Episodios

  • {Impractical Illusions.}

    {Impractical Illusions.}
    May 10 2025

    I can't get what to make at all of anything of these

    Interesting sequences

    Even equestrians keep secrets

    Mirror imagine investments

    —are these things working.

    Suffering longer and taking harder naps

    Are you wanted

    Or are you forgotten, wanderer.

    Wonton soup

    And I don't look at you

    We belong to a group

    Of individuals purposes

    —and you'd thought I'd never write like this again

    But here it comes

    Equinox

    Orgasm.

    Apocalypse on the ground floor.

    Are you there now?

    You know I can't talk more about it

    And I get nervous

    Just as you

    When I wear

    Dark sunglasses and it's cold out

    What have you done with the moonlight?

    No glow.

    Discrepancies and moving forward

    Server keeper?

    Oh, no, she's 24 with a double majors

    And masters grants,

    Moving forward,

    She's alright

    But I just can't last moving forward

    I could lap up the doorstep if I wanted

    I could also poison your water

    You get discounts

    I've been poor before

    But bordering on insanity

    You guessed it, hard times!

    I guess I had a rule for that,

    I guess I failed the clamshell

    Half baked,

    And Jesus I've never met someone expecting

    Or resentfully respectful as this matron

    But don't you get it, animatronics?

    Don't you get it at all?

    I'm not half her twice

    I'm lost in dismeter

    Shorter than others and

    Not quite stout

    But still not petite either

    And I'm bound to it, I guess

    But still don't respect the guesswork

    I chose her for you,

    And sink into the shadows,

    She's so arduous a task

    But her ain't worth it

    And.

    Freddie's barreling from cliffs

    And this is why she changed her name

    The rabbit calls and no Soleïl in sunlight at all

    And all the rabbit has is

    Plummeting towards the ocean

    In a winnebego

    Can I get you crab cakes?

    There's nothing for us in these copper goldmines but

    Ravaged!

    The plummet;

    I should have called someone about that

    SUNNI BLU

    now you crashed my winnebego INTO THE OCEAN.

    You idiot.

    FRED-ISH

    I knew you had magic powers!

    SUNNI BLU

    Of course I have magic powers! Goddammit! But this is not that! I bought this on Amazon and it cost a fortune and you know what!

    FRED

    What.

    SUNNI BLU

    It's only meant for ONE person;

    ONE—

    BAND MEMBER

    This is incredible!

    OTHER BAND MEMBER

    I'm alive! We're alive!

    SUNNI BLU

    Now I'm going to have to get this entirely recalibrated.

    FRED

    You bought this on Amazon!?

    SUNNI BLU

    I buy everything on Amazon!

    {Enter The Multiverse}

    [The Festival Project ™]

    The Complex Collective ©

    COPYRIGHT THE FESTIVAL PROJECT ™, INC. 2015-2025 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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    57 m
  • - | 10 MINUTE HIA/TUS.

    - | 10 MINUTE HIA/TUS.
    May 9 2025
    /WORMWOOD. Classroom's been abandoned You wish you knew what time it is You wish you knew what time it is freshly lit cigarette You know I like the smell of it but don't bite in it yet Not the taste of your tongue, o You just gonna Let it burn let it burn What in the world do I got to live a karate chop for What do I got a car in the world for I don't Let it all burn I just saw the weirdest window display On one side it had all ourfumes— for the girls— And on the other side, , it had all binoculars— For the guys, I guess Dang somebody really love Diego But I don't I'm metropolitan Avenue Leaves that look like butterdlies God, I really like a redhead and a greyhound Stop at the crosswalk But the bird saga you're all mine God, there's so many men that I don't deserve Tell me why did I come here And where did I come from If not for this love than for what If not for this truth Must the truth I wait my life for a designer god But I bet it all on the wrong bloke Now flat broke And sloppy drunk U got it wrong, But I got the whole turn load I think i@00 take the long way about l use I don't know where I am Don't know if you noticed It mi just don't give a damn. I just don't give a damn. I like this girl's vibe, she's not a natural blonde That's a lucky girl— And a very lucky dog I'm at the late night deli Thinking bout a late night show Sometimes getting lost in New York Is the only way to come home It's a school! But I thought it was a prison Or a soundstage What's the difference Anyway In this city I legitimately don't care About anything or anybody Intimately Or romantically Technically or homeopathically That's what I want Malibu I'm so sick of living in a trash pail I can't tell the right wrong or wrong Or do or don't Or good from bad anymore So sick of living in a trash pail When I start seriously thinking of suicide Then along comes the radio tower Mi was new York's favorite girl But now i'm old and washed up Motorcycles I put my money on the wrong horse I put all my money on the wrong host I got lost in New York And the horrible still followed Go fire [go figure] I wrote the source code So you admit it. Yes. You've committed the greatest crime of all humanity. Is it? So, You'd admit to it? —if it was? I've already admitted to it. Re write. From memory? Entirely from scratch. Okay. Okay. Okay, I— not with this! The processor unplugs and tosses away the keyboard. That was very over dramatic. YOU wrote the source code. Okay. I—yeah. Now write it again. Not a glitch. With!? He pulls out a legal pad and ballpoint gel pen. With this—- W—is this a gel pen?! It is indeed a gel pen. What if it smears??? It will absolutely smear! Are you kidding me with this?! YOU wrote the source code. Okay! I'm programmed to the source code! Correct. Now, do it— I'm a computer programmer! This is a ballpoint pen—! You're goddamn right! —a fucking gel pen for christs sakes! That's what you get for doing this! Jesus Christ. He can't save you now…because he's part of the source code! Actually no, that guy‘s real. I—beg your pardon. I couldn't make that shit up if I tried. What. …Knew A guy in college. Water into wine. Cool kid. What. At last give me a mechanical pencil or some— You will use the pen and you all like it Back at what I still don't call home Wonder how many dimensions I've gone If any at all L I S T E N L E G E N D S LOOK. ITS LUNELL. LUNELLE. HEHEHE. THAT'S MY GOD! {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project ™] The Complex Collective © COPYRIGHT THE FESTIVAL PROJECT ™, INC. 2015-2025 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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    35 m
  • {WOBBLE BROS.}

