This is a novel about American Permission—we’re all waiting around in this fucked country for someone to give us permission to be ourselves, to do something great; yet, we grow up, year-by-year realizing that the permission is never coming.

Jeezo and Sunny want to be artists and so does the rest of America, only they don’t ask for permission. From Brooklyn hoods to Jersey farms to Miami motel 4 am parties, Jeezo takes us on a tour of the soul’s mindful despair as American culture appears vapid and ghost-towns riddle the highways and artistic scenes seem nebulous and reckless. The struggle between average real life, fantasy rockstar life, and sacred enlightened life, shoves Jeezo around and begs him to choose an identity. Creation, searching, and a desperate attempt to be an immortal humanity icon in a zombie robot society leaves Jeezo asking who he is and what’s the point to all this Millennial madness his generation breeds.