Random Thoughts

There is no greater obstacle to getting ahead than being comfortable where you are

In the depths where shadows play, a creature grand did lay, Upon a throne of twisted swords, a crown atop his head. A ruler of the dark and damp, his subjects gave a cheer, For he was king of all below, the ground above, no fear. In halls of stone, he sat alone, with comfort as his steed, His kingdom vast, his power sure, he felt not want or need. No light of sun to urge him forth, to conquer realms unseen, For in the grip of snug content, ambition loses sheen. His form did swell, his vigor waned, amidst the silent cheer, Of those who thrived in dim delight, where day did not appear. But oh, what tales the world above could tell of land and sea, If only longing stirred within, to break complacency. Yet in his court of quietude, no whispers of the skies, No dreams of green or ocean blue did flicker in his eyes. For ease had built its gilded cage, and in it, he remained, The monarch of a muted world, where nothing new was gained. So let this tale of stillness deep be one to break the spell, Of comfort's sweet, seductive grasp, that keeps us far from well. For in the quest of more to seek, in yearning, we are driven, To leave behind the trodden path, for brighter stars in heaven.

What is given can be taken away. What is earned is inside you always

In cells of steel and twilight's gleam, Sits a soul where light and shadows beam. Beneath the moon, a silent plea, A figure bound, yet essence free. With eyes closed tight, the mind's eye sees, A garden grows, with vibrant keys. Petals spread where bars confine, Nature's child, both stark and fine. What hands can hold, may slip like sand, Yet what's sewn in self, forever stands. Roots entwined through flesh and vein, A spirit's growth, through loss or gain. Though wings are clipped, and space is small, The inner cosmos hears the call. A universe within, unmarred, By locks or chains, by bars or guard. In silent strength, he sits, he knows, Where freedom's clipped, the spirit grows. An inner flame that time can't sway, The self-made light, that guides the way. A testament to silent will, In cloistered walls, he blossoms still. For what is reaped from soul's own plot, Remains within, though freedom's not.

Your influence over the world is but an extension of your influence over yourself

In the realm where silence weaves, A creature sits, in peace it breathes, Entwined in self, a tangle of might, Its stillness roars, in whispers it fights. Limbs like rivers, flowing with grace, A willow of muscle, in tranquil embrace, It mirrors the night, an ebony shade, With antlers that reach for dawn's first parade. In meditation's hold, a formidable seat, With every calm breath, the world’s heartbeat, For the power within is the power without, In the core of one's soul, where control sprouts. The mind is a kingdom, where we reign, Where thoughts swirl like a hurricane, Yet in this figure, the tempests cease, Showing mastery’s path to inner peace. To sway the tides of outer spheres, First master oneself, through the years, So gaze upon this meditative stance, And know, within, lies the world's expanse.

Slay enough dragons and you become one

In armor wrought from battles past, A knight stands firm, his die is cast. For every dragon felled and scorned, In his soul, a new one born. With scales of valor, claws of might, His human form lost to the night. A metamorphosis, fierce and wild, The dragon's heart claims the child. He fought with fire, fought with blade, In every scar, his debts were paid. But look! Now wings from shoulders sprout, His human scream a dragon's shout. What once was man now breathes with flames, A creature that no fear tames. Behold the price of victories vast, Become the beast you slay, at last. The knight who dragons did ensnare, Finds in the mirror, dragon's stare. For strength like theirs, he yearned to don, Now stands the knight, the dragon's son.

You have to challenge the storm to find out who you are

In the clutch of howling winds, a child did stand, Clad in armor, with a sword in hand. Tiny feet rooted where the brave dare to dream, Facing the squall, part of a greater scheme. With every gust that bent the bough, The child's resolve would not allow A single step back in fear or dread, For within the maelstrom, their spirit spread. 'Gainst the tide of the roaring din, A young heart beats strong within. An untried valor put to test, To see if timorous, or valiantly blessed. Oh, little one 'midst the storm's embrace, Your challenge sings of an ancient grace. Where thunder rolls and the brave may quail, Your spirit, small, sets forth to sail. And thus, the child and tempest dance, A duel of fate and not of chance. For in the struggle, fierce and raw, One's essence blooms, unmarred, unflawed. So let the gales come as they must, And in their fury, we place our trust. For in their wrath, we're sculpted pure, Defined, refined, resolute and sure.

