‘The Amulet.’

“White people suck!” This is a self-stated fact. White people are the only ones going around saying that shit. I mean, everyone else thinks it, it's true. Lots of people say it—just in other ways. Not exactly like that. “White people suck!” White people say this about themselves, as if they're not getting a little bit of fucking sociopathic joy out of it. I lived with a white a supremacist that may or may not have known he was a white supremacist. *may or may not have* He would say shit bordering on the brink of slight psychological torture. He'd say shit like “WE made OURSELVES the TOP RACE” Like, the fact that you're using words like ‘we' and ‘ourselves' indicate that YOU believe yourself to be a member of the so-said “top race” Not true. White people are not the top race. There are more retarded white people in the world than any other races. White people have been historically racist to the point that they fucked up their own gene pool imbreeding. Like: yes. They have held a majority of the money ans power on this planet for long enough that the entire world is programmed to think blue eyes are prettier— People with blue eyes have easier lives, period. Period. They get away with so much shit. This is a result of white dominance. It's true. But this guy. Lol. This guy would say things like “WE made ourselves the TOP RACE” And then further contradict himself by saying things like, “I don't believe in race” He was a narcissist. Yeah. Only thing worse than a narcissist? A white supremacy narcissist who doesn't know or understand he's either of those things. FUCK. I took him to my gym—but only because he let me stay in his spare bedroom for $11. Flex. More on that later. I personally think it's because he was a white supremacist trying to physiologically terrorize me by continually bringing up the effects of white power on my entire existence— BUT. He would say the most ignorant shit, that wasn't entirely ignorant—like he made decent and factual points, it was just ignorant that he was talking about it at all. To me. A homeless, black woman. It was like he was rubbing it in my face. For ten days he pretty much just came up with extremely inventive ways to approach me and be like “I'M WHITE AND YOURE BLACK AND MY LIFE IS AWESOME AND YOUR LIFE SUCKS BECAUSE I'M A WHITE MAN, AND YOU'RE A BLACK WOMAN!!!!l” I'm like, dude…shut up. “WHITE PEOPLE SUCK!” Okay. You're egging on a race war. I still don't hate white people. At this point I just see they're typically power tripping sadists. It's okay. Like everything he said or brought up apparently to try to make me feel better—actually made me feel WORSE to the point where I decided he was doing this on purpose. I'm like, This is the new white power movent: We make a majority of them homeless, lure them into our domiciles, and then remind them that hey don't have domiciles. Because of us. Pretend to feel sorry about it, mentally torture and disable them, and then send them back into the streets to squabble and kill each other! Perfect. But no, they are not the “top race” There are more retarded white people than anyone else— We even had one as President for 8 years! I'm just kidding. No, I'm not. I don't hate trump. He's just mentally disabled, being politically correct. I don't hate him! He's hilarious! When he's not directly effecting my existence— Hes funny. But: a perfect example of what the Caucasian's have done to themselves. And the fact that it doesn't matter, because when you have millions of dollars, you can be a literal retard, and rule the world! Wow! No, it's okay. I'm not racist. I went from his place—directly to a homeless shelter, where 99% of women there were black. I learned to love-hate everybody equally. Black people love to talk on the fuckin phone. So come lights out, everybody's on the fuckin phone, I'm like, SHUT THE FUCK UP. Everybody's on the phone. I'm like “Bro, if you actually have all these people to talk to, you should have somewhere to stay other than this dump.” I'm like, “I'm obviously here cause I'm a piece of shit and nobody loves me— You're on the phone from 11 PM till forever and you can't just go to their house and sleep there?! No! Then get off the phone cause that person ain't SHIT!” They ain't shit. But dudes are next level psycopaths. All of them. Staying at a women's shelter was eye opening. I would overhear conversations like, “BUT I LOVE YOUuuuuUu” Dudes be fucking chicks up in the head. All the way up. BITCH you're in a HOMELESS SHELTER. If he lets you sleep in this bitch even for 5 seconds he ain't SHIT. Get off the PHONE. Black people—or really—poor people, they love to talk on the phone. I don't know. I don't get it. I realized at a certain point i talked too much, and I was spending