Every time I take him in
I must remember
the best thing
That have ever happened to him
As he said
And whether or not the band
Wraps around the bent and broken digit
I just simply remember that,
I'm just infatuated as a friend
I mark it like a mantra
Just as adequately as the director
Calls to action
All the actors at the set;
With no resentments
We're all just doing our jobs
All just doing our jobs
We're all just doing our…
Lessons.
Come back.
Not quite.
It's not
(Uh)
There
(Where you want it)
Hold on.
(Yeah)
Sit tight
(Where)
I don't want to spoil any of it
Boil all the letters
Burning all the bridges
Sitting at the forest
(Where)
There's the alter
(Where)
Really you didn't recognize
The moment when it happened
But it's been pinpointed
(Where)
—but where is it?
Cut to commercial
But don't let it hurt you
All of a sudden. My eyes aren't his,
This isn't witchcraft
It's just a glitch
Did you miss an interview?
Or is it that you're just disinterested
Or disintegrated
Integration, integers and interference
Running backs and runners,
Gymnasts, models, other lovers
Alcoholics
Now it's not so daunting, comic
I'm also sort of off and autistic
Obsessive with narrow vision
But glimpses of the ever bending present
Is indeed a gift
To know I left the letter
Letting it get soaking wet
Before they ever even read it
Know the news,
Wave the wand,
Wind the whales,
Dig the hole
Burn the bridge,
Burn the ace
Throw the cards,
Get the day over with and won't you know
There's
Something wrong
I think it's simple to tell
The wind will whistle when It's good to win again
There are
Ten men to a collar
Ten phones to a number
One call to a voicemail
And all of them know her
Now, take it all back before the bathwater stagnates
Would you make it in this day and age?
No,
I'm glad that you hate me.
4,000 years later and all of a sudden
The pact is clear and concise
As if
As it
As if
Turn it on its head a bit
And light another candle
Get the glitch out of your
Obsession with the asshole
And wrap you head around it
Found a sweater
Pick it up and pray that it just
Isn't bewitched,
But sickness is sickness
Whatever it is
This is comfort food
A comfort blanket
If I hate myself enough
Then all it does
Is put the elf back on the shelf
The trophy back inside the case
My eyes go back inside my head
And everything I ever thought
Just stopped
And disappears into the heavens
Wherever it goes
Before the gore
Around and and around and around and around
4,000 years, and now we're here:
The mirrors
Man and Mr.
And it might be another million years
Until I see to hear
But this and that,
The dance of dances
Comes again
And ebbs and flows
It's not as random
As it is sporadic
And it's not that deep
But it's also keeping secrets
That precede this realm
Or Space and time
Or name or face
And body, souls and mind.
It could be another million years,
But it comes around,
It comes around
It could be getting wider,
But it's steady going down and out
It comes around when it comes around
27, were it ended
Now it's umpteen years into the after life
And we're shadows now
Just projections of such,
But it wasn't once
More than just a thought,
Becomes a story
All the world was just the thought
And then a song,
The dance that came along
Is simply steady moving
Is simple steady moving.
All of the world,
Was just a thought.
Watch with one eye open only
First the right
And then the left
Covered over with one closed palm
So you know how old you go
One foot forward
And no coals to walk over
Rolling rolling,
Your role is
One off,
Now too off
Now too late
But what you process
Is your whole world over
The goal for the gold?
Oh, no,
Warm Sundays
Try to warn her
While her heart is open
To fucking close it
Keep your friends close
And your Fallons closer.
There's no trust in the golden auras
There's no honor in golden globes
If you don't work for them
Know doors open and close
And open and close
And you don't blow smoke,
But you just keep moving forward
[The Festival Project ™ ]
Just the idea if him will kill you
Whether with guilt or otherwise,
And now you know
And now you know
You're on no sugar till the goal
You got your cake and ate it, too
Oh, the way he cries in the confines of my mind
The blood would curdle
The tears that seared my soul disk through the wall with every color
If his was a shoulder to cry on,
If God was a cover for longing
Yo. Where the fuck did Patrick come from?
He just showed up.
