Episodios

  • Garden of Evil. (Insturmental)

    Garden of Evil. (Insturmental)
    Aug 11 2025
    Lil bitz So I'm watching this is it I love Michael Jackson, So I have this movie queued up for a couple days And I finally get to watching it, And it's been a quiet few days So I'm watching this movie in like silence. And it's so eerie to watch Michael Jackson rehearse in this like full stadium for nobody at all— Almost like, telling of the actuality of him impending death— but I'm watching this, and I'm like, really into it, you know, paying attention to all the details, and it gets to the part, one of my favorite songs: And it's showing him rehearsing like Jam, and you know, it's one of my favorite songs so I know all the words, and he's dancing— going like 110% in rehearsal. I trained in dancing for a little bit— most people don't do that. In rehearsal it's usually conserving your energy and just about the mechanics of everything, you know, the rehearsals leading up are like “75-80%” you know the drill, you get it down, but you conserve your energy for the big rehearsals— the dress rehearsals and the opening nights and the entirety of the tour— you don't want to burn our. But not Michael Jackson. This dude is going 400% at rehearsal, everytime you see him, which is why he's the absolute catalyst of professionalism for performance. But I'm watching him rehearse this at full, max-level energy, and he's aiming “Jam! Jam!” And I'm thinking about how literally this is just before he died, and he's really going all-in singing “Jam! It ain't too much for me!” And I can't help thinking about the irony of this, is that… ‘Like, actually, it is.” Like it was too much for him… because he did this— And then died shortly after. So the irony, to me, was like “It ain't too much for me!” I'm like “Yes it is.” It was too much for him. I couldn't help but notice the irony. “It ain't too much for me!” “Yes it is Michael! Sit the fuck down” Or better yet, dawg— Lay down….(mwahaha) Said, Conrad. “Let's take a nap, shall we?” Too soon? Okay, I get that his death was ruled a homicide: But here's my reverse conspiracy theory. I don't think he was murdered. I think he was ‘exited' No, not executed, “exited” Like, after all that, Michael was just like “ok , i'm getting off here. that's…that's enough.” Or like, we already knew he was immortal and wasn't gonna die anyway, of like, just natural causes. “Might as well make it a spectacle.” “This is it!” (lol that joke still works 15 years later, I guess. The movie is on youtube for free right now so, it's relevant. Its relevant.) {Enter The Multiverse} Every time I stick my hand in the middle of a papaya I wish I had a dick so I could warm it up and fuck it. Top Ten Best Fruits of All Time to be fair, I wrote the papaya joke before continuing my obsession with michael jackson in the monumental comic atrocity. Fair. You'd have to warm it up, though. He said, “Don't say shit” To this day it still don't make sense She didn't give a whisper, Slick tongue, six-nine Try dialogue but nothing she could try to find in time, And so, he counts from one to five and with the lies had come down to talk With the conclusion that after all, She couldn't do this And the story once to be told Now was none I dream in beforehand Secrets and premonitions Now you don't need me, I seek to bleed, sequence Ten seconds, initiated in the heartfire Words now? None I never thought of Before now, Now come. lol remember when Skrillex followed me to Brooklyn? Lol. Didn't I hide in a closet? I don't remember. Did I hide in the closet? What made me look that up? Curiosity killed the cat. Where the fuck is my cat, anyway? Atticus Catticus? The truth is, I think Skrillex might just be one cold hard murderer; I think Sonny hides behind his good looks and non subtle genius— I think I hide my eyes, cause I can't find them; The original pair went into the air, With The Rock And The Kite, And with all the despair in the world I like peaches and pears, After all, This is no random circumstances That you might have canned them, Then a penny for a power Just to recind how I did spend My last hour. Don't worry about that! I don't! Don't look and don't touch! I didn't! Don't gawk and don't talk back; I can't. I never quite abandoned anything so quite as badly As my own Cuban sandwhich Back in the cabbana, BRIAN CRANSTON Howdy partner! Goddammit, not right now! BRIAN CRANSTON If not now— WHEN? I don't know when!! Okay?! BRIAN CRANSTON No, not okay! I'm not okay! Well, why? What? BRIAN CRANSTON I'm not okay! BRIAN CRANSTON is not okay . AHHHHJJJJ!!!'nnnnnnnnnn!!!!!!'nnn Why is this map still open?! I don't know! The moderators won't close it. ANNE HATHAWAY harpoons a large subway rat. Guh! Fuck New York! I'm...
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    3 m
  • FR3∆KY FRÏD∆ŸS w/-Ū. - EP. 007 (LIVE)

