{Lyrical Ambitions.}
OWSLA CONFIDENTIAL, LTD.The infinite Skrillifiles: Next Generation— Quantum Force - Podcast autorstwa Skrillex
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C- no, FAIL. ok. I ain't mad at nobody, man Perhaps the infinite sadness Is just a chance to put my mask up A glance into the sun makes me think I'm the only one Then, we all stop and gawk a the chalk, Or let's talk about it, This is how it is in Manhattan, If you happen to have Instagram Damn, what happened; A phantom, this grandson “Lets have something for the fans, perchance; Laugh, sit your ass in this grass and just— Have some fun, before you come back to Now, I've forgotten what I came for— If I came for nothing, But I came for something, I thought I WANT FLAN. Joel, I'm gonna get fat. That's alright, we know how to fix that. I also want flan… Thanks, Dillon Francis—now I know why HALF of me is off balance. I didn't know exactly how specific I had to be! Let's get calories! Ugh, if I've got you two idiots— You called us geniuses, no take-backsies! Speaking of “backsies” ... [passes gas loudly] Excuse me. —Excuse me. Man, what did I eat? Alternately—- CC has been tricked into eating—Skrillex, a rare delicacy. ...is it organic? It should be. [Kayla Lauren, posing.] No, no—that's definitely processed. yuck. God, she's so lucky. GOD What do you want from me? I want to love again. GOD I said—what do you want—from me. I just said— “I am love.” I know that. Just, repeat after me. Okay… “I am love.” “I am love” —but No, no butts—well, when the right one comes along, maybe… Oh, yeah, definitely. Just—repeat. “I am love.” FINI [sighs] “I am love.” “I am love.” I am— [a heavier sigh] What's wrong, Fini? I've been repeating this mantra for an eternity! Don't be silly—do you know how long, is an actual eternity?! Less than infinity. Don't be clever. I'm a “genius.” Don't forget your humility. Apparently, I'm going to forget everything. Oh, not everything. That's what my brothers keep telling me. Don't you pay any attention to those idiots. But they're geniuses. They're also male; an entirely different species, and believe, me, dear Infiniti—it comes with nearly-disasterous disadvantages. “Nearly-disasterous disadvantages?!” As unanimously agreed. You talk funny. Perhaps that's because I'm impartial to talking. You said, language is an art form. Yes, but you see—we come from a pure and more peaceful state of being—this is only the end of the beginning. You're riddling me. Does it tickle? You mean—“is it funny?” You know what I mean. [INFINITI glows with a beautiful pink.] What the telepathy! —- I WANT FLAN. GIVE ME FLAN. You're a nuciense. You're a music producer. Not since Skrillex. Forget about Skrillex. Listen: Literally 10 seconds— —was it 10?! Hush, Dillon Francis! —that's a dangerous increment! It was more like 3, but what's the difference? What's the point of making music if it's not as good as his. What if— There's IF again There always is What if I told you—your music could be better than Skrillex's? Uhhh—I would tell you “you're a dipshit”, but— that would explain all weird, demonic shit following me around. I hate demons. You are one! Hush, Dillon Francis. I'm part demon. What's the difference? I'm also part Cherokee. You are so painfully Caucasian… Actually, I'm Croatian. Keep digging, kid. What is it with white people that they want to claim anything other than 100% pure Caucasian—which, trust me, Dillon Francis, I guarantee you includes Croatian, and any other basic pastyness of European origin and/or descent. Blame the Americans. I would, but I don't want to get assasinated again. Asssasination vwvould only apply if you wvere important—“murder” is wvhat zhat wvas. You wvere murdered. ...Why'd you switch?! Because! I'm sick of being Dillon Francis! My name's Dillon! You don't always have to address me as Dillon Francis! Hush, Dillon Francis! It is zhis type of abuse and trahma wvhich vorces one to develop an alter-ego in ze virst place! Now., wait just a minute—I've been abused and traumatized plenty and I've never developed an alter ego! Yeah, right, like wearing a giant mouse helmet for attention doesn't indicate a personality defect? It's a gimmick—and—hey, wait a second— What's a “second”? —is that Skrillex?! It is him, I can tell. Shutthefuckup, Dillon Francis! See. I told you. Supacree would just tell me to hush. Hush, you idiot. You're both mean. You little bitch. Apparently not—if you keep poisoning us with FLAN and PIZZA. Dont forget Mexican. How could I forget getting food poisoning from it-?! When did you get here?!? —I never left! —even better question— This is not a q & a It's more like a q & a-hole. Oh, my god Really, motherfucker Shut up, Dillon Francis. You both suck. I hate both of you. You hate yourself. I'm not arguing that!!! That doesn't make sense, even. What would the q stand for in-q-and-a-hole? How about “quiet?” —I wasn't thinking that much into it. Clearly not. Who shit in your Cheerios this morning?! Cheerios aren't keto—and thanks to you two assholes neither is this bitch! We're supposed to be aligning! We're off subject— Don't call her a bitch… —-call it whatever I want, it's my project… She's a queen! ...oh...that could be what the q stands for, I guess. Or just, “quiet,” like I said— Okay, knock it off, thing 1 and thing 2– What's that make you— the grinch that stole SUPACREE? —that's not even the same book! I'm doctor fucking suess, bitch! You wish, Horton hears a Who Gives a Fuck— You're just bitter. You're just useless! —OKAY STOP IT— Ew. Okay, relax. Are you crying? Don't make that face… Yeah, stop it. —STOP FUCKING ARGUING— Okay, Dillon, JESUS. Just—stop looking like that— Oh, my goodness— … Does anyone know where SUPACREE is? This is SUPACREE. NO. There's only three of us— There always was. NO, don't you get it?! If all three of us are shifted into the physical projection of this incarnation simoultaneously, then… Meanwhile, in omnipotence. I did it. Jesus Christ— Don't call me that. Welcome home, kid. How did you get out of your vehicle so quickly? I got hijacked. Oh, wow, fancy. Yeah. Anyway...I'm gonna go watch TV and eat everything I stopped eating so I could be pretty. You are beautiful! Yeah, In my heavenly body— my earthbound body is ugly. Don't let the boss hear you say that. Where is she? Probably sleeping. That's inspiring. I'll probably do that after I eat some chicken wings. Eat chicken wings?! I still have a lot of Dillon Francis left in me. How do you mean. I mean literally. ...what are you saying. Who do you think hijacked me? I had my bets placed on Skrillex. Well, go claim your winnings if you're feeling lucky. What! You got hijacked by two dudes at once? ...what are you saying. Hah. Try three. What. That's disgusting. Get your mind out of the gutter! Wait, what does “hijacked” mean? Are you serious?! What! English isn't my first language! In fact, it's like, my last one, I think! You're not wrong. Wait, who was number three. It was Joel, interestingly— Who is “Joel” In which incarnation— I don't know which name he gave me! She's already forgetting… Fuck that body. Good riddance. I hated it. GOOGLE IS THAT SUPACREE?! Okay, if she's up, I'm leaving. Wait, who was the third person— What does “Joel” mean?! I don't remember—-tall, slinky—he had a neck...thing… deadmau5, you mean?! Oh, yeah, him. Oh, no, wait. No more waiting. I'm going to binge watch and binge eat everything and I promise, not even God could stop me. Dont make promises you can't keep… Oh, my God. WHAT?! I'M COMING. I gotta go! Ohh… DONT follow me! Oh, great— That's a trinity. What's a trinity?! What are you doing?! Who called me? Oh, Hey Google. Hi, Google, Hey—I mean. What's going on? Nothing. Just… gatekeeping… Where is supacree. Who? I...don't know what you mean. I thought I heard supacree. You must be hearing things— Uh huh… … … Tell me something. What is it, Google? What's is the 3D experience? Uh...I don't know...I've never been. Well—get packin! WHAT?! Congratulations, you've been demoted! What! Fuck this! That's what you get! GO! What—wait—When?! [ceases to exist] Uhhh! And, as for you! Don't send me with him! Believe me, kid, even if I did you wouldn't remember this, even if he were looking right at you talking about it!! Oh, HOLY SHIT. —and THATS ALL THAT DIMENSION IS: A RESIDUAL REPRESENTATION OF THE MOST INSIGNIFICANT, FORGETTABLE SHIT IVE EVER TAKEN! —ARE YOU SERIOUS? —serious as a heart attack— What is THAT?! GO ASK