ragdoll.

These terrorists are mad desperate; A demon is a demon— But a weak, feeble-minded brainwashed terrorist is another thing: just that. [domestic terrorism and acts of sociopolitical psychological tactical practices by and against American citizens.] The only satisfaction in knowing how right I was, became choosing not to directly address them anymore as they were— ignorant, insolent babies throwing temper tantrums— It seemed altogether in the same system were the motorcyclists and the door slammers, as if some sort of strategy against free thought and the right to truth. The actual truth of the matter was, that I was also in them—whether or not they had the conscience to know. Be mad; I am. Maybe now in coming times you will understand How cruel it feels to be hated, For just existing. Fragility Something ‘about' me bothers you so deeply— And you ‘don't know' what; But I'll tell you what it is… Later. For now, I'll just enjoy soaking in your rage — How wrong you feel I am For being right. And how right I am— That this is wrong. {Enter The Multiverse} “Billie's Bong” The poor Billie Ellish has a neon bong. Woah! You have a bong! Yeah. That's sick. Do you not—smoke? No. Wait. Do you not—like, sing? Nah, yeah— I'm in like, a band, but— But what about your vocals? We play punk! Nice. [A CHARACTER walks in, and is astounded to see the two practically identical Billies.] Who though? Doesn't matter. I don't get it. Which one is which? They both shrug. The poor Billie Ellish and the regular Billie Ellish have almost everything in common besides money— being that, “broke Billie” comes from a stereotypically dysfunctional family, and a broken home, and has lived a majority of her life in poverty—besides of course—Finneas at least having once served as the lead guitarist of her band, before dropping off. Wait, what did happen to your Finneas? Ah, My Finneas? Forget about it. That dude is a skag. My breath is shallow, My heart is lonely. The poster shadow Of many moons forshadoed. Again, I lie awake, screaming, Not calling I'm screening your calls You want ice cream with that, Or what. (Or what) Probably or what, though In a nutshell, I don't want you I thought your hollow bones Could swallow us whole To another, Long, long gone Summer. Sure, the show goes on —but it won't without you. For sure, The show goes on— But it won't without you Turn the phone on, Turn it over At the airport, Watching Conan Oh yeah, A honey blonde, Shucks. Honeysuckle wants only To become Sweet, ripe salmon berry (Don't you want to) At the airport, Watching conan Overhead, I Overheard a phone call “What the fuck did you just say?” It's been 3 days; She went missing at MIA No connection to jfk No connection at all Munroe, you blind bastard All the water All the drugs All in the wash It's water under the toenails (Four fingers up, But the fourth one lost it) At the airport Watching Conan I over heard you Turn the phone off Semi-sync or something, Semi dysfunction Chemists hemispheres All his fears are In my head I stand at the front at the edge of the the platform so there's just less temptation to jump (White Nikes is for chumps) Everybody is a goddamn DJ these days Especially on her bday When she asks for a replay of that remix Bitch please I sit alone bc with my phone and my notebook. By the end of a river A cold brook Wrote a whole mother novel A classy story For the world gone wrong You fucking Morin Fungi up I get more fond l I stand in the train with my back against the wall So the shadow markers won't stand behind And grab me Fuck man, fuck off There's a lot of blue here Must be something to do here I need new gear Stuck inside of my l life Since new years Whose here? WHAT THE FUCK MORGIE? SUNNI! MORE HEINIKEN!!!! You CANNOT. Drink with that ankle monitor on. I know. So why are you drinking?! I took the ankle monitor off. Nogga yo feet is small. Like smaller than mine. EY. I been staring at your gut this whole train ride. How the fuck are you like a 5X And your feet are a ladies size 6? The fuck. You need some help, bro. I ain't been to the gym in two days But you got fairy feet My nigga. My hip bones apes against the railing; I've three children, but you'd not know It; I'm holding in cereal, cleaning out stuff for cereal boxes , Audio level Aux chords polished Shined as silver, Hair as Golden, Still no meadows, My eyes rest in My, I'm tired. Please don't mind me, Bright blue jumper Still no meadow I lay down in Still no meadow Hair as golden Old blue boxers Boxes Please don't mind me Oh, you started it Oh, you started it No motion sensors Already alcoholic, Still halls And still water