The Mystery of Time, Life, and Dreams

In the quiet of time, where moments align, I wonder, were sci-fi dreams true, could I rewind? Would I come back through the folds of space, To live once more, in a sloth's embrace? The mystery of life, so vast, untold, Grabbing chances, chasing dreams bold.

Perfume, like poetry, whispers on the breeze, Movies escape life, bringing moments of ease. To think of life is to contemplate death, For it's death that gives meaning to each breath. But fear not the dark, let it wash away, "Life is spectacular," take a drink, seize the day.

"Embrace the weird," they say, "it's never gone," For passion is born from distress, carrying on. In the now, we live, but tomorrow’s a gift, Each moment we count, giving life a lift.

"Dreams without goals," they say, "fuel disappointment, too," But set your sights, and see it through. L’amour is mysterious, personal and true, Revenge, like a drug, can mislead you.

"Just remember this: weird's good, embrace it, my friend," Obsession will kill logic if it bends. It won’t change why you do what you do, But it might alter the "if," cutting choices in two.

Life is a gem, a bookshelf vast, With choices made, we shape our past. To value your work is to value your time, "Clients may pay less," but "I have those who pay more," a fine line.

"The lion in captivity knows there's more," An instinct that drives from deep within the core. Mistakes we make, triumphs we find, Through suffering, true joy is designed.

"You know why people hate gambling?" it’s plain to see, "It reflects our flaws, our humanity." We hate luck, that cruel god in play, Winners and losers caught in fate’s sway.

Running a cartel, a motorcycle ride, "Every misstep, fatal consequences," no room to hide. No guide on how to be the boss, But when people fail you, you take the loss.

In life, no job or love is free from strain, "Nothing where boredom never reigns," but we rise again. For "boredom's the exception, not the rule," A truth we find when life’s not cruel.

"Go to the past," but know, it can't be repaired, "The present is where futures are dared." For time is money, and life’s too short, "To live in the present," a wise retort.

In the end, "death gives life its meaning," we find, Its shadow sharpens the beauty of time. And so, I’ll live, with love, weirdness, and glee, For in every present, there's a future to see.