“An Impromptu Episode”

OWSLA CONFIDENTIAL, LTD.The infinite Skrillifiles: Next Generation— Quantum Force - A podcast by Skrillex

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True last Dillon Francis was bad. Like really bad. So bad, I still have to remix it. Let's hope this one is better. it is. Wait, what is this. —don't open that. Fucking great. What the fuck is this. Who knows, man. Oh look, a portal. Goddammit it, this whole dude is a mindfuck. (™ Wait, hold on a minute. Why, what happened. Every time I fuck around with these people I feel like I'm being fucked with. Well, they are DJs, so… *snifs* Hm. Wait. Yeah. Didn't this dude hop through the dream world just to tell me he had a girlfriend. He surely did. —-sounds like a trap. How dare you. Ah, shit— Did I ever write that scene where DEADMAU5 gives -Ū. (Or Happy Accidents, Whatever) a thumbs up instead of the middle finger she was hoping for. HOW DARE YOU. Well, if I didn't write it before, I wrote it now. ‍♀️ SUCKS TO BE YOU. Yeah, it does. I'm closing the portal. That's fine, I'm going to bed. Fuck everybody. Especially weak tiny dick people who ride motorcycles outside my building. Weak ass bitches. *niggas **roaches. I just realized like, White people's whole deal now is to do as much Passive aggressive shit to make black people's mental fragile To make people Pop So they have an excuse to keep Fucking with (you.) That your behavior— Your reaction to their sick, Twisted, vampire shit Gives them a reason To keep it in their minds That you are lower than them. That they are better. Their entire game Is finding ways to kill you Without even touching you. To make your kill yourself And call it “‘Mental illness” When really it's just a Series of psychological terror attacks In order to remain Dominant in a society Where they can Thrive in being Lazy, Arrogant Fucking energy vampires Yo, What the fuck is with white girls. Why are they so fucking EVIL? They're like, energy vampires They don't do anything for themselves At all And pretty much exist Stepping on other people And then calling that shit “Hard work” They are practically fucking USELESS. Like, If that is your staple— If that's your girl— If you're the guy that's like “I don't know what I would do without her” You fucking SUCK. Cause she fucking SUCKS And that's the basis of your fucking maneuverability and survival. You are LAME. Keep your weak dick Tryna fuck these Child-looking bitches “I can't live without her” Dirty house having World-stealing Slave-driving Ass Over there. Karma's coming for your ass. Your life doesn't get to be this fucking easy For this fucking long And everybody else just fucking *really* works And suffers around you. You are fucking LAME. “I don't know what I would do without her!” Probably nothing, What most white people do anyway. Fuck these energy vampire motherfuckers. They don't do shit They just use their blue fucking light-reflecting eyes To hypotize people Into making other people do shit for them They don't do shit They don't clean house They don't wash dishes They need to stop treating mental illness like a one fucking size fits all concept When Most colored people's mental health issues Come from fucking the trauma of the societal fucking race war And most white people's mental illness Comes from the inability to see that They've had it so much fucking easier Than everybody else For fucking nothing How the fuck do white people Have the nerve to be “depressed” With fucking everything. Interchangeability is dominance in this society. You can be ANYTHING You can have ANYTHING And you have the nerve to be “DEPRESSED” OVER WHAT? Fuck these toxic ass fucking Vampires But you tell them that shit about themselves And they'll just green light your fucking disposal “Racism is over” But you're forward and telling them that in your experience, That it obviously isn't— They'll just deny your entire existence And call it your fucking fault At the end of the day, really it is your fault— For giving them the satisfaction Of doing your little dance around them, Wearing your weave, Minding your manners— And letting them continue to get away with Taking your light Because they don't make their own. (They just exist on yours. ) His war tactics were comical, At best— A victor, champion And honorable warman That's it! Imm going to make a vegan neopolitan ice cream! You're going to make—ice creM. You're going to make—ice cream? On no, trrrs that guy from 39 rock again. Do you bastards work on Sundays now?! You know what they say: if you don't come to work Saturday, don't bother showing up on Sunday! You would think we'd get a day off in this bitch. Shut up. Oh, if it isn't the pampered prince of— Shh, shut up, he might hear you. YES. The toil of knowing That all of New York Lies most unseen, Cloaked to the working Hidden to the poor, Far above skylines And rooftops, And fear of them //us //it Artifact Hyperbole, given ranges of circumstances Heartwarming eathworms, Two day delay on a martyr attack Come, mother Move// Love closer strictly to your wings No bullets, And strangely, The pain has moved Out of my wrists and arteries Into my head again Mr. Valentine, strictly for the art force Never murmured or remembered Words so softly unheard of Why call us? I needed armor against the devils warcries— Telephones and dollars, motorcycles And motherless crossfires I told you, waiting Imm nearly out of my body And not willing to compensate For never tied you I To the bounds of boundaries l Brick exposed walls and Leather, not faux For the given lcuxies If unmistaken Bitterness —the tombs of it all. Unflourished. I'd better flag that one Are you looking for a new body to be housed by? Grief stricken and decaying in the original marksmanship Of beautified craft— Well, now Aren't we seasons greetings And good tithings Aren't I! Whatever he puts his mind to, He conquers— The question stands— What is it, He's out his mind to? Are you ever in your own body? Are you ever in your right mind? Which one's the right one? Fair. The coughing controllable