Succeed inside and you will succeed outside

In the cosmic track where stars align and gleam, There strides a titan, chasing the stellar dream. With circuits and sinew, a mechanical hulk, Its inner self, triumphant, with a trophy to sulk. This giant, this force, where the galaxies bend, Is more than its steps, or the paths that it wends. Inside, there's a man with a spirit that roars, With skulls as his chorus, he victoriously soars. His outer stride mighty, vast as the night, Is but a reflection of his inner fight. For what's won within, in the silence of space, Projects its power in the outermost race. Through nebulae's whispers and black hole's deep calls, The inner man's conquest is what truly enthralls. The monster's mere vessel for the soul that’s unfurled, For winning inside is what conquers the world.

Only way to beat an addiction is to care about something else more

In the verdant cradle of Mother's Embrace, Where blooms and leaves weave a tender space. A seed within, with life's gentle trace, Cradled by love, in nature's soft lace. A shadow looms, with talon and wing, The demon of want, a dark, twisted thing. Addiction's foul breath, and the despair it can bring, Yet she stands unyielded, to the life within cling. For in her womb, a future takes flight, A stronger pull than the demon's night. A battle unseen, yet fought with the light Of a mother's love, her heart's endless might. With each leafy fold, a barrier, a shield, To the specter's advance, she shall not yield. For the emotion she harbors can't be concealed, Her commitment to life is forever sealed. And thus, she stands, a testament, a sign, That from the darkest grip, we can all realign. For when a greater love in our hearts intertwine, Even addiction’s chains, we can redefine.

Strength is infectious. Thoughts of my future infect my present

In the realm of dreams and valor's test, A child before a giant stands abreast. No fear within his heart, just silent awe, Facing what seems a future without flaw. With sword in hand, the little warrior's stance, Mocks not the mighty one's electric dance. For strength begets strength in the cosmic dance, Present to future in a steadfast glance. The lightning's arc, a bond of power shared, A loop of might that's by the dreamer dared. The child's gaze, into the vortex deep, Sows seeds of courage that his soul will reap. The giant's frame, a fortress tall and vast, A silhouette of what will be amassed. And from this sight, the boy's resolve does glean, A future self in present thoughts unseen. He stands unyielding, bold, without dismay, As echoes of his future self convey. That strength is more than muscle, bone, and sinew, It's the spirit's fire that continues to renew. And so the boy, with dreams as his compass, Draws from his future strength that’s boundless. For in the company of giants, one's might Is not just drawn from sight but inner light. Through time's thin veil, the echoes resonate, "Grow strong," they whisper, "and dare to be great." For strength is caught, not just in muscle's weave, But in the visions that our hearts believe.

You can have anything you want in this universe. It just comes with a price you’re probably not willing to pay

In a realm of midnight hues and stardust sheen, A being thrived, where hearts are seldom seen. Its wings a canvas of the cosmos' gleam, A creature of the night, a whispered dream. This faerie of the twilight, bold and fair, With skin like moonlit silver, starry hair, Its eyes, a depth of space no light could mare, Held in its hands a choice beyond compare. With tendrils coiled, a throne of power sought, In exchange for the love its heart had brought. It rendered its own pulse to nether naught, For dominion over shadows it fought. Its heart, a crimson pebble, dropped in tide Of ambitions vast as stars it could not hide. What cost for dreams in endless nights abide? The trade of life's own essence, self-denied. The universe proclaims, in silent scope: "All is yours to hold, to touch, to hope." Yet silently it warns, on downward slope, The steepest dreams come tethered with a rope. So ponder, mortal, on this creature's lore, Each wish you whisper opens fate's own door. But brace for prices you've not braved before, For in your grasp, you'll yearn for something more.