    FR3∆KY FRÏD∆ŸS w/-Ū. - EP. 007 (LIVE)
    Aug 9 2025
    I was told specifically not to go to that grocery store anymore— but they had the rice noodles I liked. The thing was, actually, this time, they didn't— and so I knew my time was again coming to a close. I knew it would be the last time before I left, and regardless that I was going to leave anyway, but it felt like the last time— there were no rice noodles at all, and with my arms full of essentials, I figure listening to the voice in my head that told me not to do these things was probably for the best.'I can hear that.' But I was beginning to be rebellious in my actions and endeavors, because I simply wasn't making money, and this was making me not just sad, but actually very angry. {Enter The Multiverse} Professor Tannenbaum. Sir. Yikes. I'm sure I'm shown up at the Equinox Just for [someone] to torture me Cause for what? I'm dead broke, and not a [] blonde I'm on another trial Been tryin, but been a while It's too bad I'm too tired to run a mile I been Up all night It ain't right I hate New York I'm so sick of being broke But I still cannot find a job, I'm so certain that it's hell that I'm l surprised It's not on fire, But maybe all hell is for real l Is a cold heart world With no love in it Where you stop being inspired It's murder for hire with motorcycles And corrupt politicians So if I look a little older I'm smart to sue em So y'op wanna walk toward And cut me off Tryna get noticed by a God But I been only in New York So I'm humbled, mumble like i'm nobody But the no ones try to follow me I swallow all my humble cards I want to pick them up But just for once , I leave my garbage on the floor All these skanks Look like Hillary swank Come to thinking they slick tryna take the energy I make They all look like snakes Lazy But never cease to amaze me Walking up in the world I made Still tryna hate me. Thankfully, it's just a think tank to me and when the balance beam turns the tables on em I'm he back in my temple home; Now it's your turn to be homeless, Ya boneless serpent This is just a bonus l Cause I took a wrong turn But it was the right one Cause I got some rhymes done. Ya'll get off of my nuts Look, I got nine Trump cards Welcome to my dump, lards You're non recyclable! What can I say Besides, That I'm always correct Look at the thing that coughs she's gross and she don't have the touch The flight of love. The touch of god, The twist of the hand Or knowing from before But she benefits off of the blood The coughs The sign of the demons and dark ones It was already a done deal. I knew it was sort of a scam, or maybe even sometimes that rich white peoples had the worst demons of all— My fears had been confirmed the moment I walked in, someone coughing in that same disgusting way as I had been used to as soon as I approached the desk to activate my pass— but I knew as soon as I walked in that it was worth it; I would save everything that I had and sell my outdated DJ gear I wasn't using anyway, and I would take advantage of the offer to reinstate my membership; this would serve me so much more than my equipment was anyway. I wasn't getting along in the DJ world, and in fact after the cancellation of REQUISITE, the disrespect at [redacted] , and the techno Jew telling me my clothes and looks made me worthless in the industry, I considered he might have been right; I would be better off back where I started, at Equinox and broke but at least amongst the clean and quiet elite— this would raise my vibration and clear my headspace for something greater, eventually…even if it was just a job in luxury retail–going back to school or figuring out how to get behind the scene. My DJ days seemed to be over; I needed security and longevity, and I needed the opportunity to come back at the price with a one month advance desperately. Perhaps six weeks of training could jumpstart something better; I didn't know. But selling my equipment was worth it, because being a DJ was getting me nowhere but a quickly depleting supply of coconut water. Man wheezy for real And I don't even feel the pain Came a long way to Wayne I took the 2 train, Fell out of the truth Still trying to find 2 chainz But I went the wrong way I been up all day Somethings wrong, I should probably go to a hospital A long time ago I'm hoping that this tissue mass is cancer And it's fatal tho Fee like I'm inflatable Ain't no man is faithful yo I'll probably smoke a big ol bowl When I get back to heaven, man With a rebel yell, she cried: omg, a leg press. Feeling like, a little bit friendless Should probably get a wet wipe Should probably get some leg lifts in Should probably get the leg press in It's been a late one Should probably get some press ons Probably get my press kits done Should probably call it in But then again Don't got a home much longer Do I! Parallels, This shit is real I get it in for a second then ...
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    1 h y 15 m
  • Hiatus #3: Nails, Hair, Hips, Heels.

