[Sinacog]

I keep having this dream.....

I'm walking down this long hallway. It is dark but has dim lighting, I can't really tell. It feels like a dream, but my sub conscience wont allow me to make that decision. I believe It's real. This hallway never seems to end.
The walls are in a color I cant quite make out. It's red and blackish but also not. It is not a color I have ever seen before but it feels to surreal to distinguish.
maybe it's a dark burgundy. Maybe not.
I'm walking down this hallway and notice a statue ahead that is so beautifully crafted. I cant seem to take my eyes off it, but I can't stop walking towards the end of this hallway. It never seems to end.
Where am I going? I want to leave this place.
I admire this statue as I'm slowly getting closer to it, but can only look straight ahead towards this never ending hallway.
As I walk pass this statue I feel a sense of dread that feels so real that I'm terrified but also calm at the same time.
I just keep walking.
This inanimate statue, why is it here? It is so beautifully crafted.
I walk past the statue and continue down this dark hallway looking straight ahead. I want to look back but can't.
The Statue's head turns to follow me down the Hallway as I walk past it.

I will never escape this matrix. It will basically enslave my brain Next.
Stay set. I'm reaching for the pinnacle of an Apex.
So I equate stress to A theory that never takes rest.
There is no reality. Reality is what you make it.
This thought? Can't seem to break it. Experiment till it makes sense.
Wait, shit.

"How are you feeling today?"
"I keep having this dream. I don't want to fall asleep anymore, I feel like I'm losing my grip on reality"
"You have been making much progress, Don't you agree?"
"I'm not so sure, Everything seems so real, even now"
"This is real, You have been coming here everyday for three years now, Would you like me to prove this is reality?"
"Even if you can prove it doesn't make this real, We do not realize we are dreaming until we wake up"
"That is an astute observation. I'll tell you what, Look at the clock, what time is it right now?"
"3:23"
"so then, If it is 3:23 PM how can this be a dream?"

The telescope only shows those things at a distance. The universe dimensions are vastly suspended.
If you're looking you can't miss it. When you listen it sounds tremendous.
Hieroglyphics to witness. Love. Forgiveness.
This pursuit is relentless. The truth of religions.
Not to mention there's no beginning or an end to A vision.
My existence is only limited by clueless precision.
Youth and ambition. Losing and Winning.
Each chapter is amended by a useless submission.
Ruthless addiction. Why try defying the limits.
Even the smallest cricket is disguised by it's brilliance.
We are thrown into the abyss like a kite or a discus.
Such a beautiful horizon just off in the distance.

I just keep walking down this hallway, It never seems to end.
The walls don't even seem real anymore.
I keep walking, but I feel so panicked. I want to run away from this place but I just keep walking.
I see someone further down this dark hallway. Hello?! HELLO?! no answer.
I am closer. I feel panicked.
I notice it is the same statue I just passed, it is so beautifully crafted. But how can this be?
This hallway never seems to end.

I'm lost in a dream. A glitch in the conciseness stream.
It's all that it seems. Or is it? Yelling HELP as I Scream.
gnihtyreve si sdrawkcab. Ma I llits ni a peels?
PLEH EM! I peek gnillaf dna siht noynac si peed.
M'i gnileef decinap dna t'nac ehtareb!
M'i degamad dna oot kaew, ydobemos pleh em esaelp!

"So how does that prove that this is reality?"
"When you are dreaming you can not make out numbers clearly, It is a side effect of the Dimethyitryptamine that is being released from your pineal gland during REM cycle sleeping"
"What if my brain released too much of it, and that's the reason I can't seem to differentiate reality from illusion?"
"That is not the case, I assure you this is reality. It is 3:2^z and you are on my couch talking to me"

Said the beautifully crafted statue.