all my talking time talking to toxic people. So I stopped. Kind of. I talk to myself on my podcasts. Still can't decide if that's toxic or just what god wants so— I mean the downloads keep going up. Whatever. I should have a house. Dudes be having females out here homeless, worried about THEM. Woaaaahhhh. Anyway. But I realized: people love to talk on the phone. On the bus. At the gym. Wherever. Just “Talk talk talk/- Yap yap yap” about the dumbest shit. I realized how non bianary I am because females talk about the dumbest fucking shit. All dudes talk about is females so - I'm jaded at this point. Inequality is balls. This is how I learned the meaning of “no justice no peace” Like, the perpetual race war in this country has just created this division and unrest and it so fucking chaotic— But it's not just a race war. Dudes are fucking sick, intolerant. Greedy, destructive creatures. It's MAN WORLD so if you have a tiny dick or are an ugly female—you live at the bottom of the world. SUCKS TO SUUUUUUCK. “No justice, no peace” Colored people love to be loud—they've spent so much time being oppressed, it's apart of the culture to be like, “FUCK YOU, I'M HERE! WHAT YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT?!” I'm like, I get it. This is the definition of “disturbing the peace” After a week of this ridiculousness, I'm like, hey, maybe they're not racist: they just want you to be quiet. Lol that's not funny. They're like, “Ugh, this guy's breaking the law, he's disturbing the peace” The other cops like, “Just shoot him; if we arrest him he won't shut up” Lol that's terrible. Whatever. Colored people have been so neglected and oppressed now they kill each other. Whatever. There's no color to that shit. It's just men. Men are killers. But of course—I'm torn. I love babies—the only way you're gonna get one of them is to love a man—and once he impregnates you he can do whatever else to you he wants. He owns you after that. And you're just—tied to him. Destructive. Honestly, though—the difference between a good man and a bad man, or even a good woman and a bad woman—is a good mother. You have to have that. So I fucked up. I'm a whole trash can. But now I love/hate everybody equally. Everybody's fucked up. I hate myself the most. What! I'm homeless! That makes me a piece of shit! I'm shitty. And I get it. It's cultural oppression. This culture has been bred on slavery and neglect and oppression and so now you have to act out and be loud and ridiculous and rowdy. Okay. I get it. I do. But at this point, I'm like “This is the apocalypse, I'm ready for the world to end.” I don't give a fuck about whose black whose white what's right what's wrong, I'm like, “Nobody pays enough money for me to be miserable for 8-16 hours a day, I don't have a place to sleep or a friend in the world, just end it already, God, “ “Just fucking blow it all up. “ I'm ready for a nuclear fuckin war. “Drop that nuke directly on my face.” I want to be ground zero. Fuck this whole place. Fuck this existence. I'm over it. I don't care about anything. My basic needs aren't being met and I'm over it. I don't even have a fucking HOME. You need a home just to have a BODY. The only shit you do In your house is because you have to take care of your BODY for it to work. You have to shower. You have to eat. You have to sleep, These are not recommendations!! These are requirements, Once I realized that a great enough evil existed in the world to allow this to happen— I got over it. I'm like “fuck this race war” Where's the real one?! Drop some bombs in this bitch. Humans are fucked up. Black. White. Everybody in between. Everybody's fucked up, yo. Greed fucked up humanity. All of it. —but I spent some time in this women's shelter and I sterted to realize: maybe it's just because it's a man's world. Half these femakes are in here talking about being hung up on niggas— NIGGAS. And they're in a homeless shelter. I had been celibate for quite some time at this point; but it seemed like every goddess I met in this place was broken—and that brokenness came from the sacrifice of loving men, and having children. Men are fucked up! Needy, greedy, selfish motherfuckers. I'm not saying there aren't any good ones— There are. They're just married. I respect marriage so much. I respect marriage so much— to the point where, I ended mine, when I realized “This is not how marriage is supposed to be.” It's fucked up. The good ones are taken, usually. And the sad thing is, Sometimes people stay in toxic relationships long enough that they become toxic. That happened to me. I stayed with the wrong person just long enough to realize, like, “Great, now I'm shitty, too—you motherfucker” FUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKER. I