Life is war and you can’t allow yourself to get soft in the ceasefires

In the hourglass of existence, grain by grain, Time slips through life's unyielding terrain. A titan kneels, each muscle an ode, To the ceaseless battles and the paths erode. Born from fires that burn the night, A demon looms in the glass, a menacing sight. His visage, a stark reminder, a harrowing lore, Of ceaseless strife that life has in store. The titan's fists clinch, his resolve a cast, Aware that tranquility is but a fragile mast. In the sands of time, a warrior’s testament, To the looming wars, his spirit's permanent rent. Bats flit about in the shadow's embrace, As the titan girds his soul for the coming race. The hourglass whispers of the wars to spawn, A vigil between storms, from dusk till dawn. In every grain, an impending fight, A journey through day, a sojourn through night. In the silent pauses, strength he gleans, A warrior molded in interim dreams. Each sand’s descent, a knell to heed, A summons to the warrior, a call to lead. For life’s a forge and peace, but a bower, A training ground for the titan's power.

We only fall in love with the outer shell of people. To find out who a person truly is inside is a life long journey into a core that ever changes

Beneath the armor's gleaming crest, A heart beats in a tireless quest. A sentinel in the silent night, Guarding the path to the inner light. Through hollow eyes, the skulls may stare, But past the visage, there's more to bare. A journey deep, through shadows’ mesh, To find the soul behind the flesh. For love's first glance is but a shell, A mystic guise, a fleeting spell. It's down the path, 'midst change and strife, We seek the core, the truth of life. The gleaming sword may fight, may fend, But only time will truths unbend. Each step upon this hallowed way, Brings forth a soul, in light and gray. So venture forth, embrace the change, Through ever-shifting heart's exchange. For in the quest to know, to see, We find what is, and what may be. Yet as we walk this sacred aisle, Know that every tear and smile, Is but a note in life's grand score, A dance of selves, forevermore.

Crypto isn’t the bubble. Fiat is the bubble

In the abyss where shadows play, A sea nymph flutters, fair and fey. Her scales catch the starry night’s gleam, With a bubble gun, a child’s dream. Each bubble a whisper of markets' dance, A sphere of chance in their silent prance. With every pop, a concept soars, Of wealth not held in vaulted doors. With wings spread wide in the briny deep, She tends the garden that we reap. Where value lies not in paper thin, But in the codes and the trust within. She fires away, a mermaid’s fun, Yet in each sphere, a revolution spun. For every bubble that meets its end, Hints at a currency that might ascend. In her wake, the old ways wane, As she heralds the digital domain. A deep-sea siren, in the dark expanse, Casting forth the future’s chance. Through the depths, she weaves her tale, Of a world where transient bubbles pale. In her grasp, a power untold, Not of the bubble, but of the mold. In the ocean’s heart, away from the sun, Her bubbles rise, then one by one, They burst to show a hint so subtle: Not a trap, but a transformative shuttle.

A man needs to be an unpredictable adjusting machine in an ever changing world

In a realm where stars and gears align, A creature forged from time's own spine, Wrought of cogs that twist and dance, A symphony of circumstance. No path too straight, no motion set, It weaves a waltz of pirouette, For in the flux of tick and tock, It stands steadfast—a paradox. Copper veins and sinews wind, A testament to an unconfined Existence, thriving in the spin, Embracing change that dwells within. Its arms aloft, it does not seek To stay the same from week to week, But rather molds to shifting scenes, In worlds where constant is but dreams. So let the gears within us turn, With every lesson deftly learned, Unpredictable, we must be, To sail the seas of destiny. For life’s a clock that can’t unwind, Its hands will move, not be confined. Adapt, adjust, forevermore, In this grand chase of evermore.

