Me, Myself, and I.

By: Sunnï Blu Stone
Listen for free

  • Summary

  • After an enormous writing catharsis and extreme strike of inspiration which has lasted for five years, following an eight year writer's block an artist finds herself drowning in the massive amount of largely incomplete and unpublished works she has created; hundreds of thousands of documents, worlds within worlds, catalogues of music, and series of novels--as her inner worlds and outer worlds begin to mesh and collide into a self-fulfilling prophecy of instant manifestation, the worlds and characters of her fictional works taking on lives of their own in the real world.

    {Enter The Multiverse}



    [The Festival Project.™]



    COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

    Copyright 2024 by Sunnï Blu Stone
    Show more Show less
activate_Holiday_promo_in_buybox_DT_T2
Episodes
  • Xochil. // No Chill.

    Xochil. // No Chill.
    Sep 29 2024
    They're gripping at straws to make me look and feel crazy which can only mean— He's losing his power. Hopefully he's expecting another baby. Hopefully, for the ba's sake and its mother, it's not a little girl. Even my big and strong boy might be irreversibly damaged at the hands of a psychotic narcissist with anger problems—and though surely he had tried to kill me any way he could, I had survived. Now, the tables had indeed turned in my favor. With enough time, the truth would be revealed not only to those above, but to all who knew us; I hadn't lost my mind at all, only finally found a pair of eyes that could see the world around me that they did not like—and a pair of legs to run away from it. The first time my ex husband actually hit me— he had snapped, and though there had been other counts of shoving,heavy handed close calls and other questionable events in the years leading up to this, it had never been what it turned out to be his fist actually connecting with my face— not just once, but several times over and over until something got in the way— even years later, I didn't know what, but maybe just that I had stopped moving, or struggling to get away. “Play dead.” Maybe he thought I was dead—or maybe I was. Everything since in the nearly eight years after seemed an inescapable and hellish nightmare—inescapable, that is, from him. Or, from “it.” The thing that had tried to kill me That even after assuming an entirely new identity and seperate life, this dirty, lazy, disgusting and altogether unllpleasant energy seemed to follow me everywhere—and worse—this energy seemed to crawl into the other humans surrounding me, and like a parasite, never letting go. I wanted to die as much as anything just to never be reminded of him again. My thriving and success would make him look like a fool— more of one, anyhow, and either way— his jealousy of my life without him made it obvious how little and weak he actually was, though not on purpose, and, in some ways—many small ones, I had succeeded. Suddenly, everything became battlegrounds—fighting for my life as if somehow I were still in my abusers presence and grips—the devil in him seeking me out in the world as if I had deserved it in the first place. No one really deserves to die like that/- Especially not in front of their children. Now at least I knew he had no power alone, but that what one would The Devil itself often lived inside of the weak—weak in spirit, weak minded. Feeble and malleable, often fat and lazy people, it had become obvious— that people were the tools for this force to deplete the light and kindness, the good spirit and soul's purpose of others. I had forgiven him, but something indeed had rotted away the core I thought once shared into a blackened depth if awful waste—the things about him belonging to a world I wished never to see or be part of. I had grown, and changed—and I was sure with time so had he; perhaps not, but I couldn't know and wouldn't want to, wishing only for the best for anyone's sake. But this thing that seemed to follow me was a pitiful, screaming l and evil thing—I had let go with the consistent reminders of the permanent scars left in the crevices of my lip, and on my face—and though an entire child and perhaps several women between us, his need vengeance that I had left must have been mad, as the sweltering parasitic welt that riled up with enough fierceness to crawl into other sunken bodies, and surround my every waking moment. Not his power, at all, but a greater force of evil—the evil of all mankind—Satan himself seemed to have chosen me as his prey, my abuser as the illusion of conception. There for I, There for I, There for I, None! As truth did shatter mine ever being, And also Ever person near WHO VALIDATED THAT BITCH'S PARKING. —you think she drove here?! —if she did it would be on a broomstick. Goddammit. Get her out of here! Out! I said! You're…not a fan of Fallon's, are you. No, I'm not. (No—God, no.) Well, why not? First of all, he winks at people. ;) *cringe* Like, off camera. JIMMY O'FALLON And I want damages. Damages?! Damages. He's seeking damages?! To what. JIMMY O'FALLON Like, my entire—everything. Damages to everything. My entire life! Ah. [The Festival Project ™] I've got to admit, being sued hy Jimmy Fallon is probably the most exciting thing that's ever happened in the entirety of this series! What about that thing with Skrillex. (That was pretty exiting.) Which thing with Skrillex? All the things with Skrillex were pretty exciting. (Admittedly, yes.) Then there was Dillon Francis. I hate Dillon Francis. Exactly. Why! Because he excited you. Next question! Ahead. Yo. I finally get to link up with Supacree. You're a mess. Everything is a mess. The world is a mess. ...
    Show more Show less
    1 hr and 58 mins
  • {No Chance}