would rather slit my wrists up and down than ever go back to my ex. Yep. I've committed suicide 27 times since I left my marriage. You know what the first successful suicide attempt was, though? My fucking marriage. UGH. FUCK THESE NIGGAS. They'll have you fucked up. They'll have you homeless. They don't care! They have dicks! They can just fuck you up—then walk away, and fuck somebody else up. And the thing is: there's always some dumb, useless 18 year old somewhere that's gonna think he's GOD. She's useless—except in ONE WAY. To him. Then when he's done with her? Yep. Trash pile. Fuck these dudes. So I'm in this women's shelter, where of course, as if I need more of a reminder that most men ain't shit *most, not all. Done offend men. They'll kill you. They'll worse than kill you. They'll knock you up; ruin your body; cheat on you—they'll fuck you up— Then kill you. So I'm in this shelter, and after the first night, they're like “okay, you have to have a physical, then a psyche assessment, then you'll get a permanent housing assignment” I'm like “okay” So I get my appointment, and I look at it, and the appointment for the psychiatric evaluation is like 10 days away— I'm like, “Wait a minute: So you're going to make me wait 10 days in a dirty, chaotic, gross fucking nasty place—10 sleepless nights surrounded by hood rats and garbage all over the place and shitty toilets, where it's freezing fucking cold and even the cops and the staff are fighting all the time—THEN you're going to give me a psyche evaluation?” “Yeah” Fuck the system. I'm just jaded. I love/hate everything and everyone the same. You know why? Cause it's the same fucking emotion. They're not opposites. They're just opposite ends of the same spectrum of the same exact emotion. Passion. Passionate fury Passionate love Passionate rage. All really the same thing. The opposite of love isn't hate. The opposite of love is fear. Weekend on a Tuesday R3HQB & Laidback Luke Love, much like death Is just an illusion another contusion, confusion I'm a loose fuse confusious Lucius, Lucifer loosens Two tooth's, apathetic: I'm so pathetic, No sympathy for the devil No empathy for the dead SUPACREE//Chak Chel is grocery shopping at stop n shop Why stop n shop CAUSE THERES NO WHOLE FOODS IN THE HOOD. Racist ass motherfuckers. Supacree. No, Dude. No. Okay! Chak Chel! Mm. -_- I need to talk to you. Please. Step away. Wait! M—no. [she moves to the left—he moves to the left—she moves the right right—he moves the the right.] *sighs* [she removes a stone from her pouch, and throws it on the ground: it opens up into a black hole like vortex.] Where does that go. I don't know. *she gestures, waving her hand in front of the hole* Uhh— She stares into his eyes and steps into the portal, which swallows her into a void. Oh, my God! He stares off into the distance worriedly— Seconds later, just outside the storefront, a portal opens—supacree/CC is set gently at the bus stop; DILLON FRANCIS, still inside the store, stares at her out the window, flabbergasted as she boards the bus, staring back at him through the window. The bus drives away. Why Dillon Francis Idk I died and went to hell and back and back to hell again An irrelevant disheveled devil drinking a rebbl in the back of the bus Full of disgust, looking busted and fucked up I'm stuck in a nightmare, I can't wake up Where's Shia laboeoff? It's wild and rough Inspired enough By being in lust Pretending it's love But it's nothing Jimmy Fallon FLASHBACK : season 4 ANANDAR has an interesting medallion. one time I fucked this dude cause he looked just like Skrillex; like that wasn't somehow gonna be a disaster. I mean, my life was already 100% crap—I thought: Couldn't really be much worse. Might as well fuck this dude: Not like I could ever get the real thing. Turns out I was wrong twice. FLASHBACK: season 6 SKRILLEX is obsessed with SUPACREE. Huh. Oh wow, yeah. Yeah. So what does Dillon Francis want out of this? Figure it out! Uhhh!! What about deadmau5? JOEL ZIMMERMAN I want nothing to do with this DEADMAU5 …are you sure. JOEL Yes. KASKADE enters swiftly. JOEL Ugh, this dude DEADMAU5 WHAT UP, HOMIE. KASKADE WHAT IS UP. JOEL Ugh. RYAN GARY RADDON enters, nonchalantly. RYAN …am I late? JOEL You made it! RYAN Well, I promised. DEADMAU5 You are late. KASKADE Ugh, this dude. RYAN Nobody likes you. DEADMAU5 Say that to my face. RYAN Where is it. KASKADE Ooh. Burn. JOEL Oh-Kay. Let's go. Lol. Where are these dudes going. I guess we'll see. PASQUALE. Ahem. PASQUALE— Yes? What are you doing? Working on something. Working on what. Something. PASQUALE WHAT. GET IN HERE. Fine, I don't have eyes— I super sauna Flora-Fauna Outer space And out of stardust Superstardom Flawed, But by design, Align with all