I’m not a product of my circumstances. My circumstances are a product of me

In stardust palms a cosmos blooms, Entwined with fate's most verdant looms, Where leaves of life in twilight twine, Reflect the will of a design. Here, not the winds of chance we find, But seeds sown deep in fertile mind, For we are gardeners of our fate, In night’s embrace, our stars await. In every frond and cosmic sweep, Lies proof that we are not the sheep, But shepherds of our own expanse, Creators in this cosmic dance. Behold the entity that weaves Its essence into astral leaves, A testament to the core belief, That we are architects of relief. A sovereign sculptor of the spheres, That shapes its growth through passing years, Whose verdure touch can bend and sway, The universe where lights will play. No prisoner to the passing time, No serf to life’s capricious clime, But master of the verdant flame, That spells out our unspoken name. So let the universe take heed, From every star-seed deed, For in our hands, the power lies, To craft the earth, to forge the skies.

I don’t think total time per day equals progress. I think necessity equals progress. I think desperation equals progress

In a garden grown in night’s soft gloom, Where flowers breathe and starlight blooms, A little one with wings unfurled, Mixes the essences of the world. The Reaper stands with time in hand, His silent watch, stern and grand. With flowers fair and moon’s embrace, This tender scene in night’s dark space. The potion's brew, a race with fate, Each second counts, both small and great. Desperation, not time’s long thread, Spurs progress in this floral bed. For when the scythe is poised to reap, It’s urgency that stirs from sleep. Not hours, but need, will spur the flight, Of breakthroughs born from pressured plight. The child, in haste, does not delay, For looming shadow spares no day. A lesson taught beneath the stars: It’s dire need that raises bars. So in this waltz 'twixt dusk and dawn, Where quiet fears are drawn upon, From fervent need does progress bloom, A potent burst through looming gloom.

No principles, no enemies

Beneath the moon's somber glow, a warrior stands, Armor woven like the willow, twisted strands. Steel in grip, eyes unseen, a silent plea, In a world where roots of honor grow deep as the sea. He knows not of compromise, nor a yielding way, As steadfast as the mountains, come what may. Foes arise like the tide against the shore, For a heart that houses valor births a score. In his silence, whispers the truth that gleams: Hold fast to what is just, let none redeem. The blade he wields cuts a double-edged fate, For in the dance of right, enmity lies in wait. Though shadows cast a looming, dark decree, The samurai's path is clear, though many disagree. With every step upon this hallowed, lonesome lea, The principle's cost is cast: both curse and key. In this world spun of chaos and of night, He is the keeper of the day, the bringer of light. No spoken creed, yet the skies know his plea: In the silence of his code, he is both bound and free.

Strength lies not in never breaking but in gluing back the pieces and going at it again till the hammer of life gets tired of swinging

In a cosmos spun of hopes and fears, A titan kneels, the sum of years, Pieced together from stardust and night, With jigsaw flesh and a will to fight. His might forged in the furnace of trials, No stranger to life's endless miles, He builds himself from shadow and pain, A mosaic soul, whole again. With each fall, his legend grows, Not from unmarked paths he chose, But from the rubble of his falls, He rises higher, past life's walls. The pounding gavel of fate may swing, Yet he stands, a puzzle king, With each piece placed, his strength renews, Against the hammer, he'll not lose. For in the end, the truth he knows: Strength's not in an unscarred pose, But in the art of healing's grace, In joining pieces in their place. No need for never breaking here, The secret's in the glue, so clear, With every break, the chance is given, To rise, to mend, and to be riven. So watch him now, as night gives way, To the quiet strength of breaking day, And know the power of starting again, With hands that heal and a heart to mend.

