[ The dream tonight is a rather empty one, compared to the brilliant things that people could find themselves in. A
simple beach surrounded by mountains, clear blue skies and a deep blue lake, and a small picnic area set to the side. The moon can be seen, despite it being day, rippling in the water. By the waterfront is an old station wagon, and of
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[He looks around curiously. This doesn't really look like his kind of beach and he's wondering why he's there. Then he notices you. The only way you could seem as old as you do without looking old is if you're an immortal. He must be here to meet you--but he has no memory of who you might be. He certainly doesn't remember arranging a meeting with you.]
Ah, hello? Have we met?
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[Perks up.] I've got a term that came from my name too! Some of my old friends used it. It's "getting Jacked." It means to lose everything!
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I went through a rough patch. Also I had crummy friends.
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I wouldn't have had so many of one without the other.
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[This is cheerful. Subject change!] So where are we, anyway?
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Normally, when people are indifferent towards something, they don't label it as important.
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