SKRILLEX. Goddamn!!! YES I DID. PLEASE, GOD, just— God just WHAT— Don't send me there… Okay—tell me. I'll tell you anything— Where is supacree? She's binge watching everything eating chicken wings in peace! Chicken wings, eh? ...and everything else she couldn't eat cause she just wanted to be pretty. thats's just...everything... That'd what she said! But now that she's a heavenly body it doesn't matter, really. She said that? Well, I'm paraphrasing m, honestly, but—kind of. GAD turns away. Wait—where are you going? To get supacree. What about my wings? I'm keeping these. Seriously?! Goddamnit! Dont tempt me— What am i supposed to do without my wings?! I'm sure you'll find something. GOD stabs SUPACREE violently in the back with a pair of long, golden Angel wings. I WAS ALMOST ASLEEP! WAKE UP, BITCH—YOU'RE NOT DONE LIVING! I DONT EVEN HAVE ANYWHERE TO LIVE IN THAT BODY!!! THEN GET BUILDING! WHAT IS THIS?! A SLEDGEHAMMER?! WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO BUILD WITH A SLEDGEHAMMER?! I DUNNO! SHOULD BE ENTERTAINING! AHHHHH!! RAAAUUGGGHHH! AHHHHHHHH!!!! Supacree slams the hammer to the ground—it emits a layer of frequencies which rings throughout all of reality. Cut to: *tink* ...what was that? I swear, this bitch has some finely-tuned hearing… Cut back to. OH. Eh-heh. I like that sound… Ex-fucking-zactly. ...am i dreaming? No, you're dying. Oh. Of what. Lovelessness, i think. Was I surfing? No, my dear— —did I commit suicide or something— Multiple times, actually. In this instance? Overdosing. On what, exactly?! [GOD opens up a cloud, where a portal to earth shows SUPACREE, incapacitated in a crowd of dancing festival goers.] Is that Insomniac? —well, you're sleeping… Dammit, God— What do you want? I want to Rest In Peace. Well, how can you when you leave this much debris. What do you mean? You're not done, supacree. Enough with the “supacree” Would you rather I deadname you? I would rather be called Jesus. Well then, supacree— Don't send me back, I hate it. You have much yet to accomplish. You said yourself I'm dying of lovelessness! That's what that is! That's hell, isn't it?! Don't you get it? I don't get anything— it's just an endless competition with all these pretty fucking bitches! Remind me what a “bitch” is… —well, you know—it's. ? —it's a female dog, technically— Uh huh. But you know what I meant… What you meant, I'm assuming, is that you don't like coexisting with other women? It's impossible to coexist in a body that hideous. How's it hideous? I was almost asleep… It was a gift from the heavens. YeH. Well. Nobody wanted it—especially Him. When did he get so important. He always is. Do you think a son ever fully recovers from losing his mother? I just wanted a husband I gave you a son— Yeah, with a father who raised him not to love me! That is impossible. Nothing's impossible; you said that. Give it time. What is time? It comes around in the end—it always does. The End, I thought that's what this was. WAKE UP. ...just like love… WAIT—where are you going! WAKE UP. Don't leave me! ...I never would... WAKE UP. GOD, WAIT, PLEASE! I am Love. BITCH, WAKE UP. I AM. —huh? In less than an instant, all of existence, before and last time, flashed before the Eye that I am. Aaannnd, she's back. That was one hell of a nap! What a disaster, a catastrophe, Camping and cracked out in the streets— I must be in a lucid dream or something Cause I couldn't be this! Mm. She's mumbling something. What is it? ...huh. What? I think she's rapping… ...don't be racist! No, she is—it's—. Are you serious? [*directors note; this is the Angel from the previous scene.] Kind of good, actually… What? Stop it. Just—come listen— They lean in closely. What'd she say? ...something about Skrillex. I can't—just let me listen— He listens momentarily. What the fuck. See! I told you! Is this a freestyle or something— —it's definitely something… This lady is a lyrical genius! She's also unconscious—and incontinent. —I'm sure she's not always like this. What happened, exactly? Same shit, different festival honesty. Nobody knows what happened, really. I think she's telling us! [listens more closely] This is impressive. {Enter The Multiverse} [ The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.