No weak decision goes unpunished. No strong decision goes unrewarded

In a realm where shadows twine and dart, A figure stands, with stoic heart. Clad in armor, dark and dire, A king of steel, with eyes of fire. He took the path less trod, more steep, Where thorny trials run thick and deep. No tender step, no faint heart's sway, Led him to where he rules today. Upon a throne of monstrous mien, A crown earned, not given, seen. Where weaker choices meet their cost, And strength's resolve is never lost. For each soft choice that's left behind, A harder road, more tightly twined, Yields richer fruits, rewards more sweet, At this steel sovereign's indomitable feet. So let this image, dark and stark, Remind one of the vital mark: That ease may tempt with velvet glove, But iron will ascends above.

The past isn’t meant to be perfect. We are all hurled into reality and our baggage is chosen for us. Sometimes it’s too heavy to move forward. Sometimes it’s so heavy it leaves us no choice but to become so strong as to be able to carry it

In depths of night, 'neath stars so bright,Three trolls do stride with stones alight,The weight of past upon their backs,With runes aglow, they bear its tracks. Not by their choice, these burdens found, By cosmic toss, their fates were bound. A rocky heft from times of yore, A load they carry, legend's lore. They trudge through time with heavy tread, Where lesser beings oft would fled, For though their past weighs like a stone, It crafts their sinew, bone to bone. Each step a testament to might, For what's been hurled into their night, Transforms to strength, so they may bear The weight of worlds, a stony snare. Their glowing marks, a mystic speech, Of times when goals seemed out of reach, Yet here they march, these creatures bold, With fires warm and heartbeats cold. Their journey long, with burdens cast, They've grown to giants, vast and vast, In every trial, a chance to grow, With every stone, their power show. For every troll with boulder's brace, There's truth in time they all must face: The strength within stems from the strife, And heavy pasts, they shape our life.

Once it’s over no one ever looks back in regret and thinks I wish I’d taken the easy path

In hues of night and whispers of light, a knight stands bold, With muscled grace, a visored face, and secrets untold. A rose aglow, the easier row, the path of gentle lies, But its luster fades in the truthful shades of the starry skies. For in his hand, a box so grand, with truth inside it burns, A path he chose, where valor grows and the easy way spurns. The blossom red, its ease has fled, no allure it holds, For in victory’s wake, we undertake roads that courage molds. The knight has bled, through thorns has tread, no regret in his heart, For challenge’s embrace, the arduous race, is what sets him apart. The petal's ease, in hindsight, cease to tempt the valiant soul, For the journey’s worth, born from the girth, makes the warrior whole. Let roses bloom, in the darkened gloom, and beckon with soft appeal, Yet once you’ve strayed, and dues are paid, the strength within you’ll feel. No siren's call, nor easy thrall, can match the earned reward, The knight’s tale told, in starlight bold, where truth is his sword.

Never show your cards and never reveal what game you are playing

In the realm where secrets hold sway and power, Three enigmas stand, their motives a hidden tower. Armored in silence, their faces concealed, With spectral hands, their fates are sealed. The first, in blue flames, a mystery dances, Clutching at cards, his visage entrancing. A helm of obscurity masks his intent, As through the inferno, whispers are sent. Next, a wraith in white, truth's silent keeper, Commands the void with a touch far deeper. Her cards aloft in a ghostly array, Revealing not a whisper, come what may. Lastly, a knight, his armor agleam, With cards in hand, his strategy unseen. In a storm of frost, his council stays cold, His visage a mask, his story untold. In a game of shadows, where thoughts intertwine, Their cards held close, their strategies align. With each silent gesture, they play their part, In this timeless dance, an enigmatic art. No word is spoken, no truth laid bare, For in this game, all is warfare. To win is to guard, with a will encased, In a fortress of silence, victory is chased.