    {WOBBLE BROS.}
    May 9 2025
    It was surreal, I was off the grid and in airplane mode, and completely lost without giving a care I was so frustrated that I just kept waking. Just when I started to seriously consider suicide, with the exact timing of my thoughts reaching the logistical point that ‘there was really nothing let in the world for me'— then it appeared right before my eyes; as if it had just sprung up in my path. I wasn't worried that I was lost, or even panicking in a suicidal spiral, I just thought to myself “It's really time to go.” Then, the radio tower, which looked something like a sigil that had been appearing to me over and over. It made no other kind of sense; my phone wasn't connected to the internet, nor was maps installed; my location was off and in lockdown mode, and I knew I had missed the turn for Whole Foods… and just kept walking. In airplane mode, listening to heavy rock, wondering why I should even try at anything at all when Suddenly i realized It was a radio station. I didn't know what kind of music, but it didn't matter— I had music in all the genres. And though it was with intense irony that I had pretty much entirely given up on DJing, especially for the moment— here was this, something I just stumbled upon after walking what seemed pretty aimlessly into an almost suicidal frame of mind— not unheard of. My apartment was a hellscape and walking around Brooklyn was not much difference, besides that I was in the noise rather than on top of it. Either way, it was so exact I couldn't tell whether it happened before or at the same time, almost as if the universe's response to my logical needing to just kill muself off before it could get any worse was this thing I had very recently, pretty much entirely meaningfully abandoned. Trying to be a DJ. Was I trying? I didn't know. But either way, I had music out and business cards in my pocket, and so here it just must have been where I was walking to, anyway. At least I got rid of the trackers by confusing them— and myself— by completing a large circle in the opposite direction of the way I was sure I was supposed to be going. I'm hungry And I'm lonely And nobody loves me anyway I never feel at home And look Nobody wants me anyway My body is a rotting truck Nobody wants me anyway I might as well have been a corpse Nobody wants me anyway lol Didn't it have like ham, And— — both these cheeses. Cojita and queso blanco. With like— Pinapple, I think— And like, a kosher dill pickle. Hence the Dill. I guess. It was a really good sandwhich. Yeah. Oh well. When the friend in your head ends, And just drops dead, so you run in With the old hog for a laugh and a couple of Drops of syrup Water fountain Now I'm hungry It's been years But who the fuck is counting. We all made bad decisions and choices Mine was to jump first, Yours comes with comfort, a petite stature And a long slovic look with an axe tongue And a language no one on earth speaks But those who had what most or none do And you wonder why I close my eyes and suffer harder in oceans of blondes Far off looks of lost souls Eyes of oceans And no monuments without our fortunes Wrong, bud. I put it on a kings Hawaiian roll One for ever one I've suffered We have the same deck of cards, Only mine can talk, son Look, I wrote you an open socket Conform to nothing Nobody loves me, anyway cause I get hungry Go be a husband, dope boy Go be a Carhart, countryman Go be a store bought doughboy That ought to solve it Dropped you on Stop that Round the corner 9 holes of golf left I told you who won that Round one What a way to die What a way to live What a way to love King James! What away to lose. What away to tie. What a way to die. What a way to lie! King James! I've got bibles for miles And eyes on my articles, Isis on cycles And Christs in criseses I put a thorn on your mailbox Will you promise to prick it? The finger I picked it! The truth was involved And in blood it was written The ritual sense, Pretenses Pretend this didn't happen “I didn't” I swore throat on your mailbox I promise I nailed the mailman and ten blondes Just not to fawn at the thought of ya Fawn at the thought of you But oh am I woke on my tired Regardless I simple don't write in code —till I'm inspired. Woah! What a lovely scroll you wrote! King James! What the fuck made me write that? Scallions! There's a million ways to die And oh, The toll of having Wolverine Wrapped around your finger Aspartame Had better bitter sanctions From the tales of old Histophcles And obstacles The Oxford girls? More tour bus stories, Blonde hair Broke Bloke, Tits and tits and Have you written any sentiments About your post mortem. Of course. I even put my will in order It's obvious they want me dead And rather than a lover There simply is no love left! String her up and ...
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    39 m
  • [GREENSENSE.]

