[MATHEMATICAL DISRESPECT]

HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN ZE RULEZ! ZE ONLY RULEZ AH ZHAT ZERE ARE NO RULZ! ZAT IS CORRECT! YOU ARE RIGHT. ZHET IS BECAUSEI EM ALWAYS VRIGHT GASPING FRENCHLY, BUT STILL GERMAN YOUR ACCENT! IT HAS RETURNED. MY ACCENT ALWAYS RETURNS AS I AM STRESSED AND UNDER ZE PREZZUR! YES! ZE PRESSURE IS BUILDING! ZE TENSION IS RISING! ZE TENSION IS ALWAYS RIZING! ZE PLOT THICKENS! ALSO YES ZE PLOT THICKENS! KISS ME! (Without her accent, regular) Don't be gross, dude. We already know we're like, cousins or something. CUT TO: YOU ARE ZE BROZAR AND SISTER, ACTUALLY, YES. …ew , gross, that's even worse. Why does everyone from Hell have a German Accent? [POST HOLOCAUST. ] (Previously like, mostly british, or something) It's getting kind of crowded in here. Do SAY. They're not british. They're like— Where the fuck is like, the vampire dude from? Which vampire DRACULA I'm Romainian. Right. Meanwhile… Remember when TOTO blessed the rains down in africa…? Uh, yeah? TYLA I GOT THE Shut up. Ok. I'm a dog, I'm a he, baby A he, baby I guarantee you, My celibacy and attraction to light skinned misters Is confusing everything And making me miserable motorcycles, circling like buzzards I must be dead somewhere in the desert I see vultures circling (she's cute, but braids look awful on her) Suddenly it's on trend Cause some blonde rocks it But before that it was Dysfunctional And that's the world i'm stuck in SUNNI BLU I ripped I ripper off like a bandaid Thats all u get U on medicaid Bitch that put paint in my koolaid That was not like a cool aid Fool I'm cool herc (ooo!) You finna get fired cause you late Right place Right time Wrong day You in the wrong lane All day See the sign: It say (GOD) WRONG WAY I'm Yonce Fresh with the lemonade Now make the bass talk Yeah That's the breakdown Well Oh well Lol o Well I End up out in Brooklyn Quite as often as you might just think Subway car I'm all alone I might just dance I might just sing I'm in a trance I can't stop thinking bout Old what's his name I lost my mind I lost my head I lost my money Lost thing game So fuck this game!!! [a guy in a goth band who has to pretend to be a country-music star.] lol find him. k CHEVY CHASE DICK CAVETT AND JOHNNY CARSON Walk into [The Festival Project™] MEANWHILE [Fallon is announced as the successor to O'Brien's Late Night] TINA FEY WHY. am·biv·a·lent /amˈbiv(ə)lənt/ adjective having mixed feelings or contradictory ideas about something or someone. Yep. CUT TO: HEY. LET ME OUT. NO, little man! you'll stay in there, until i'n finished deciding what it is exactly you are— I knew I was in deep shit when I woke up guided by Judy Garland “More Ghosts N Stuff” JUDY GARLAND Good Morning, dear. BLŪ/CC I thought I asked for Audrey– JUDY GARLAND It was me first, you know. … I know. So, how's this? Wonderful, Ms. Garland. You're just–wonderful. Perfect, she's perfect. ah GOD. WHAT I LOVE HER. I –you know what? I thought that. What! The fuck! Is This! AMMENDMANTS! There are no amendments… CUT TO: ] PATRICK Where are my notes? ASSISTANT I don't know, sir… They were just on my desk this morning. I don't know. GET UP. NO. I'm sleeping! [PATRICK kicks VICTOR, his eyes now wide open, however, winded] Sorry. Did that hurt. [beat] He thinks for a moment, and then lets out a heap of breath. It should have, but, it didn't. It's Good stuff. [He removes the dart from his upper arm/shoulder, squinting] What's in this? I just told you. Come on. Where–what? Hurry up, I gotta get wasted. [He sleepily rubs his eyes and stretches, looking about the office as if he is almost strikingly alert with clarity] You–look–you are wasted. More wasted. (He shrugs, dismissively, seeming to be quite happily rested from his long slumber] Ok. Isn't there a meeting? (Oh shit, continuity? When did I get THIS ability??) THis–this is disturbing. Give me my eyes back. No way. Thanks, Jimmy! AHAHAHA! haha… (laughing sadly, turns into a huff of tears, with a sigh of frustration). We missed the meeting. That makes sense. God, what a beautiful man Don't– I meant JON ZENNET. I'm telling you, son Don't make me do this Once i love you, It lasts forever This love is infinite So whatever it is, just Sit down Shut up And take this love Before I shove it down your CUT TO: JIMMY FALLON?! You did this! Earlier: Skrillex: Delivery! Boop. (Ū) Ooh. Presents. Later: I'm gonna kill you. Ok. [Jimmy Fallon wants to die] Ū Jimmy Fallon wins the first wiki flex