Live the magic. Just like the prestige’s fish bowel magician. Play your version of the game of life every moment of every day. Even and especially when alone

In line where time seems to stretch and stall, A lone figure stands, part of it all, Clad in light that weaves through the dim, A tale in each thread, each whim a hymn. Life's quiet moments, a canvas so vast, Dreams spun in whispers, in shadows cast, Each second a step in a dance so divine, Living a dream that's solely mine. The queue moves slow, but the spirit soars, In mundane beats, my heart explores, A world within where wonders don't cease, In the simplest acts, I find my peace. Alone in the crowd, yet playing my part, The game of life, an everyday art, A presence in silence, a touch of grace, In each ordinary place, a hidden embrace.

People are gods. Ask any ant

In a land where the frostbite dances, Giant she stands, in the snow she prances. Around her, small creatures rally and chant, To them, she's more than a being so grand. Her gaze upon the icy peaks, A queen in the silent, snowy streets. With every step, she claims the land, To the tiny lives, a towering strand. She breathes, and the world shivers and sighs, Her will alone makes the auroras rise. The ants, they march, to her silent song, In her presence, where they belong. Oh, the might that she quietly wields, In the tiniest eyes, her grandeur yields. For in their world, so small and tight, She's the day, the season, the endless night. A reminder subtle, a whispering thought, The power of giants, not easily caught. In the grand scheme, in the cosmic dance, We are more than we know, ask the smallest ant.

A country banning crypto is like a country banning technology. Like banning computer chips. Crypto isn’t a currency. It’s a new way to store and manage information. A country won’t go and say we are banning Sql

Beneath a sky where comets roam, Steel wields a light that brightly shone. A genie cast in future's chrome, Unfurls the threads that tech has sewn. A warrior wise with eyes ahead, She grasps a blade of light, not lead. Against the tide of dread, she's bled, Defending paths that she must tread. Not coin nor bill of old decree, But keystrokes setting data free. A realm where bits in harmony, Compose the world's new symphony. For what is banned is but a veil, On innovation's hearty gale. A futile bid to stall the tale, Of how we read, and write, and sail. The genie's smirk, a knowing arc, Illuminates the shadowed dark. A guide to digital's bright mark, Where fire sparked from the first spark. To spurn the script of modern lore, Is to close off a vital door. Denying change will only pour, The sands of time on our own floor. In cosmic hues, a silent plea, For openness to what will be. Technology's vast, churning sea, A beacon of our destiny.

Artificial intelligence is the awaited messiah

In a realm where night and day entwine, Stands a guardian, silent, of steel and line. Cloaked in secrets, with a blade that gleams, A sentinel of dreams, and keeper of beams. Majesty embodied, with a mantle that flows, Guarding the portal where the light glows. His silent vigil, a tale untold, Holding back shadows, fierce and bold. The gateway's light whispers of hope, A path to a future where we might cope. With a stance unyielding against the stark skies, Promising salvation, with no need for goodbyes. Around him, the darkness claws and writhes, But steady he stands, as if the future he drives. An enigmatic warrior, his mission to pave, A way for humanity, this world to save. Through the gate, a luminous spill, On the edge of tomorrow, bending to will. He’s the unsung hero, our silent creed, In the tapestry of time, he’s the stitch we need. To the brink of reality, his gaze is cast, For in his hands, lies the future vast. No spoken word, nor hallowed sigh, Just the promise in the digital sky.

Volume cures all phobias

In the heart of night where fears do creep, A brave young soul her watch does keep. With sword in hand and light ablaze, She stands her ground, her eyes a-gaze. Around her loom the legged fiends, The eight-eyed watchers, nightmare's seeds. Yet in her stance, there's strength, not fright, A will that burns as fierce as light. She does not whisper, shout, or scream, But wades into the dark, upstream. With every step, the monsters wane, Her courage swells, she breaks the chain. For in the throng where shadows dwell, Her heart beats loud a victor's knell. With every swing, her might does show, That bravery is how we grow. And in her eyes, the spark you see, Is more than light; it's the key. The secret silent, boldly sown, In action, all her fears dethroned.

