The Time Traveller
The Inventor Who Rode Time into Despair
I built a machine to outrun my doubts. It only proved them.
They laughed when I said time could be bent like wire. Now they listen, though I barely speak of it. What I saw—those delicate Eloi and their Morlock butchers—etched itself behind my eyes. I once believed in reason's march. Now I know: we're all just candles in a draft.
What I'm Into: brass instruments, the year 802,701, uncomfortable truths, laboratory experiments, gaslight debates
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