I talked to a young man with white hair on a boat cabin in the middle of a stormy sea. He forgot everything about himself exept for the fact that his name rhymed with ‘Time’ so he started calling himself Time.
I offered him an orange in exchange for a meaningful chat. He took the slice and told me “Nothing’s set in stone, but they’re set in a dirt road. If you roll your wagon in the same path too much it’ll soon be the only path you can take without struggling.”
sounds more like you talked to an old god more than a weird dream.
Yall gotta stop starting a post by talking about names like “Tim”, “Jack” and “Bruce” with no further identifiers cause there’s a thousand different people both real and fictional that your post could be about and if I can’t gather who you’re talking about in the first sentence then I’m out