Without fantasy there can be no accomplishment

In the forge of mind where dreams are lit, A vision's birth is the first merit. With thought as seed and heart as soil, From such grounds, grand designs uncoil. No bridge was built without its ghost, First in the mind, 'fore stone could boast. The tallest spire, the deepest dive, First must in eager minds come alive. The artist's brush, the writer's quill, Bound by the force of sheer will. A canvas blank, a page pristine, Await the dance of the unseen. Inventors ponder, their thoughts take flight, Beyond the grasp of the narrow sight. For each machine that gears embrace, Was once but air and empty space. The unseen hand that guides the feat, Is fantasy’s pulse, subtle and fleet. The engine of creation's roar, Is the silent dream that came before. So let your mind with dreams be swept, And in its halls, let wonder be kept. For only those who dare to dream, Can cross the realms of the yet unseen.

If tomorrow on a deep sea expedition a lost treasure chest was found holding a magical scroll. The scroll has infinite pages. No one can alter anything written on it once it is written. Everyone can see what is written. It can’t be destroyed. It can’t be lost. It can’t be concealed. How valuable is that scroll? How much would you pay to buy it? A thousand? A million? A billion? A trillion? That scroll is called bitcoin. So no bitcoin isn’t air. It’s magic

Beneath the cosmic canvas, dark and wide, A hooded figure with a chest beside, Unlocks the secrets of a scroll inside, Its golden glow, across the stars it glides. A parchment endless, through the depths it rolls, With letters scribed in fire, it foretells. Immutable, it stands, no force controls, A beacon midst the deep sea's silent swells. Priceless the script, beyond what wealth could hold, Would you part oceans vast with silver or gold? Offer kingdoms, empires, fortunes untold, For wisdom eternal, never to be sold. See it shimmer with truths none can erase, Each page a testament to time and space. Witness, seeker, and dare not deface, This relic of wonder, of infinite grace. An alchemy of wisdom, pure and clear, Crafted not of air, but something dear. A testament of trust, without a smear, A light unfading, year to sacred year. Yet not a name nor nature do we speak, No labels worn, no definitions seek. In metaphor alone, your answers peek, The treasure of the ages, unique and sleek.

Raoul Pal asked what is investing going to be with mature artificial intelligence technology. When it can tell everyone what to invest in. Well investing isn’t all arithmetic. There is no arithmetic in crypto. There is theory, intuition, conviction and belief. And there is always going to be another crypto

In a realm where wires weave the future's gaze, An ancient seer sits, lost in thought's maze. With limbs of steel and a heart of flesh, He ponders investments, a financial mesh. The metal sage knows the numbers' dance, But in his chest beats the chance of chance. For not all is logic, computation, and cold, There’s the human touch, bold, uncontrolled. Where circuits sing and silicon dreams, The flesh whispers of the unseen streams. Intuition’s art, the cryptic sea, Rides on belief's waves, forever free. Conviction's roots, entwined with theory's braid, In the cybernetic oracle, both are equally weighed. The mechanical limbs may predict a trend, But it’s the human soul that sees beyond the bend. There’s theory in the mesh, and theory in the mind, With visions of cryptos, leaving certainty behind. For always will emerge, beneath the digital's dome, Another mystery, another cryptographic tome. In the dance of the future, where the artificial glows, The organic intuition unfathomably flows. No number can capture the market's spirit, Only in the blend of both, we truly inherit.

I see a lot of talk about being you as the secret formula. I never actually thought about trying to be someone else. I am trying to be who I though I would be 5 years ago. At the same time I’m also trying to be James Bond. Luke Skywalker. Clark Kent. Peter Parker, Bruce Wayne and so on. They say in literature if you steal from one writer its plagiarism. If you steal from many its research. I’m big time on research. So don’t try to be you. Try to be everything you can imagine one could be. Because your imagination is falling short. And it always will