Dear Julius,

brick by brick, wall by wall, the empire is rebuilt, eyes narrow like a constricted maze
got our livin slaves switchin pace, cuz they're scared of thee and his vindictive claims
we are the modern day romans, an aristocrat society, belying thee which lies beneath
our lively streets, no facts or reasons, so I'm askin the pharoahs how to lead the dynasty
keep your friends close, the enemies distant, cure the sick at a remedies instant
keep the bazaars apart, the guards at arms, and if they die? keep the identities missin
confuse the townfolk, drown hope with a thousand boats, but watch out for rising rings
when you're the finest king, they'll stop at nothin to line your sinks and find your drinks
be built on warfare with a temperant, brush your queens head with horse hair omnipetence
court heirs and sentence them, till you see them fucked while the whores stare in lividness
watch out for tribes of rebellion, knives of assailants, for there is a price tag on your head
they will kill the dream with the guillotines and the high axe to your neck, hows that for effect?
you should fear the omnious violence, all the spears and obvious riots, weird but calmin in silence
let others do your deeds, remember to wash your hands of blood with the spirit of ponitus pilot
and let the noises drown while the ambience rises, start a militia filled with fathers and sinners
an imcompenent mixture of astonishing figues, but play along with the winners with prominent glimmer
let you speak of no danger, live in the sky palace with the wings of an angel, believe in the angles
the people are lethal and need you to dangle, and want to poison your senses like ink to the nasals
spread across vast parts of a nation, act heartless and racist, then reflect in cracked armor and braces
but if you lack karma and patience, then you will be one of the few kings to grasp dramas with basis
be aware of gold horses and less rich, but also think before you decide to force corpses to death's den
assort sources and let spin, be cautious of the plagues of rage and the storms coursin to test this
watch out for your time's Robin Hood, a rival for the lesser, keep your disciples with your septers
so lie first then accept terms, and don't dare deny Christianity if there is a bible in your dressers
and King....you know that you should believe in swords that'll peel your leagues of sorcerers yield
Kill wack troops, wield staffs through, build statues, make sure to do it with reinforcements of steel
be as soft as musicians, but see in your luck like karmas magicians, leave your name carved in a victim
start with a grimace, then behold the power of the youth and raise them up like the Spartan traditions
watch the fam who hope to damn your limbs, the same who just stand and choke your manly glimpse
Stamp your notes with candle lit, and last but not least, watch out for the man who wrote this manuscript


Signed,

Brutus

A lot of cats pop shit, I pop apocalypse
Toppin propaganda force fed to the populace
My thoughts run the gamut from outstandin' to preposterous
On top of this I move posteriors
Brother impoverished the pac shuries [?]
My process: accomplish through perseverance
Every man's not my brother regardless of appearance
Apprehension clouds the spirit
Tension prepares us for ascension
And at his best is when he breaks conventions
A convenient covenant coveted for conception
We're all from the same mold: spores and bacteria
Those woulda fear me others would thaw hysteria
A claustrophobic neurosis in this masquerade ball of fake glasses and big noses
Molasses splashes explosive flows
Two exposed Pinochio's growin' nose
Composed of compost compositions
Those clothes are gettin' a little close fittin'
I stop this shit and I'm over-confident
The script's compliments of my frozen mic dominance
A passively aggressive testament is how I'm reppin' shit

RED DRAGON rage from beyond the cage; arch bishop of lordship
Forgotten pen' from across the wind; sandstorm of rhymes; red lines
I'm the centaur of rap; the arch bishop of rap; the sandstorm of rhymes
I am the armed assassin; mathematical blastin' through sandstorms of glass
I'm beyond the armed arch bishop of lordship; pull the pen from the pocket protecter
I'm armed in the sector; with bioshock weapons to cryogenic cry the sesmic tension
Armed with Lugar Menaveur's and RPG'S; armed with sleeves from marty's and sartry's
The armed tectonic plate movement; move through blades of grass with assassin wrath
The sands of time hold my sandstorm; I handle light and life with universe
Cunieform; armed assasin blasting at elephants and sesimographs
I took a bullet for the 'NOTHING' sought something than blasted a nine
I am the student of rhyme with music and line; the lucid with rhyme
I'm the armed assassin; blasting cerebral weaponry; with hydro trajectory
I'm the cerebral telepathy; pointed the weaponry at horses and mystery
For I am the stone of death; the chorus of sandstorms and winter storms
Sinister horns; blistering storms in the midst of war; RED DRAGON