hoe_math

@hoe-math Here's to Standford: The kids with connections Collected inffference and sexual negligence Twisting into depression Alarming, but expected To exceeding expectation Degrading expressions Undressed just to get back to bed On with dinner, Which doubles as breakfast “Parallel Algorithms” BLŪ : @CODENAMEBLU is watching EAGLE EYE over an intensely large burrito. …graduated with a degree i parallel algorithms and quantum electronics. Wait. Pause. :||pause. ooh. He just said. (I n SyNEthETHICS) P A R A L L E L A L G O R I T H M S. … “Parallel Algorithms…” …deadmau5. This is not a coincidence. Could be a stretch. Haven't slept in awhile– God, I needed to eat. Finish writing this. It's really hard with a burrito in my hand. I just watched you inhale a giant brurito. Google, Define Parallel Algorithms. Tell me why all I see is math. Cause it's math. You're right. In computer science, a parallel algorithm, as opposed to a traditional serial algorithm, is an algorithm which can do multiple operations in a given time. It has been a tradition of computer science to describe serial algorithms in abstract machine models, often the one known as random-access machine. Random Access… I got it. [Random Access Memories] You're not wrong. Yeah, but I don't know what to do with being right. Finally. God damn. I cannot possibly have invented time travel. I told you. I don't even believe in time. We're making connections. I'm going braindead I'm going deaf. Well, that's tragic Look, I just need you to unlock this one , key component, okay? I don't understand. You do understand. No, I don't understand, why I understand. His music is math. Precise. My senesthesia has the tendency to cause problems beyond not only that of my own comprehension, but apparently the entir human specie's comprehension, of consciousness and in and of existence in itself. That's not possible. It is possible. Here's the science: Oh, so this is beyond– Beyond. Look, if I could tell you what deadmau5 looks like without giving myself an aneurysm PREVIOUSLY, AT DEADMAU5. Oh, time travel. You got it? I can only like, 9th grade math, dude. You got this. …I do not got this. You got this. I DO NOT, GOT THIS. MEANWHILE, IN MEXICO Wtf is that dude. What are examples of parallel algorithm. …deadmau5. Get off my dick. look . i didn't mean for it to turn out this way, but there's some pretty cool shit in here. I know . I put it there Please, someone tell me how i'm supposed to be studying a feild of science that is nonexistent. It is existent. Scientifically. It is–scientifically existent. As a course of study. —That's where you come in. What. That's where I what. And there it was; it was devastating, and horrible–the feeling of knowing I had indeed made a connection to something, and as to exactly what could be so horribly beyond me; It was like having a ghost as a friend–worse than imaginary— and as I had already been recently haunted by Aliocha, and his already somewhat- secondary existence, my deadmau5 security blanket was no longer so much a comfort as is was an obligation or nessecity, and— less of an obsession as to know anything more about the actual human than I already had–I simply couldn't be that kind of fan, (or at least thought ,anyway). The intimacy with the music itself had succumbed into a sufferable obession of sorts–more needing it and wanting it all the more just to focus, calm, or relax , even perhaps using it to coax myself out of body— even if just for the time being, to escape the current reality. Now, it wasn't so much of an escape as it was a step back, whereas within the confines of what I had so called ‘the deadmau5 construct', I could look from outside of myself with such depth that it became almost secondary to make the connections which were needed and unseen from a perspective of being so within myself that the without had been nearly forgotten; It was as if at will, I could travel to a parallel dimension above or beside my own to navigate and my very own ompipotence. ‘man ‘, I thought to myself, “i might never see you guys again' Perhaps I meant it just as a fan, but the world as it was seemed so much further away from deadmau5 or Joel, Sonny or Dillon than it had ever been–The Festival Project included, and rather than sinkinking into a deep depression over whether or not I was accomplished, I had now plummeted into over drive; 48-hour insomniatic work days which would run into the night, and then the next day–never ceasing for a moment or considering giving up what I had felt I had earned–the right to not give so much of a fuck about what society expected of me as anyone besides the person who would, eventually, see an end to this project; I had finally realized that, if I completed my project or at least organized it enough so that it was palatable, in the right hands, The Festival Project was pure gold, There was nothing like it in the world, and if I didn't find a way to make it come to fruition, it would die with, or even before I did. ‘Fuck, I'm so tired. ‘ For the first time in what seemed like forever, I was actually a little lonely—certainly sad, and very, very tired. It seemed that last two days had never even stopped, only run into eachother, an now was another on fast approach–soon, another orange east coast sunrise would glimmer of of the unattainably shiny facades of Manhattan; the unbeatable view from my 8th story , I had recently realized , would not be possible at all living in the city itself. The truth of the matter was, I lived no where–and until I fgured a way to sort my finances out without running myself into the ground, it felt most times like I wasn't living at all, of course–and the further and further I drifted from my original intentions–settling upon how absurd it would be to actually try to be a superstar DJ–the more the reality set in that the music itself was taking me further than I had ever seen, or had certainly dreamed, and though still just a msilly and obsessive fan girl of sorts–the shapes and colors that presented as such time and time again began to allude to something more important entirely–time itself–something it seemed the whole species couldn't seem to wrap itself around, however–I had been in and out of body through time and space for years now with my ghosts, superstar djs, lovers, and imaginary friends–and it seemed altogether the conscious and waking world was nothing but a displayed illusion of sorts , becoming less concrete with every waking moment–more alogorithmic with every glitch, and more untimely with every moment passing as so–as time began to run rampant and unravel ever so eloquently within the frequencies and functions of my cosmic security blanket; I knew that whatever it was, it had been intended for me in my own existence–for without it, I would not be so myself- I was the music. This needs editing. I'm too tired. Why is the font bigger? … … ….Deadmau5. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©