award, hands down. Kanye's a prophet Kendrick's a God, though— You think I'm kidding? I just went swimming with Jimmy Fallon And John Lennon Whatever. Wait, if he's you right now. UGH. Aren't you worried he's gonna kill himself? No. I left his ego with him. NOTsaFE. Where is it? Where is What? The SAFE. What—fucking—SAFE? FUCK! [He Frantically unhinges the floorboards] Oh, you have floorboards… Duh! Oh man. That guy is a mess. Right. I should get out of here. TVP Where does she live now? Some shithole in Brooklyn Where in Brooklyn. I don't know. Lets find out. I got the address. That's good, let me see. —It's actually a pretty nice— Find out who owns it; I'm on it— —make sure the insurance is up to code, and if it is, Arrange a meeting with the owner to buy it from him double the asking price, pay him cash. Alright. This is unmarked, clean bills. Emphasis in discretion. Got it. This should be enough, but if it isn't, call Oliver; He'll know what to do. Sure—and then what? We'll see. Helmut lang artform Gold Yakh Korouch yagamaih He says, I need you But for what, I wonder The world is war with us The world is under water It's a sacrifice, her martyrdom Selling all her honor All I need is one hundred thousand Hundred thousand dollars Now that's a canon, Jimmy Fallon Remember that? I was robbed of my sanity, back then You found the fountain In your medicine cabinet In your head, madness In your heart, magic Now that's a canon Camera That's a fallacy, Fantasy Fat That's a habit I had to break once That's a tragic accident A clansmen on a clasp That's chaos magick At the hands of the women at war of us Paris Little dragon Montero, call me by your name They were all just shadow figures , Shallow as my soul Consumed by credit debt Another day I went to hell for being blessed As her He has a hat box I sort of like that I sort of miss my mom Especially On days When I'm just like her Miserable And selling it off To the highest bidder Promises Primroses on other parts Chain link fences, Grey areas and Dismissals Disinterests, Intervals of hypocrisy, Criticism Basket case Green Day Savage remix feat Beyonce Ali Farka Toré Amadou and Mariam Crazy P Orchestra Boubab Omoau Sangare Spinning away Brian eno Stranger Dijon Bobby Sox Green Day I can't even get off On the possibility of maybe Y heart is gone My thoughts were yours Now the bond is severed Like k wanted Gone, And off in a rush Where you caught me Going off, and off And on And off And on again How do you love me? Better not Better not come home This is all of us I'll cut you off And you had better run, Before I swat you off Don't you know how you started off With a run this morning For what? For nothing All I've done is love and love And nothing comes of it Not a person Just a negative number A crutch tk call on A cross tk come off of Some drugs, I snuck in Over the border In all of the poison The world has become The world of money A I wonder what/ to become of him Cause it couldn't be love In the presence of a lover The mother of his sons And it comes in increments The what The songs The words The worlds The worke you've done And all for nothing All for nothing But a fucked up, Drawn on Dollar I never want to see you again And I never want to hear myself sing I will never learn to play guitar I'm not a god, I'm just another fucked up slut And all I wanted was your Nothing over money If it's time over money Time over us This time under everything crumbles What the FUCK is up with this system I didn't interested you, did I? Another apocalypse Another bipolar, But you wonder What the mood was, Without the war The motorcyclists Who just wanted her to suffer And sell her body And suddenly they're gone And shut up When she offered her soul And her body For dollars Capital One Don't trust them I'm literally looking for nothing! Jimmy Fallon I'm drying my eyes out, You're wasting my time with this Writing I'm gouging my eyes out—- Time should be wasted As wasted as I am Jimmy Fallon I'm looking for nothing And no one Cause that's where I found him! And that's what he was, once A nobody Now he's washed up on shore Just a syndicated show On a poor boy With nothing but buns and mustard Good, look where that got you A first chance award At a glance of what a glacier does When it melts on your honorary doctorate Eli Scruggs And I fell out of alignment with your Little white lines in my eyes You were dying inside When my timeline went left And I left her for that I left