    Hiatus #3: Nails, Hair, Hips, Heels.
    Aug 9 2025

    We're running out of time .

    We're Always running out of times.

    Haven't eaten;

    Kesha—Birkin—

    Sorry, Conan,

    Haven't pondered

    (Fight!)

    There you are;

    Equinox mornings

    Getting lost

    (Fun)

    Doesn't shove

    Croissants down the throat

    As long as I'm on the island

    (What?)

    Long day;

    Never money

    Haven't got a

    (Cat!)

    Sanctuary

    (doves)

    Jimmy Fallon?

    Never found him

    (What?)

    Pools of blood,

    Nevermind that.

    I was so sick the night before,

    Even in my sleep that I thought to call out.

    But no,

    “I don't skip freaky friday.”

    I hadn't yet, and so my streak was valid, but I felt like shit, and despite my sponsorship I didn't feel I had any interest in DJing at all.

    The apertment was a mess, and though I'd spent the day before for hours cleaning in all the crevices the cat found that I hadn't, it still wasn't perfect— then, why would I try to make it perfect on the brink of eviction with the dread and depression that came with the noise?

    I wanted to fucking die, and the long hours not spent sorting through my hard drives were instead spent watching Saturday night live and funneling popped corn into my mouth, because indeed— I was actually, finally, chrnically depressed.

    It could be written off as some coincidence or extreme city noise, but I knew in my heart it was instead asassination, the apartment was a trap and I'd been set up to be weakened enough to eventually either kill myself, or back to homelessness to die.

    The least thing I was interested in was music, and apparently, though I'd had thousands of dollars somewhere in unclaimed royalties , I couldn't seem to find my EIN— the business tax ID I needed to file papers, because I didn't use it often enough; I didn't file taxes, because I wasn't making money.

    (At least, I'd thought I hadn't.)

    I couldn't even remember which subway stop was the correct one; and I knew with this I must have been coming to the end of my time in New York; everything seemed strange and faraway, as if I were in a dream.

    L E G E N D S: ICONS

    {Enter The Multiverse}

    He's heaven

    But i'm probably his headache

    What's a medical assessment to lemon merengue

    And I wish to that same heaven that we're all as sick

    As what's disturbed to be described by

    Highest our physicians can abide

    Just the though of him,

    The whispers of prolific;

    Just the sight,

    I get to writing thoughts

    As if the words were mine,

    But still,

    The caves of wells kept secret,

    Pure and water like the thoughts,

    Are just the parallels od subtle secrets

    Kept inside a box

    This could be mine,

    Dammit, a glimpse—

    Who are I?

    Caught in a wince with the glimpse of a notion

    And putting out fires—

    Who are I?

    You call?

    In the midsts of a morning,

    Worlds over,

    Neglected,

    No former recognition, but

    Who are you for?

    Not mine,

    But still a world of sure

    For art mines

    Copyright 2019 ©

    The Complex Collective ©

    [The Festival Project ™]

    All Rights Reserved

    -Ū.
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    1 h y 21 m
  • Hiatus #2: Enter Atticus Catticus.