Oh, You started it Oh. You started it Sure, don't fall out of Heroin antics, Sure, don't fall forward, Only to fall out Oh. You started it Damn! Why the devil always gotta stand behind a motherfucker, huh? Fuckin creepo. Haven't you decided yet that you are the devil. I am one and all And all things, I am Still in my mind I am, Never behind, But always ahead Always right, and not wit wars I stand in line for the stairs The slower the better the more I write I'm on fast God Fasting time I'm on fully automatic The faster we go The harder the heroin The longer we stop for The harder we party Off bandwagon There I go— (Are I now) There you are? Fully automotive Fully automatic Fully on the wrong road. It metr's hoping No more tears for lost stardom No more neon signs No halter tops Shit, I work harder in hell When I don't have my phone off Shit, I work harder in hell When I take all my clothes off. I couldn't even pretend to give two fucks right now I'm chained to a train With another one headed right towards me. I don't mind what's the line your on Whose line is it anyway, good line at the equinox Step over me Hoarder I'll say, Here for all time; Wherefor art though Simple and stuck In my own ways All day I sat in haides No semtember Sick morons Long, long October Still started No water Two dogs And a blonde No show starter. But There goes all that All the next understudies And sure profiles, Fair weather friends again —creepy ass inanimate muppets. Fuck, man. Somebody stick their fuckin hand up Elm/ ass before I punch him. Don't punch Elmo. Who doesn't love Elmo. I do not, What did you say your name was? I didn't. What did you say is your expertise? Rhythms. Mister mister l NOOOOOOOO. Some black dude rubbed his whole dick against my wrist on the subway train. gnarly. It was warm. And weird— Like a fucking Sleeping cat Under Egyptian cotton AGHHHHHHJ. AOh no. I THOUGHT MY HAND WENT PARALYZED. It just siezed up, real crunchy, like— *chicken foot arm* I automatically had like the whole thing going on. The worst part was that it was warm— And soft// But HUGE. I was like What ANIMAL is that. I will never. I could NEVER I said. what. I just got to the point in my life where I realized I wasn't interested in anything. !but especially I'm looking for Sage to burn I goy money go burn I got time to earn mi got money to chase Ain't got money to waste You've got to admit x It's a good savings system —for once, the sauce sounded like symphonies And wreaked of green peppers, or rather, was fragrant CHECKPOINT! I remember this part! I remember this place This time This dance This song, Then— everyone does And everything does, doesn't it? Show ants the advocate The advocate of another time I think I ran here on What if everything cheaper online But it's just the adventure you wished for Have you ever tried to be mad With squeaky ass shoes on Seriously Have you ever tied to like walk away Or stop away mad With squeaky ass shoes? Is that the pub? I guess. You guess! Is this the right pub or is it not? I don't know which pub is the right pub! He just said “Irish pub” you could throw a rock and hit one! Sometimes it's best, To just not give A single fuck at all At all at all A single fuck at all. I don't give a flipping song! Woah now i don't give a flap or a stick! Alright, alright. Leave me alone to die I'll melt inside the world A coin upon a string Run, girl, run Of course, of course It lives again It'll come again When the Sunnis down. I can't wait till the sundown I can't wait till the world is kind And the girls are gone And the birds all hush And the dogs don't bark And the sun downt come Till I'm long long gone and out of it I'm over her, no more war and art over sodom And stardom as startuduat Like I said, you started it I always did I didn't want I only done To suffer Suffer more Will you rot you blossom corpse The art is done The art is done! The water's hot No wonder white people fucking hate us. I saw a black dude on the train. Today with his dick in his pocket. NO, GOD. WHY! And he was holding it, too. I'm like “What for?!” Jesus Christ's. It was in his pocket. Outlined and everything, With his fucking grip around it Like it was a fucking animal. No! No! Man some people are so fuckin wrong I hate pda. I fuckin hate it. The Real versions come across a parallel reality's version of themselves—who by some chance, also happened to cross paths with each other—however—this band of miscreants are HOOLIGANS—unruly lawbreakers who cause chaos, confusion, and trouble to the good people of Where the fuck is this. —wherever they are. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.