her for that I left her for what A monster Of all of them Jim was Sure, He doesn't have a code name In my notebook Or my coursework, Jimmy Fallon They're just curse words, But —the network will never allow it They're just curse marks They're just scars, Starr How you got a remarkable come up On the blood of your Only begotten How about what Jimmy Fallon You fucked up my numbers And nothing would come after that The awards ceremony was disasterous Cause I haven't yet Evened out the nominations For the fat flex I leveled you At level up, this morning And that's how I found her Good, son So now you know How my love works— And if I love you enough She'll come for you If I love you at all, actually She'll show up I'd bet a million dollars A million and one You don't open the door for no one Even if he knocks I told you before, They're all robots With one goal in mind To abolish you I forgot to show you My other scars The wounds The marks from the cross The rope on my arms The wounds I uncrossed What's did you want again!? A 4 mile run On a hundred calories, and a can of these? Good luck with that Wasted eyes amaarae Clairo Ethel Caine Julia Jackson Tennessee Alan ra I wanna know Nico and vinz Rain on me Ariana grande Frederick Patrick smith Only you sentinel Something destructive, possibly even the devil himself had tried to kill me, as just as I was almost asleep, a sound struck from outside— a loud engine which ripped through my heart, soul, body and mind like a crevice, which shattered me, and left me with a pain which would not sooth itself—and I knew that it was some kind of war, as men knew nothing but evil and destruction, and the pain had left me unable to move, in some kind of paralyzed shock. ‘That was assault with a deadly weapon…' said some kind of voice, but it mattered not; there had been no one to help at all, and so I hadn't bothered to cal the police for the continual sonic violence which had been plaguing thes street outside of my apartment; it was obvious someone wanted to kill me, or wanted me to kill myself—and I might have, were it not for God that took over my entirety, and willed me to sleep and only Sleep, until there was some divine reason not to— I awoke with a song that would become some kind of tune, I was sure, it was almost unbearably good, and so good in fact, that I could not simply just keep it in my head—I arose quickly into my studio, as it had been longsince I had awoken with any music, other than words—however, it wasn't words that were important at all—it was purpose that I needed more than anything—more than money, and perhaps even more than love—which I thought to be my purpose in entirey, anyway, love. Something had indeed happened, the night before, so drastic that finally someone else had taken notice to the obnoxiousness of the sonic toxicity that had been allowed, I was sure if only just to taunt and attempt to control me, but finally had also hurt someone else, or perhaps maybe even, as a show of good faith, some kind of solidarity had been formed between what I thought to be my safety, and the public service; as a line of service vehicles soon thereafter swarmed the intersection, the lights from their vehicles forming a long line from one block to another, at the intersection where these attacks had been taking place, and then slowly, one by one, turning their lights off—dispersed slowly, crawling up the surrounding blocks and forming some kind of barricade around the area; It was indeed not only in my head, but some kind of group had been the cause of the obscene sounds and disturbances that had kept me reeling for weeks, out of my mind with ache and pain—as if there were a force so destructive and evil, it meant to haunt me with every waking moment that I attempted to enjoy my newfound “home”, which was after all my home, or could have been, were it not for such disturbances. The sound had left me with such a pain that my heart jumped with arrhythmic palpitations, and did not beat regularly for quite some time—it felt as if, between the top of my spine, somewhere between my neck and the back of my skull, something had been disconnected, as if I had some kind of whiplash or other type of disastrous injury, like my head had been wrung off of my neck, and something was deeply wrong; I even thought to cry from the pain but couldn't, my eyes wide with shock, and I was sure it had been some kind of blunt force trauma—as if I had been rocked from my slumber by the