    Hiatus #2: Enter Atticus Catticus.
    Aug 8 2025
    You came to the right guy; as it just so happens, I work at the foundry. What's 'the foundry' I think we're about to find out. But— don't you already know? Ag H—! You ‘work‘ there? Yes, I ‘work' there. The star gets his gun out at dawn to shoot crow The crown dropped to floor, just as sure as the gun went missing The same gun as in window; Same gun as before, Just remember, you're forward— Remember, you're four of them. Oh good, yeah. I forgot about —that one. And that one, And that one, And that one. And this gun, And this gun, And this gun— And this god, And this god, And this god. Yeah, I forgot The festival project ™ Yes, I forgot about Jon Lovits I forgot all the songs that I wanted to talk about Yes, I forgot just a sure as the sun forgot New York this morning But I was so sure of my self at the turn of the hour How now, you say? Not now, gone times; Just gone, New York, All about none for Sunday And I picked up a quarter (I picked up a quarter, I picked up a quarter, I picked up a quarter I'll be gone till Sunday, Till sundown, Move forward Fuck! Make sure not to turn down on a hardcore Make sure to come down off the hard times, Not god, but you're acting a good one Not now, but you're acting on our time (On our time!) DOC I never stretch! I don't feel it's appropriate! Gisselle doesnt talk much. Giselle is a proud mouse Were coming on hard times The harp was a purist And then, I got wisdom Again, with this, witness? I told you, don't come home I asked you: where's Skrillex?! Ooh. Watch this! No! Where's— what? You know what I'm talking about I'm pretty sure I do not! I— Oh. Oh no. No. This is good. {Enter The Multiverse} I told you already, I'll kill you! Okay, Bathsheba! “Bathsheba” Wtf. I told you, that's exactly what you're supposed to do. What! Read my contract! What. It's in my contract, read the clauses. Do what!? Lil bitz Does anybody here believe in the Illuminati? I do, but not in the way you would think . I think the main purpose of the Illuminati is just to mindfuck with you. That's it. That's all they do. Like , true, it's probably a like helm of ancient wisdom and knowledge, But also, probably— I think they practically exist, Just to blow your mind. There's no big secret. It's just, “Wtf.” And they're like “Ahaha” ”I know right?!” That's basically the whole thing. L E G E N D S I really liked you. Yeah, I… I know . I really wish I didn't have to kill you. Yeah, I—wait a second. Oh shit! Add more weight. I'm sure I only got this way by soully having sex with Just myself. This is causing problems. That's probably not going to help that whole holding in a fart issue, is it? Can I get some two-year continuity in this bitch? Some gratuity for no incontinence, Some incongruity rooting for you in this bitch? A table for two in this bitchz. {Enter The Multiverse} {Ah, we meet again.} A table for two is set center stage; The spotlight shines dead center the round table, and its centerpiece, a single throned rose, at peak bloom. The rest of the room is a blurred shambles, The two just offstage and unseen in the wings, preparing to duel. We only hear their quick witted exchange of words as the table sits alone, and briefly, ever so slightly, the teardrops of a chandelier begins to shine with the prismatic glow of a swirling… Hmm, wait a second . This is genius at play, But the thing is, It's not work when you love it, And I don't, It's just slipping through the prisms As I just begin to see them I'm sunsure whether the circumstances are. Aromantic or quite ardent And I forget I don't know what day it is Or the seconds counting, As I slip between dimensions And the parallels Are real I guess, But something stressed in this m-theory, Really, do they fear me Or are they all just here to hear me Recently, I see nothing Blind as a bat and I've been so depressed But the stressed is repressed as expressions, Ten seconds in and it only get deeper, I'm keeping her secrets. Guess what. WHAT IS IT CONAN? What a red headed hot mess Do not come closer! I will call the cops on you. Guess what? What! We s ted. Goddamn bro, you are sloshed. I have never seen you this wasted, Jimmy, and that's saying something. Like really saying something. [the festival project ™] You used me as a human shield! Did I—? Yes! Oh, yes I— I did. I forgot. You forgot?! It served its purpose! I guess, *shrugs* Well, jokes on you, because guess what! I'm Tina Fey! What? No you're not. [looks directly in the eye] Oh my god, you're Tina fey. Yes, I am! Okay! So who's Tina Fey then? That's the problem! We don't know! ...
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    1 h y 4 m
  • Hiatus #1: ASMR in Hiatus