I don't think he owns me so much
As I want to know
I don't think I'm lonely
As much as it's I'm alone
What are you looking at
Well, I don't know yet
What are you asking?
I can't.
There's a mask there
What I want to know is,
What is this pain?
What is this pain in him?
What is this pain in this?
What kind of psychic sense
That lives in my back;
I just hope that's the last of it
What a weird kid.
Core Concept: "Enter The Multiverse" (ETM) is a living, evolving meta-narrative that documents the ontological fluidity of reality itself. It functions as a grand experiment, proposing that all perceived realities – fictional, historical, and contemporary – exist as vibrational frequencies within an infinite cosmic tapestry. ETM doesn't just feature alternate worlds; it explores the mechanics of their existence, their interconnectedness, and the profound implications for consciousness. It blends high-concept quantum physics with ancient spiritual metaphysics. It includes creatures such as shapeshifters (like Gerald and potentially Jimmy Fallon), fairies, and monsters.
Integration of Real-Life Figures: ETM famously integrates real-life celebrities (from A-list icons like Oprah Winfrey, Beyoncé, Janet Jackson, Madonna, Billie Eilish, Finneas, Eddie Murphy, Christopher Walken, Johnny Depp, Charlie Sheen, Katt Williams, and Whoopi Goldberg, to late-night hosts and media personalities like Tina Fey and Jimmy Fallon). ETM posits that these individuals, often without their conscious awareness, are either key nodal points in the multiversal fabric, accidental conduits for interdimensional energies, or even unwitting "Lightworkers" whose public personas are part of a larger cosmic script.
You son of a bitch.
Can you do that?!
Can you do that?
I can do— anything I want—
Really?
Except that.
Oh?! And why's this?!
Because I don't want to.
But if you could, you would.
I can— I just—
Oh really.
I'm sure there are reasons— besides the obvious
—I'm sure—
Moral ones.
Almost Sam was a safe bet
Almost mark John was a good lad
Almost once was the Ireland's best,
And I guess with the beat of the drum,
I ponder
Ponder to the beat of the
Pity my pocket, much
Pity the fool, if you're. It put b perfect;
Get in the picture,
Just to cut you out of it
If I close my eyes one time,
Even just for a little while
Take me right off and away
Take me right off and away
And I bet with the task, you can't have handled it
I bet to run better you'd forget your purpose
I guess I'm a purist- pure problems, the pussy car l
Put it to sleep,
Or just— in a waste basket
I'm so confused, ya'll,
I got on the train.
Of course.
And nothing was at all interesting until this nigga got on
With a samurai sword
And a Trader Joe's clutch
Pick a side!
You can't get on the
What the fuck am I looking at
You tel me
I don't know.
You see that.
I wish I didn't.
Take it all in.
I—
Okay.
This is gross
What is the state of New York today? L
Infected.
Corrupt.
Disingenuous.
What is the state of New York today
No identity
No indegenous
Murder me
Leave me to drown
In the tides of the ocean
Just let me sink
That's the only way to
Bury me,
With this murderous, traitorous
Listen, if you will
To a story ne'er told,
But often sung
And often rang like moons as bells
Often thought, but never spoken
Often brought up,
But never put down
Come around, will you
I'll tell you a tale of a glorious story
The take of all time, and as you listen,
These words and this whispers will mend with your spirit,
Then cease to exist with it
Listen
Celebrating resonances
Has no effect.
Yet
I haven't even messaged any
I haven't even lets a message yet
I've just been celebrating resonances
I haven't noticed any difference her.
Only reflections on the way you get affexted
How to get the guy at the bar— aunt you just lean on the bar
Maybe you just sit at the bar
Maybe you just be at the bar;
How to get the guy at the bar
Maybe you just stare at the bare
Sit right there at the bare
Maybe have a care at the bar
Don't share at the bar
Several small disaster.
Why the fuck
Am I alive
I might as just well die
I should have never made Pasquale Rotella one of my role models.
—then again. This is before I really knew who he was, or what he was about— and at the end of the day, the truth of the matter is, nobody can ever really know who he really was, or what he was really about.
Semitus, Semitus
Relax the semitones
Verdis Quo varitus
You still aren't coming through!