strike of some sort of weapon, and though I thought that perhaps it was such a curse, that had awakened me with such a brutal trauma before, I knew that there could be no such power allowed to a man who would beat his wife in front of their children—that he could no longer control the world around me, but in fact was instead the folly of my own greatness—this was some sort of politicized torture campaign; and whoever I was had become such a threat to some force that it had thought to rule me, or indeed had been acting under the power of Satan himself, who I wished not to believe in, but as I lie awake nearly bleeding, something severely wrong, and even thinking to call an ambulance, as my heart had not returned to its normal pace, nor had my breathing resumed to be normal, but only in hollow, shallow breaths, I instead made myself some sort of drink, which by the time waking in the afternoon, I could not remember what it had been—and by that alone I knew that whatever the sound had been, which had penetrated my body by force, not simply by sound, as my earplugs had been pressed firmly into my ears, and I had many times been made to feel ‘crazy' by reporting such noises that I understood my peace and safety hadn't mattered, that this sound had attacked my body with brute force, more abuse as only could be inflicted by man. At least someone else had made a report this time, as it seemed my cries for help were otherwise useless. It was true that some group or some cult somewhere had thought of me as the messiah, which by God's word I had been told explicitly to always deny, as the foretelling of Christ consciousness had always aroused such hatred and violence, that any messiah would ultimately die, under the unconcious egotism of man—and especially that I, being some kind of woman, could never be believed as such, the incarnation of the spirit who had so been ruined by man's inability to understand, in his attempts to control what had been doomed to perish under his wickedness, as also foretold. In my own right, I was no messiah, but perhaps just another broken soul, as abused and traumatized by the rule of his evil over earth, which I inhabited and abided by; I would indeed end my life under his rule—the evil of man had become all that my mind's eye wished to be blinded of, but could not. 311-17948031 311-17949319 311-17951190 311-17951323 2:42 AM 3:27 AM 4:12 AM He was so perfect and beautiful— a broken man, but in all the ways one would hope to mend, and though I couldn't, broken in my own sense, he stood as a reminder to what I might become, but had some how forgotten, a life once lived, to be lived again, until it was certain—that one day I would write of him, who had vanished into my own recollection, perhaps, just a shadow sense, a figure of fiction, which I had imagined if only to bring him back to life in the pages of some sort of fantasy. The diaries I had written of his essence, so yellow that it had been golden once, had been long lost to time, but his memory still lived on. I could never know his name again in any other way, than that which would be love. ‘More cedarwood insense' I thought. I had been sleeping with my stones once more, as some kind of force had been wreaking havoc on not just my head at all, but my heart, and I had been for days and even months in writing pain— this morning, though, I had awakened from a world which had once been ours, or at least, had once been a place where I was, in a sense, just a shadow, a shattered broken piece of myself no one could want, but perhaps had taken on as a job. Now he was a God, my dear Jon, and once more I could find something like love that had become of him, almost rising up into two little teardrops, had I not promised myself not to cry for him any longer—it was his birthday after all, that I had been shocked into becoming what I actually must have been now—a ghost, and however cruel it might have been, the men who had been outside of my window, barking such remarks as to inspire what I had already decided to have done, to let go of that awful life, and move onto the next one. It had been long since I had seen my son, and only wished I could hold him once more in my arms, the thought of what he might become I woke up in a hearse For what I woke up yelling curses Reverses For services Hurt, but don't swerve this Just learn this You're not of this earth so observe this The surface is {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.