    Hiatus #1: ASMR in Hiatus
    Aug 8 2025
    Eyes, eyes— who's got eyes?! Here, I have eyes. I don't want yours. What? Why not?! Eyes, eyes, buys and trades—! The day I met Atticus catticus, I by some strange coincidence also discovered “Toonces” …and however startling it was that they looked just alike, the cat himself had other strangenesses about him that I couldn't seem to shake. The other adjustments were yet to have taken place, but the cat did seem to be armed with a certain spirit, that did indeed show me immidiately things I might have otherwise missed. Still, it was true that this weirdness might have been misinterpreted, but however shallow my aspirations remained to the theatre world, or the world at large, it seems as though there was just stil some kind of strange connection with Saturday Night Live I couldn't shake. Almost like it followed me everywhere. BIG JIMMY runs SIN CENTRE at SIN CITY, an exclusive bar and restaurant in Las Vegas. You don't know about Sin Centre at Sin City?' No. It's the premier underground boutique for all of what happens in Vegas— or, what didn't, if you know what I'm saying. I'm sure I don't z I'm sure I don't either *winks* I need magnesium; Creep level fantastic, I wreak of havoc I wreck the fanflick Fanfiction? Now i'm fired, Give up! I'm a channel Back to the hard part Look at me! I'm getting Eleven miles an hour Isn't it strange how Just this morning In the kitchen I was thinking How I just love Sarah Silverman And how The chemistry with Kimmel is – Creep level: fantastic THen, If this is episodic, I'm not the only one who feels this way about it I might be a bad guy I like the darkness I might be the bad type, I like, Flirt with darkness Jp Did you write this?! I–i think i did. You think? I have forgetfulness syndrome! Why is everybody falling in love? But i”m alone Maybe I'm not supposed to have love So i'm alone But Too many talks to tell, I can't want, But i'm alone, And still Everybody wants to have love And i'm alone I have this weird theory that to be a female And get booked on Seth Meyers Not only should you be kind of almost probably famous But definitely under 120 pounds. Lil Bitz I'm telling you! he's Slytherin! Do you watch the show? Watch the show! Every female he interviews has anorexia! Not a joke! Watch the show. He has a copy of moby dick on his desk! What's that about!? Slytherin! Slytherin! So the question is: Can i fill five minutes with this? Puh This kid. Wondering about five minutes When she really needs an hour of material And a material witness This depression is actually the worst I've been Since I escaped prison. I should have went to Princeton. I should never run for president. Amen. I told you, republican! A bold move, and the light I'm on— Tonight, I'm fowl I get a grin Tonight, I prowl I'm off again. I haven't been this incandescent Since Information on Ronald Regan Came to surface This: his Indiscretions send my regrets to lettermen I haven't had it better since. Gavel gavel gavel! And I ramble ramble ramble on The mouse that lights to gamble Likes the Kat and tattoo addicts But the fans just can't acknowledge That we're on in the apocalypse I gotta get my marks up Or a proposition predicate Or advocates on terror Where's the war you ordered Not another table Kill the waitress Heal the sparrow Right the old case in a letter Harrow, harrow Case is waiting And I've yet to make it Everything I do just makes me Faint, Like I'm exasperated and exhausted All at the same time Call out my mantras— Look, I'm a loser Out in the open Promise Provoke my promocuity once more And I'll get you all fired. Fired! Fired! Fired! You look good in a tux Good suit and tie Good at the desk, boss, Ma? She's a Hard crier I got divorces, Widowers, Window surfaces on a horcrux Hard wires, And hard times on a jarred door Oh! Yeah. It's hard coming to terms with death When your afterlife is Jay Leno on a long highway In stuck traffic And you got to think “I know that guy” But no you don't, You're far from it and still Show hosts aren't for hire In the aqueduct construction, For I? Seth Meyers, young soul! Very hard, but good to know him. Kimmel had a tough crowd, But Fear, I've bartered hard to order. Fries with that? Oh noooooooo! He stopped dying his greys He's been writing for days And he's stuck in his ways: Cheerios are too sweet honey-nutted And honey nutted my rebuttal on live broadcast I finally got comcast, I finally went all broke Ahhh, we're gonna die. I guarantee you, this is that. Tuesday— midnight. What goes on. Didn't I tell you not to talk to me?! They know everything. Don't you know by now I can't be trusted? If I try to call We'll get disconnected And this interception Has been live broadcasted– So I ...
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    1 h y 1 m
  • Happy Accidents - Hiatus Mix

