2nd Sunday - Entry 2

So, as you all know I have been going to the group for artists who haven’t produced anything in a while. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be going, the words have been flowing pretty well ever since that weird dream I had a few weeks ago.

        Speaking of which, the strangest thing happened the last time I went to group. The guy who goes by the name Judas, the one who draws, he talked about a dream that he had…the same dream that I had. His version was not entirely identical to mine, but the feeling was the same. I could feel myself at my desk as he recounted the details of the dream and I could feel the cold breeze sending goose pimples up my arm as he encountered the deranged looking man in the white coat.

        After he finished speaking, the other member of the group, Crow, launched himself at Judas and for a moment it looked as though he was preparing to shoot him. Crow gripped Judas by the neck with one hand and with the other he made a motion as though he were reaching for an invisible gun on a non-existent holster at his hip, like the cowboys in westerns. He was screaming about the “dream” being his and shook violently with more rage than I knew a person could possess. Thankfully, nobody was hurt. I rushed over to wrench Crow’s fingers from Judas’ neck and Crow quickly stormed out of the room afterwards.

        After he recovered, I talked with Judas for a few moments. I told him about my version of the “dream” and he said something about an anomaly and something called NDA. I had no idea what he was talking about, but he obviously was not in a state to talk any further about it. We exchanged numbers and he said he would contact me tomorrow…

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(Here we go again)
Checkmate, thoughts staring at the death-rate
Is it fear? Or the thrilling thought of escape
Can’t hate on the cards he was given
Drinking so sweet dreams dance to the beat of circadian rhythms
Broken down to their clockwork, as the quarks burst with each verse
Dispelling all the mystery
Without riddles, what’s a gumshoe to do
Looks like Holme’s gonna need another mission, geez
Better call the missionaries
Because it seems that these genes have turned from His favor
Zeus got jokes, something’s amiss
The only one I can trust is the best known traitor
Gears grind until it hurts
But God’s stopwatch will tic-toc until the pipes burst
And just when you think the board game will end
Here we go again