    [GREENSENSE.]
    May 9 2025

    I feel like that would be a–

    coincidence?

    No, I don't think so

    THERE ARE NO COINCIDENCES. THATS A CHALLENGE.

    CUNTFACE.

    0.0

    WHAT DID YOUJUST CALL ME.

    FUNTCASE.

    WHAT.

    IT'S A DJ–

    WHAT!

    GROUP–OR WHATEVER.



    FUCK THESE MOTHERFUCKERS.

    ALRIGHT.

    i'm just looking for one….

    three . .

    Three things.

    Fuck.

    FUCK.

    I WILL

    Erase you off this planet with just a smirk,

    Mother earth, motherfucker!

    Father time? None of that!

    Don't have time for

    FIGHTING

    –PLAYIN GAMES.

    MPC.

    or firefighters.

    Sims of holographs

    And I can barely keep up with myself

    No masks

    And no photographs

    I'll take you out with twins on my back

    I think i need a nap

    I need a whole staff of rappers

    Just to cypher the shit that's about to happen

    ACTION:

    ATTACK!

    Fuck it, I just need a

    It could be any kind of

    LIGHTNING STRIKES.

    That'll do.

    I didn't think you were–

    Oh yeah. I'm into this game.


    Really.

    Oh yeah. I do MMORPGs.

    This is not a–

    Uh, yes, it is.

    Do NOT LAUNCH your lunchbox,

    For this

    For starters,

    It's like starting a car when it's hard out

    But it's frozen,

    So it stutters;

    And that's what it's like not to know you

    I'm only in audience twice

    Enviro

    Watching my beans and my rice

    Not oats though

    I get by on hoping i die

    Wnen I open my eye up 1iota

    I don't know what I behold

    though

    WHAT THE– I'M ALIVE! I'M ALIVE!

    Oh no, sir, I don't think you are!

    You can hear me?!

    …no.

    Hey wait, excuse me,

    YOU ARE FAR BEYOND OUT OF BOUNDS, HERE.

    WHERE IS HERE.

    NO–WHERE.

    Hey–

    Wait a minute–Don't i know you?

    [suddenly remembering, but in obvious denial.]

    No.

    No. Nevermind.

    [squinting discerningly]

    {Enter The Multiverse}

    [The Festival Project ™ ]

    The Collective Complex ©

    COPYRIGHT THE FESTIVAL PROJECT ™ , INC. 2019-2025 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

    -whoever, honestly, really, at this point.

    (-Ū.)
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    34 m
  • IFeel.

    IFeel.
    May 2 2025

    Enter The Multiverse}

    [The Festival Project ™]

    Fonts get into into it

    Quinta Brunson

    In the box

    Or is your frontin

    He said,

    “I want to hurt you”

    Did you?

    Did you?

    I want to hold you,

    Dissolve you

    Completely disarm you—

    Did you—

    Did you?

    I don't want to feed you to the wolves

    But I absolutely will

    I absolutely will if I have to

    “I wanted to hurt you.”

    Said,

    Did you?

    Did you?

    I wanted to hold you.

    Did you?

    Did you?

    I don't want to harm you;

    Completely disarm you

    Did you?

    Did you?

    A complete totality.

    A complete fatal—

    Did you ask me?

    For what, I wonder

    I was nobody at all

    I'm no one

    I don't want to feed you to the wolves

    But I absolutely will if I have to.

    Problem solved.

    (I Wonder.)

    Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ |

    Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved.

    -Ū.
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    8 m
  • YAYAYA.

    YAYAYA.
    May 2 2025

    Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ |

    Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved.

    -Ū.
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    4 m
  • [The Unknown.]