Varuq de Adonai
Semitus, Semitus
Verdis Quo, Veritus
You still aren't coming through
Cover up
Cover up
You still aren't coming through!
Tau Kappa Epslilon
You still aren't coming through
Kappa Kappa epsilon,
You still aren't coming through
Kappa Delta Epsilon,
you still aren't coming through
MR. REDUNDANT, RAINBOW KITTEN SUPRISE–
But IN AN UNASSUMING IRISH BAR in DRUNKEN HARMONY surrounding a piano played by what appears to be…
An exceptionally tall leprechaun?
I wouldn't know. I wasn't.
[invited]
Enchilada muffins
Ah nah, I'm in Manhattan.
I almost forgot what that was like.
What a head change.
More like a change of heart.
What's this, a song?
More like, I just don't know yet
One day this will all be gone
For now this is just a poem.
How to wear Santa yellow: don't
That took avoid anount of forever.
That took a long punch of time
That took a good bit of forever
And now you're mine,
You're mine, you're mine
That took a good bit of forever,
And now I'm on your mind
That took a long bit of forever
But now, I'm not counting time
And now you're mine
Now you're mine
Now you're mine
Now you're kine
Jack in the box
You really like to think you're smart, don't you?
You really like to get your way?
I can't
Blame you
But baby,
I can't tame you
LEAN WIT IT, ROCK WIT IT–BUT VIKING PIRATES.
lol dumb
“Nobody's really going to take that ad in the same way I am, are they?”
I had reached a breaking point. I was going to let the world make me go mad because being good wasn't working and being bad seemed like my only option. Should I get a vape? Grab a drink? Fuck a friend?
The truth was, none of the above would suffice, but in truth I felt the hate and rapid fire of judgement in cruelty in that whatever voice inside my head posing as Jimmy Fallon always seemed to be right.
I had been replaced.
People will try to feed you.
Dont you see
Because
People will try to defeat you
And they will fail
Back to the wall
Because after all
It was you who needed me.
After all,
Over all,
It was not a cacauphony,
It was an apostrophe.
How preposterous.
Don't you see the weight of it,
With what you made of it all,
It was fly over fall
And you chose the first.
Wasn't it something of a hallmark moment
That you went for the donut,
And still came out
With a basket of apples?
Indeed, a crisis,
In fact,
You're there again
In fact
Beware of her
It's obvious
That it's not her fault
It's just not the right time
It's just not the right te, it's just not the right time
When all they need if your compliance
And all the my want is your attention
And don't you see, it's just applied physics
I'll take
Literally
Whatever I can get
But you already knew that
I needed you to need to know
You know you knew
But you already blue that
And i'n already blue balled,
So send me a bluebell
It's nothing new, hell
But it's crucial that I
Screw you
We all go to work in a toolbox
My dear did
What on earth are you doing in The fourth dimension?!
I thought things were kind of strange…
We interrupt this orogramme to bring you a live broadcast of a current alien invasion—breaking news—
If you jump
I might just jump
Don't jump
If you jump
I might jump
Same here
If you jump I might jump
I'll jump
Don't jump
Same here
I might just jump
311-231-25900
311-231-26867
JIMMY FALLON pours himself a tall glass of WHATEVER— this is clearly one of those hype celebrity-curated brands of liquor meant to be hip and chic— a luxurious black-label bottle of fine liquor which literally, in bold white lettering, simply says WHATEVER; next to it on the oak wood table is another bottle of WHATEVER— a clear liquor, however with a white label and black lettering. This is clearly someone's brand, although— in the confines of a murky and dimly lit office, oppulent as it is— this is no plug, and there are no cameras, no audience.
JIMMY FALLON knows he is about to be murdered, and as the dark liquid— perhaps a rum of some sort— glides over the barreled rocks in his glass, he calmly lets out a subtle sigh of exasperation.
These are surely his last moments.
{Enter The Multiverse}
[The Festival Project™ ]
{Enter The Multiverse}
L E G E N D S:
ICONS
Tales of A Superstar DJ
The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū
Ascension
Deathwish
-Ū.
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-Ū.