Waits for the regimen Of daily values Set to offer her A grand scheme Of nothing at all An intolerable Forgiven grattitude of Imbalance, captivated at all By noting but A line between What was easy, becomes sacred In its later challenge, and being blind Becomes sighted, At will, After all suffering Has been marked, Dove Where to put the lips, Or the bullet, without them Whistle blows the the water, Reflective as her eyes And rotted core West, then— For futures sake, As to live without Is to die amongst hoards Or broods, no fit for greater lives Than the galaxies of unwashed stars; For metaphors, a gratitude forgotten You're not doing yourself any favors. Could I make it more clear how in love we are? The devil wants, So he speaks in water Through the tongs The warmth of the light shines Throug eyes and isle The wickndness would follow The women, To die for On his alter A sacrifice And so, The program resumes The judge is presiding The wedding's put off Or postponed Or not happening He played his 7 years best out of all of them! In at the first, in the end— As a marker Tears of a clown, Dressed in white, and blue faced Befriended the enemy of interest In sanctions! WARCRIES' (Warcries) Tidings —tidings Heroines, Warcries Warcries Warcries— How are you now, rabbit? I come as bouncing blondes, Seeking truth And refuge in your love As a sister, The bonds of warcries Disheveled us Awaken, Warcries— How now Warcries Tidings And Tiding Warcries Sacred Patron —sirens. Sirens! *fsce* Should we go? We should. Quick! (Nothing) Men! (At all) On your feet! [nobody moved at all, not a muscle] I don't know what I do it for. I need to know some things Abo it at least two people that are alive. How to go about that Without striking code Goes beyond my understanding In this diety She walks around with Salt in her pockets As a call to action Against robots With demon ties To fight wars On the devil's call A becoming cry For the weak And the wicked To come to karma DJM-S11 2-Channel Pro Mixer Jesus Christ! What is with this guy! JESUS CHRIST This cat keeps creeping around my doorstep… Following me, appearing in my window. Sometimes he meows at me to let him in; it's not that I don't want to. He is very cute. You should say, a very handsome cat. The thing is, I've nothing for him. I lead m a very busy life , all work and no play— And even when it is all fun, it's no games. He is a beyaitfuk cat— And oh, how I would like to keep him. But I've simply no room for a cat at all. I thought, perhaps— I might try to scare him away. All the girls on the red carpet like 00 and shit “Body positivity” Don't be fucking stupid. dudes like twigs and skeletons. Damn this same ugly motherfucker has a cold every time I see him. He's always fucking sick wtf is wrong with some people. His house must be dirty as shit This dude coughs every 4 ½ minutes. Last time I saw him was like a month ago, And he was doing the same thing. The fuck is wrong with him? He didn't bring water, an inhaler—nothing. He just coughs and snorts every fucking 3-4 minutes. Eventually that shit just started to make me laugh. I was like, “This dude for sure has the devil in him.” So every time he coughed, I would just start cracking the fuck up. It started to make me giggle. Then the more I giggled, the more gnarly his coughing got. He's like “aeugh-ACCJK—HUNHHHHHC” Then I knew it was the devil. I couldn't help but laugh, and I was like “Come on devil, come on up out that man.” He was like, Hacking at this point— Mind you, he's on the treadmill not running, but walking. Just — Hacking and shit “ACHKH—aahuuuhuh!” And I'm like “Come on now, Devil, leave that man alone” And then— he did! I was like “goddamn, that shit really must have been the devil.” His hacking turned into little reptilian snorts. —you know how they do. Hissing and shit. I was like. Damn. White people is otherworldly sometimes. Coughing and hacking and hissing and shit. I'm like, Your weird alien ancestors got all fucked up fuckin around fuckin dinosaurs and monkeys— This is the modern result of that. “AGHCK—CUHHH.” I'm like, You shouldn't be sick every time I see you if you're at the gym this much. I'm like, Everybody on the red carpet weighs 100 lbs Ain't nothing wrong with me. I got asthma, too but damn. Don't fucking “AQCCFFHHHBB” Every 3 minutes. That's the devil. Fix your life, devil!! I realized also, Hey, If I can ride this stationary bike for 95 minutes and counting I can ride a dick for an hour and a half Can your dick support that? If not, step the fuck back CC I got my karma for laughing at him though l— I was on kettlebells later and just when I was about to get to that last fuckin release at the bottom of my spine— Dude gets off the treadmill and walks across the room to get a Clorox wipe and I fall on my ass. That impressed me, though. Not that his energy caused me to fall on my ass, or anything— I had already been at the gym something like 2, 2 and a half hours— The first hour and a half was cardio— But I was impressed, with this one— You know why. He goes to get a Clorox wipe, thank god, after all that fucking coughing—he needed a whole ass exorcism and a Clorox wipe— the exorcism was a courtesy on God, but he got the Clorox wipe all in his own— and when he was finished with it, he threw it away! I'm like, “This one knows how to use a trash can!” Impressive. I ain't got shit to lose Fuck these weak ass niggas On the punching bags Just a bunch of fags Trackers attached to me And getting bags for it In my heart. I guess. I'm still a scam Planes falling out the sky I know who I am, though Word for word An eye for an eye See how easy it is To have a friend on the side ? See how easy it is to move on After beating your wife See how easy it is to get by and survive When everything y buy is based on Everything you write (And you write about the whites with blue eyes So they really don't like you) [The Festival Project ™ ] The Complex Collective © {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.

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