    {No Chance}
    Sep 29 2024
    We're going somewhere else. What does that mean? Somewhere else! You know why I hate you, Fallon? Fuck. I gotta find Fallon. Places [The Festival Project ™] I should know why… —because you are good at everything you do. I always was. What can I say? Nothing. Shut up. That's your job. I don't have a job. Oh, that's right. That's right. [Fallon seems slightly intimidated, but nevertheless, cocky—bold and arrogant as always—and of course— —smug. ] {Enter The Multiverse} The older the wiser— The bigger the better The taller the whiter The richer the further you are From the life that you want Typically, typically Oh, there you go again For Richer for poorer Old Haunts with old souls it's, No wonder you dissaolved on the Revolving door When it's all the same concious thought That you walked all of your dogs To the mall in The same four thoughts The same It must be getting dark The souls are seeming more Forgotton Spirits wandering Here are you now Here I Nigga drinking money No one ever noticed We must be one in the same, Since I ain't g/have /give a damn God, thank you God. I told you, I love New York. Who doesn't? The poor… —Broken. On God, On train All four On one On God 4 train 6 stops Cause I got Money Power cut off I just came back from Whole Foods market I hate shopping Fact Artifacts Don't ever stop recording Even when you want to I might look broke But I got money. I'm worth it Dot dot dot doe Don't keep me waiting I'm wanting to hear from you Wading, wading. I'm fading away I'm fading away I am fading away, l— I am fading away I see a whole ass love story. Super synthesis you ought to draw that Sitting right across the devil Sitting right across the four corridors of summer sworn nonsense I wrote two novels four summers I took two photos, on vortex I took two sworn oaths, far side Master, mortar Brick and— I love New York now, But order, My far mind Gone in the antelope Wind and the demon ways On, but you severed this tie I loved him But could not Quite trust Blue eyes, God I love him. Two minds now, One goes the course, One goes the other route Same and semi, Sometimes never Someday never comes, When you can't stop crying On God, I lost you Ten minutes to count Ten minutes of fame, And again it all adds up The stopwatch loops around again as if Nothing ever mattered to keep track of I found you here, The way it went I left you there And then, infinite I caught a glimpse as if Something had shined across my back There, master, Same slave I always reckoned I never Coming from others, Therin just a wince Just a tip for a chance Of harsh breaths I recon still No-ordinary-love.co How much is that gonna hurt Like a lot l'm assuming Same as always Same as always ‘ Same as always Are you ever on time, or just— Kind of by it? Are you biased or just a front for more wartime? Warcrimes. Let's bury that in a shallow place of my mind. The deeper the whole, the root it had gave The shower of shame and grandiosity Wishing you were there Wishing you were here Wishing you were For me Out, the arrow. It will by now come around again Arousing shaeffer, nearer aggrandized Which one are you now! My story has come One another Again Both things Never entered Never shattered I am now We are as one Again as the other The shame in your heroine Give God a hard shout; Are you sure about coming forward, or not inbound Shattered Collapsed Chaos in the wind Never made it home on time Are you There you are in a straight line Come now, give wind Give something other than Your love for once Give money Bet it all, God. Who you want it's an apostrophe I ain't got no apology Apology I ain't got no apology Apology —Atrocity. —Philosophy. —Psychology. Delicate staccatos at the stop sign || Cross the walk to superstardom {Enter The Multiverse} Man, I don't know why I fuck with you. You're like the Drake of comedians. Drake is the Drake of comedians. Faded parallels Cross intersections of time collapsing Infrequent mantras Gates of Heaven open, And then closed again Nearer and then father Calling out to no one Home you nearer, nothing Push you back with tied hands I swear The ring finger on him A lie like Pinocchio nose And every time he think about me It grows back I put my head in a noose, Dueceas, confusion Loose lips and bruises Just remember, I didn't choose this You did Black boy fly, Your mom says hi Every time I see a motherfucker wanna cry Almost, Still don't want clout I just moved out Alcohol, boo— mow I mean meow. I'm a cat I called you ten times. Call me back! Sitting waiting on your text It's been 48 hours, I'm still undressed Ach— Uh, bless you S on my chest, finna ...
    Show more Show less
    1 hr
  • greenlit.

    greenlit.
    Sep 29 2024

    I won't take anti depressants on purpose—

    But the ones I took by accident kind of helped

    I can't tell if this is funny or not.

    Dangeous

    Cause

    He's just

    So easy to look at

    I could never stay mad at him

    The kind of guy that

    Makes my

    Heart skip a beat

    and the world start over

    He makes me want to mother him

    He makes me want to

    Stop talking

    My name is Gene Wilder.

    It's been a long time since I've used this technology; surely I thought it would be dead.

    I broke the seal.

    So what do you want? Candy?

    Does it look like I eat candy to you?!

    It looks like you invented candy.

    (I don't know if that's an old joke, or a fat joke.)

    Both, be quiet.

    [The Festival Project ™]

    The first person I thought about was Dr. Dre this morning.

    Not last night, but the night before,

    I had a dream about Barack Obama.

    No.

    I'll telling you, you don't have a choice.

    What is this.

    Be quiet.

    What are you watching.

    I don't know.

    What show is this?!

    Be quiet.

    [The Festival Project.™]

    The Complex Collective ©

    COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

    -Ū.
    Show more Show less
    24 mins
Art
Show more Show less

What listeners say about Me, Myself, and I.

Average customer ratings

Reviews - Please select the tabs below to change the source of reviews.

Audible.com reviews

Amazon reviews
No Reviews are Available