    Happy Accidents - Hiatus Mix
    Aug 1 2025
    Once Upon A Coconut Like Nesquik out da can I think it, then I can Need a guru, I'm the man In supply I got demand Need a sample mail it to you I arrive like out the blue dude Do you influence multitudes of groups? Unusual Every day all black Just like I pull up to da funural Respect; I keep it mutual Interests and got intellect, delicable like Ecuadorian bananas in DeLorean Or waffles with some syrup on it Sir up in my stirrups: wanted Not about the gossip But it's possible I'll ponder on it Somber I got calmer on em Sub I put a collar on I pull up in the suburbs in a suburban And get my mother on, For father's sake I put the cock in peacock On my color guard I call that comical Scouts honor I don't go to comicon Unless I gotta talk about the robot that I roll up on Or Show up on the show I wrote But no this ain't no 30 Rock My references out of date And my resources out of order But for the record I sort of shudder When forced to watch that law and order show I just don't SVU Omg I don't envy you, I'd rather NV just to EDC so you could see me On TV or In the booth That would be cool —da guru. JOEL ZIMMERMAN wakes up to find three dead mice all lined up in a row; he is uneasy (despite his expression for the most part, remarkably unchanged) —as this is the sure sign of a nemesis. It may even be SKRILLEX. Immidiately he moves through the kitchen and past at least four SUPERMODELS and into the room Where he keeps his mau5 heads— Each of them have been very specifically mutilated, besides one, kept—again—remarkably— intact. It seems to have been activated by a motion censor. It relays a musical message, then explodes. ☠️ ☠️ ☠️ …yes, this was definitely Skrillex. But then— Who really is Skrillex? who really is anybody? More philosophical questions. It seems time for a long ride with some hot girls— And, maybe— A call to the old “friend” {Enter The Multiverse} DILLON FRANCIS is awaiting a very important call. He should know something about this. The phone isn't ringing yet, but it will. DEADMAU5 crashes though the entire wall in an ARMORED SUPERCAR. …or that. — then the phone rings. …it's JOEL. {Enter The Multiverse} Don't worry, I hate you. Good, Jesus Christ. I'm fucking the God version of you in my half sleep More like, Dead on straight Lovemaking Of light proportions But no problem It is all just another portion of a program, Another fierce projection of obsession— So what? I have four of 'em. (I bore them, And they all ignore me.) I woke up this morning After napping in New York On a walkway between Two okay casinos in Vegas But don't know which ones Or what it's called Somewhere between the Encore And the Fashion Show I probably should get back, you know I got a court date coming up I'm on, New York It's really what you wanted Did I leave another Jim unattended from this show Oh, of course The Jim Crow Era! Now that's relevant And scary isn't isn't it? I'm sober But I told you, bro The show is over I gotta protect my sponsorship orders of Coconut water I work under informants For Nothing under the table I'm so under toxic sonic torture I've been disabled I re-upped on all the pancake But I'm out of maple syrup So here's seven for the sixes; I'm severing all connections, I'm severely out of order And I'm running out of water, Look, Call Mr. remarkable And tell him I'm in a mark up Had a hallmark card for Dillon's mother But gave it a second thought and Sent it as a thank you card for my aunt, —The original sponsor; And I should probably hawk or pawn the rock But that would be a whole total disaster, I fucking promise I T S A N A M Y T H Y S T So— Enjoy the mix; (It's a shit one) It'll be a distant and short hiatus, But either way, I gotta make Electricity and rent Without filling it with my purpose so, I gotta cut the show off I'm toppled over at the plaza Laugh at it if you will, But only if it's real I wrote my will and posted it I live and die inside this show I came to the city to live But it's just dying in New York If you go broke and only does your art support you — there's the notice; Couldn't leave you cold Just cause my heart is. [The Festival Project ™] The Complex Collective © {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S & Tales of a Superstar DJ Returns This Fall on All Platforms. thanks for listening. -Ū
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    55 m
  • [[ĪN HïATŪ5.]]

