY. SHUT UP.

Later:

Nominated for a GRAMMY

MORGAN

You're fucking kidding.

FUCK OFF, PUMKIN SPICE.




pipe it up// arugula

Sunni, I can't fight all these charges.

I'm fighting the charges! You're just my lawyer!

Just because you have all the money in the world, it doesn't mean you can do whatever you want.

Yes it does.

SUNNI, YOU KICKED A BABY?

Before:

Getcha bow legged ass baby out my way!

[swings leg, cut back to]

You can't DO that.

He was wearing a diaper!

SO!

Built in padding! .

SUNNI.

JIMMY FALLON IS IN TEARS, riding a fully packed bus through the Bronx after being separated from AMY PEOLER**sp AND TINA FEY

There he is!

Jimmy, you idiot!

You found me!

I think we can all agree, Homeless Jimmy Fallon is the most tragic Jimmy Fallon.

I thought long haired Jimmy Fallon was pretty tragic.

Tall Jimmy Fallon had me confused—

Yeah but blue eyed Jimmy Fallon.

BLUE-EYED JIMMY FALLON

…hey.

No, fuck this.

Am I doing it right?

No! I quit.

I M A G I N A R Y. F R I E N D S

Flashback, Season 4

Speaking of assholes…

Dillon Francis has just become Captain of The Assholes, a special branch of selected Motherfuckers.

What is happening?

Deadmau5 hacked into SUPACREE'S conciousness with computer programming.

(OOOHHH).

That sounds like a hassle.

Wait tho, didn't Dillon Francis do exactly the same thing, but with like magic or something?

YEAH! HE DID!

(Wow.)

But wait— but Skrillex did it first



((God is Good))

Shhhh! We're gonna miss something important—

—but like—with frequencies—

—like genetic synethisis, or something?

What's “genetic synesthesis” exactly?

What the fuck are you nerds watching?

SHHHHHH!

DEQTHWISJ

Just, Jump, Natalie.

Oh shit! Now what's happening.

Don't do this to me.

You did it, I'm just watching.

What the fuck is happening?!

Just jump!

Did you change the channel? Where is SUPACREE?!

What the fuck.

Go back!

You can't! It's a live premiere or something!

What!

It's like a livestream—! Kind of!

What channel is this?!

It's not a channel, it's an application!

So close the application and restart it or something!

You can't, it's it's the beta version and I got it illegally!

What!

I'd you exit the application, it just deletes itself—or something—!

What the fuck are you guys doing?'

NOTHING!

Go back to your hole and write math problems, or something.

Well, okay then.

The fourth roommate, dressed in all black adorned with a hoodie, slinks back into the hallway, disappearing into a darkly lit room—

Sitting behind the illuminated screen of a custom computer set up, the fourth roommate takes off her hood, revealing herself to be COUGHS, a popular celebrity photographer, best known for her work with real-world SONNY/SKRILLEX

The sound of her nails typing quickly against the keyboard of the still darkly-lit room becomes the prominent sound, over her roommates arguing in the background, as we fade into the background of a green and black coding screen.

T H E

L E G E N D

O F

S Ū P A C R E E

Let the stones fall where they may;

I might bend,

But I just won't break

Let the cards fall how they may—

There's no mistakes

I made the game up



{Enter The Multiverse}



[The Festival Project.™]



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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©



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