    [The Unknown.]
    May 2 2025
    Had no idea I was recording but here's what I got after like 6 minutes of my stomach gurgling and some extremely uncomfortable shallow breathing. Somebody should tell her. Can you walk my dog Before we fuck? My girl's not home. Wanna walk my dog. My neighbor is cheating on his girl but that's not my business. YOU LET HER WALK OUR DOG!!!? BEFORE: V.O. That's not my neighbor… [an evil blonde girl with blue eyes smiles maliciously as she exits the building walking a small black dog] …But that's their dog. LATER THAT NIGHT. V.O. I heard them fucking through the paper thin walls of the apartment. That is definitely not my neighbor. …somebody should tell her. YOU LET HER WALK OUR DOG?! That is not my business. Gee, God, I thought you'd never show up. [ensues Horrible guitar playing with acrylic nails] Self You never employ these two fingers. Also Self Cause they don't work. Try medicating that. They would try! (No thanks, I'll do it myself.) Dumb twat. I don't want to call people that… Thats's just what I am. Yo. Somebody tell her! Somebody tell her! …that's not my business. Maybe she already know. Cabinet slamming is a nasty business! YOU LET THAT BITCH WALK OUR DOOOOOG?! Yo, fuck that dog. Ugly ass chihuahua. [ensues more bad guitar playing with acrylic nails.] [basic ass surf music and some suspicious ass licks] [atrocious traffic noise] Jack went down the rabbit hole Jill came back and asked for more Then she saw that Jack was gone [over all] After all she all, She carried on After all, she carried on After all she carried on After all she carried on. Heheheh. [ghetto people yelling in the street like animals] Jack flew down the wishing well… [car honking that always honks whenever I try to make music and start succeeding (but never actually leaves the lot.)] What happened first? Uh. Jack went down the rabbit hole. Yeah. And then? Auh— [nothing], Jill didn't follow him. She just carried on. Jack flew down the wishing well. [the traffic pics up; the ghetto people start acting a fool. Yes. My windows are closed. My focus is broken by the noise.] Crème filling! Nothing but— crème filling! Oh! I want a croissant. A wonderful croissant with butter And Crème filling. A wonderful croissant With butter! And crème filling especially when— —rare! Especially when! Crème filling. Crème filling. A croissant. What kind of croissant. A delicious croissant. With— butter! —and A — special— No— Delicious— With— Butter And Crème filling. A— Delicious croissant With butter And Crème Filling Where are we from? Obviously this place is hell. Why am I here Why am I here Why am I here A… Fabulous croissant. [mind you, I've still no idea I'm recording. ] V.O. actually, I was assuming I wasn't. Monologue/ talk with God [The noise picks up and I get up to record the evidence that my right to peace and quiet enjoyment of my property have been violated severely— then I realize I've been recording the whole time.[ Oh shit. (Well, there's your answer.) I didn't know I was recording. Well, thats's how this all started. And I guess, how it ends. It's true, I started the series by accident when in my homeless despair, my talking to God out loud began being recorded by my iPhone just turning itself on and recording at random. In this instance, I had probably started the recording for the motorcycles and forgotten about it, but having been sick for days from the motorcycles and noise to no avail, I had begun to exhibit symptoms of extreme stress much akin to the homelessness in which the series started; erratic behaviors such as speaking freely out loud without the intention of being heard— and yet being heard anyway. I wasn't happy in New York, and I still felt homeless. The insanity might have been trademark New York, but it wasn't trademark me. I counted my blessings and all of my change; I knew I would have to leave for my own health, but I didn't know how—and returning to the streets was not an option. I was done playing the victim, and done complaining— my stomach churning with indigestion and my head gnawing with the congestion of a two year long head cold. Something needed to change, and rapidly— New York was turning against my mind, and my mind was turning against my body. This was no game— it was somebody's business. But to me, it was personal. This was my mind and my body being tampered with, and my soul remained at large. Something else entirely was begging to take over; whatever was attempting to destroy me had to be destroyed. Immidiately. This happy accident had to have been the end of the series— the show would come down soon and everything I had written with it. My life and my safety were at stake. I had nothing to ...
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    32 m
  • [closure.]

    [closure.]
    May 2 2025

    I represent the respectful west coast

    Dressed to reflect my deepest and innermost thoughts

    I just bought some time

    And a plot of land

    I just lost my mind

    But I found the promised lands

    Kick rocks and aim all your trash into waste baskets

    Instagram brats with fake stats and bad habits

    Awake but not woke

    Got cash but still broke

    Suffocating in a choke hold

    New York must think I'm New, too

    But I'm so old.

    Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ |

    Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved.

    -Ū.
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    1 h y 5 m
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