[exxxperiences.]

After re-initiating my equinox membership, I was more than eager to return to mh training schedule , or at least try the best I could do—my morning had been filled with music at a mostly-empty Kream, left alone with myself to sing as I pleased, and release the music I had been sitting on for years and months at the very least, not that I expected much of it—but at least it was out there. I scurried back to the Freehand, toes l frozen as always, even in my boots and 3 pairs of socks layered strategically. After Apple Music had indudated me with the original mix of HUMBLE, I was tempted to say in the very least to listen willfully to Skrillex—however, in the heat of the moment, I changed my mind, deciding, even without the shield and comfort of Airplane Mode, to listen to Drake Bell. ‘This nigga's singing in Spanish. Lol' I giggled to myself, waiting for the Dash B—it had been seemingly forever since I had been to the Downtown Equinox, and though I hadn't been as enigmatically excited as I had the previous morning for Donut Friend, I was still ecstatic—and now, over the overwhelming strange and exotic rush of feelings that had home with my Hollywood entanglement just weeks earlier, I had a new friend in music. [TIMMY TURNER puffs on an extra Long cigarette out the side of his mouth. ] Yeah, fuck Dillon Francis. Jeez, Timmy, that sounds personal… Nothin's personal—it's just business. Hey, yeah—what is your “business” anyway? None of your business. I mean, I feel like it is— You know, for a piñata, you sure talk a lot. I'm not just a piñata, man. Could've fooled me. Someone had left a gift for me—and for sometime now I had been certain that my impending fame had all been a dillusional hope, now I was certain there was someone following me—or even more certainly, several steps ahead; I found directly in my path, precisely—a shiny penny, a healthy heap of cocaine, and a green piece of paper, accompanied with a folded DT news with a phone number scribbled out onto it—a phone number I wasn't sure I should call or text (and probably wouldn't). “Oh, it's cocaine!” I exclaimed, laughing, shaking it off and bouncing jovially to whatever song was playing—and whatever it meant, assuring myself that it meant absolutely nothing—I was just happy to be headed to Equinox, even as fat as I had gotten in my time away. ‘Goddammit, I'm lonelier than I thought.' Equinox was full of bodies—perfect ones, to be precise, as it always was—and here I was, just me, myself—convinced that this was where I needed to be to succeed in fitness. It had been easy coming—or at least, as easy as it was ever going to be— but hard to stay, thoughts of my immidiate needs dancing in my head with my medeocrity. I was hungry and had just finished a hefty fast, but now was running out of money for food—and though I had entirely let go of ever being able to afford my own apartment, thus using my measley savings, which would have taken months to grow into what was needed to move into an apartment on my own, on re-initiating mu Equinox membership; ‘At least”, I thought “I'll be more LA.” Less food, more water, and the will to work much less than even I thought I was worth, somehow sufficing the energy to take in the harsh and sometimes unreasonable circumstances that Downtown LA had to offer. I had given up, for the most part, being a DJ, succeeding in music, and trying at all for anything in the realm of arts and entertainment, but especially music, releasing all the music I could at once, as I had already paid for the distribution—and anything else creatively was coming to a complete standstill, writers block perhaps approaching quickly. It had been long since I had been loved, held, or even thought of in the way any woman would wish—and as it turns out, I was more of a woman than I myself had thought, and probably anyone else. https://open.spotify.com/album/4flix5NKGhxDwqpClFhVPD?si=i4YjWh5MSHmYavi7ovKCsA {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.