of ‘em Fine, I really don't find you Kind of attractive Damn, I'm damaged Do you mind Or do you plan on dying anytime Fine I can't be white, But can be tiny, That way, finally, When I'm someone's wife; I'm the right weight and height for them to like me Enough that they might— I mean just might Not cheat. Horrible. All I want is your attention— A ten A ten-tension I wnant your attention A ten A ten-tension Locker number 87 was taken and though it hadn't immediately bothered me in the same way that it had a few days before, the unsettling feeling in the moments following at least prompted me to write something down. It did bother me to think of him with anyone else—and even sensing it or seeing it had set me off in a way I could neither explain nor describe, first sending me into a whirlwind which culminated in meeting Anandar, and secondly tailspinning me into a fit of fury —and while I still loved Sonny, there was something I felt for Dillon I couldn't entirely explain, and while the world was suddenly full of beautiful people—beautiful white people, to be exacta, I realized I didn't want nor was I truly fit for any of them anyway, not that something like that mattered in my time of desperate need and desperation, unable to accumulate the focus or energy I needed to move up and out from this trench I was in, whatever it meant besides falling prey to the grueling captapilism on which the country I was raised to love was built, without it benefitting me in any way besides aesthetic. GODDAMMIT, DILLON FRANCISz WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO— Yeah, that's right— I'm gonna throw up. Don't throw up in my house. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! THIS IS MY HOUSE— YOU DONT HAVE A HOUSE, BITCH— Aw, shit, it's on. KAAAAAHHHHMEEEEE— Is this dragon ball Z? No, it's FUCK YOU, YOU RUINED EVERYTHING If I hear Renaissance one more time, I might just— I might just You're right It's white power, it's alt right, I can't fight it It's alright It's just another night In the heights In the no flight list I'm on hiatus, I'm high, thanks plankton I'm pinapple, might just wine Or whinehouse, If I had my own house, despite this Whatever This records all hype, Supply and Demand I'm a Diamond For your demon Indegenous genetics yet I'm homeless, on stolen land I'm hopeless, once again I stole this l, I am Sam I'm alone in this— Here's your quest for fire, ya dumbass, It's bombastic, I'm so past it Just wanna throw a bomb at it; Used to cetalogue albums Bow I'm analog, all bad, I'm so mad I wanna take it all back Like all that This is Allllllll, that this is— Is she coming back? Maybe. MAYBE?! Look, just give me my 10 bands, bro. 10 bands?! ‘Ukrainian Ballerina Finds Solace In Dancing.' Oh man, they hate us Why God, do they hate us Light skinned ballerinas— Life is what you make it Raise up from this hatred Make my grave With raising canes and gravy Make the best of what you gave me Questions in my mind arising Or are rasing I'm erasing pain but gazing at the TV thinking God, Why do they hate us Why do they hate us? USA Why do they hate us Why Why why Why do they hate us A master hypnotist; Why waste a wish on this— The fog, or mist obscured my vision Interest in THIS DOESNT MAKE ANY SENSE. Now, wake up. OH MY GOD. What do you want? I want to wake up from this nightmare, I want to be white, with blue eyes and long blonde hair I want to go to Long Island on the ferry, I want to be there, But clearly, I'm here, and I'm sorry But I'm growing wary That God's even aware of me I hate this. Oh shit. What, man. I just realized— we're all gonna get really old. Maybe… —or we're gonna die. Yeah, that's why I said “maybe” That's fucking terrifying. Dude, you're like 40–how are you just coming to grips with your mortality? …I don't know. *hits bong worriedly* I'M GONNA BE ALONE FOREVER. I'M GONNA BE ALONE FOREVER!!! Damn, Drake Bell; I didn't really think this would carry over into the 7th season, but—I gotta hand it to you; You stay fucking up. Dammit. What. I fucked up. You just stay fucking up And I stay fucking up And I say I'm over it, But I'm a stray puppy; A squirrel that's in search of a nut And you are what you eat So I guess I'm a butt Or bananas I'be had it I almost miss my hammock I take that back I ________ Manhattan Hey, you gotta stay stateside. What. For what. NEWS: WORLD WAR III Ah, fucking shit. So, what am I supposed to do for mon— MILITARY: Get over here— No. Look, it's SkrillexZ. No. How about— No. Believe it or not, I want what you want, m I love what you love, and then some; Gone for a walk in the park, With my heart in my pocket, I hope she shows up soon I hope that she's all that you've always wanted Since I'm not, And when I'm gone My songs remind you of