    [[ĪN HïATŪ5.]]
    Aug 1 2025

    Competition at the country club;

    I must admit I haven't had the habit yet

    Of psyching out the competition

    But I haven't even had it yet

    I'm simply always better and ahead

    (especially in blind audiences and unpaid promotion numbers)

    Taking out the competition

    Everything is tailored custom made

    and never miss an invitation

    Simple stocks and bonds

    You've got more toxic numbers

    Groms,

    And undercrossed fingers

    Simple stocks and bongs

    You don't belong here

    But you're locked in as a blonde here

    James bond bandit

    And Jennifer Anniston's antics

    (only water and cucumber,

    Never salt or carbs

    I'm hardly even made of carbon,

    You know

    Ha

    Ha

    Ha.)

    Mr. Always.

    Mr. Present.

    Mr. Precise.

    Mr. Heaven

    Mr. Rampage

    Mr. Me, right?

    Mr. Yeah Right

    Mr. Maybe

    Mr. Mistake

    Mr. Thank You

    Mr. Please Me

    Mr. You're late

    But where's Mr. Headache?

    But where's the Kardashian?

    But where's Mr. Be Straight and On Time

    And Unconscious?

    And where's Mr. These Days?

    And where's Mr. Keep a blade in your pocket?

    Cause you're one to one with the whole lot of

    Obstacles

    So there you are again

    Throw you off your horse?

    There must be a room for this

    Or a template.

    L E G E N D S

    That leaving you have in your feeling as a heart…

    Don't want to watch to go but want

    Want

    Want

    Lost the for you wonder don't know

    Younger water but I

    Want

    Want

    Want

    Dealing with my broken parts

    Underground and in the storage room

    I don't know what's left of earth

    But last I heard of her

    The world was broken

    I want the window the closed

    But it won't minimize

    Left the top open

    Might as well have been the door

    I used to lock them,

    But not anymore

    The whole world is stolen

    V.o.

    You know that magic trick where you're bending a spoon with your mind?

    BLŪ pulls a BAKING SHEET out of the OVEN with a melted plastic spoon on it.

    This isn't like that at all.

    HANZEL

    Yu Vere Bazically Vurking Wit Nazis.

    Shh! Don't Say that!

    HANZEL CONT'D

    (Shrugging dismissively)

    Vhat. Jew Vere.

    {Enter The Multiverse}

    I got six press kits

    Costs a fee to book a gig

    Come with me you could get ditched

    Come to Vegas, Could get Hitched

    (Real Love!)

    I don't wanna take your time up,

    Cause that be some of mine, hun

    N if you're tryna find fun,

    Should probably bring the wine

    Techno but need a nine? No

    Ten, I am a diamond

    Stevie, I'm a blind ya

    Wonder if that's a low blow

    But none of that's below me

    Know you know

    I ain't your homie

    I'm the only on who know me

    Not a worry, I believe you—

    You don't need me,
    I don't need you

    Now you See me:

    No you don't—
    Hope to see me

    {Enter The Multiverse}

    The Complex Collective ©

    [The Festival Project, Inc. ™ ]

    -Ū.
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    5 m
  • Lounge Set #2

    Lounge Set #2
    Aug 1 2025

    Hi, I'm Blū (DJ Ū or simply -Ū.) (pronounced “you”) and you can access my music catalogue on YouTube at https://www.YouTube.com/@thefestivalproject and my new website www.iamu.guru has a little more information about my project. I am also on Spotify, Amazon, and Apple Music and Tidal as well and you can find the links to those platforms on my linktr.ee/codenameblu

    {Enter The Multiverse}

    The Complex Collective ©

    [The Festival Project ™]

    -Ū.
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    1 h y 19 m