what Love was, The love that I had, And the love that I loved just to love And the love that I wrote in the songs that You offered I hope she shows up And she's all that you wanted; I want what you want, And I love what you love, I promise l I hope she shows up soon She's all that you wanted; I wanted to love you, But want what you want, hun I promise; I'm just coming off a long one I love you for the long haul, And then some // I keep on forgetting That I'm not that pretty to, Or around you So I'll just— Do what I do, And move into the room Where my room meets you, In the vacuum of time and— Collisions, and splinters Unseasonable winters and Missed kindergarten graduations, I'm assuming at least I can't move, Or can't focus, Can't write many words, Or recite all my poems There's just not enough time left That I have Imm mindless I might have to find A flight To the homeland, and I don't want to fight, in this war I was drafted; I wrote that before, Now I'm captain Disasterous… Has it begun yet? It hasn't been fun yet, Just tragic I haven't forggtten the traffic I still have the hat. I just might not be black But I'm back on the blacklist , I guess Sending signals, distress Matching sigmas, And sigils, Invested in candle light vigils Twisted like pretzels; The rest of the West is in shambles And I'm steady rambling, Scrambling What's the preamble, pastor? Last again firstly, And first again last; How's that feel? How's dinner after a hot meal, 2 days of cornmeal, I'm horny, But still won't eat honey All out of money l l Submitting to your said supremacy This, I'll remember— It's cinders and embers and ashes l The fire you search for Went out in the rain that I called for The dance that I managed to salvage From out of the past, Like the misters and masters I asked for the land that I am back And we're all just grains of sand And we're all just grains of sand And we're all just grains of sand I should want for nothing, But I find you at the forefront, Sniffing cocaine Yelling my name In the most profane way Ah, down the alley, she goes But— WHY ARE WE RUNNING YOU DID THIS, TIMMY, DON'T ASK ME STUPID QUESTIONS WHY DO YOU KEEP CALLING ME TIMMY CAUSE YOU'RE TIMMY, SHUTTHEFUCKUP! I'm losing control, now I can't get out of it Or into it I'm on a roll now; The role of my life, It turns out, Was just my life Now I'm lifeless inside “Yeah right” *sigh* “Like anybody loves me” *crying* “Like anybody likes me” Yeah, that's right Just lay down and die; Lay down in the street like a dog, “If you like” Attack on my psyche The love of my life was just like me He might be Are we even? What do you believe in? A seething scar on my iris. Dine in and drive ins. I'm meant to die now, that was my life, it seems; It's over for me, The American dream turned nightmare; I haven't seen this stream, I should lie here, I haven't been myself in a while, I'm liable to set the whole ass world on fire— Like I'm on a fire escape, Trying to tape my mistake At the brokenshaker; Makes sense in LA, But it's just another day here How's the weather? It's awful That's what I heard at the office tomorrow, I'll probably drown in my sorrows, A crown on and borrowed objects In my honor, No, dont't stop here This is bat country Now some Sunni blū shit Or SUPACREE, whoever she is: Nonexistent. Here's a spaghetti and shit sandwhich, Dillon Francis, I believe in magic, I swear, I just can't stand it I hate this planet; Might be nice if I could manage to— goddamnit. Captain. Where's she at? Off the map… There is no “off the map” Off the grid. Well, there's that. THE LEGEND OF SUPACREE We've been collecting data about this woman for a number of years. It's a woman? CUT TO: SUNNÏ BLŪ is not a woman. *gross stupid rapper shit* Very much so. Senator, a word. How many words? At least three. Why is it always three? MEANWHILE *in a deep meditative state VIA DILLON FRANCIS* *no, it's Hanzel* Shutthefuckup. Listen. This is a lot. Breathe. [stops breathing] I've got burning questions. That's just syphilis. I— It only stings a little; It only burns a lot— You were my love, I thought Lost, lost, at once But here you are, And not often have I wanted To imagine you a star Another catharsis Another conundrum The world is at war, And the source that we come from, Abolished, So long lost and gone from our thoughts Now, Think fondly of lust, As she fondled the heart that she clutches From dawn until dusk, After sunset, Once buried but polished, recovered And thought of more often, Than spawned in the rust of the under and all of the marvelous— What was it? What? “The Jimmy Fallon Conspiracy” That is a good band name! What was the other one? “Bad with Matches” I like that. There was one more… Uh… {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.