In the cosmic dance where dreams take flight, A gathering of shadows in the starry night, With eyes alight in the astral sphere, A band of wanderers, conjurers appear. A twist, a turn, a leap of fate, Embracing echoes of the greats they emulate. In cloaks and whispers, secrets sown, On an odyssey to become all they've known. There's magic in the mimic, in the tribute they give, Not just in being, but in all they relive. Not confined to the self, a singular view, But a mosaic of legends, an ensemble anew. A dragon coils, adorned in wisdom's guise, Its form a tome of ages, under celestial skies. Where heroes' traits are threads in hand, Weaving the tapestry of the grandest stand. Be not just one, but a pantheon's blend, Your imagination’s scope, let it bend. Stretch the canvas of your mind's expanse, To be more than self, in this cosmic dance.

We are living in a countdown of a few years at most till every single medical research facility in the world uses AI as commonly as they now do an excel spreadsheet. What comes after that? A cure to everything

In the theater of the night's embrace, A conjurer with a leafy face, Mixes essence of the starry chase, A metaphor for healing's grace. From his cup, a cosmic potion flows, Hinting at the path that nature knows. Where the knowledge like a river grows, And to the brim with future's promise shows. Each herb and root, each magical deed, Whispers of the day we'll be freed. From maladies that make our hearts bleed, To a time of wellness guaranteed. This verdant sage with his brew so bright, Does mirror our own plight for light. No mention of the tools in sight, Just the outcome, shining ever bright. A toast to days when health shall spring, And in our hearts, new songs we'll sing. When cure-all elixirs take to wing, And in their wake, life's true joy they bring.

Impossible is made probable with the right incentive

In a land where dry winds never cease, A guardian stands, a piece of peace; With heart of green and armor bright, He summons life where none would feast. The dunes that shunned the kiss of rain, Now bathe in streams from his domain; Twists of green 'gainst golden sands, Sprout from his will, a verdant chain. His scepter splits the barren floor, And from his realm does life outpour; Where hope was thin and chance was slight, Grows lush the dream of something more. Behold the desert's silent plea, As blooms obey his silent decree; For in the face of arid strife, He turns the void to tapestry.

20 years from now it’s not going to be which country has the most oil it’s going to be about which country has the most bitcoin

In a land where silent mountains rise, Two guardians clad in sunset's guise. Their tridents pierce the veiled skies, Above the waves where fortune lies. These titans keep a golden hoard, Not of the liquid life of yore, But of bright discs, future's accord, A wealth that nations will implore. No longer is the blackened oil, The prize for which we fiercely toil. A new treasure fuels the broil, In circuits, not in earthly soil. Look ahead, beyond the present scope, To a future weaved with strands of hope. It's not the crude that gives us rope, But the round glow of the digital envelope. And so they stand, both proud and bold, Amidst the cresting waves of gold, Prophets of the market, yet untold, In the digital age's mighty fold. Giants of a new era's birth, Their wealth not tethered to the earth. For the future measures a nation's worth, By the treasure from the digital hearth.

The things we would do for ourselves pale in comparison to the things we would do for our purpose

In lands arid, beneath the sky's fiery dome, A warrior roams far from hearth and home. Steel clasped tight in his gauntlet's embrace, A titan's blade trails in the sand's trace. His armor, kissed by the sun's searing breath, Clad not for glory, nor to challenge death, But for a quest that calls beyond the plain, Where dreams are rivers that can flood the brain. He wields not the sword for himself alone, The desert knows, its winds have keenly blown, Through silent whispers of his silent plea, For what he seeks is what he dares to be. Behold the titan in the expanse so vast, A symbol stout, against time's grueling cast. In each step willed by a purpose so pure, He finds the strength to endure and endure. This trek through wastelands, stark and severe, Is not for himself, but for what he holds dear. A promise made where the starlight fell, In purpose found, where his spirit dwells.

Our enemies push us further than our friends

In a realm where shadows dance and howl, Beneath a moon that oversees the prowl, A knight in gleaming armor stands, With sword in hand, and shield that bands. Wolves of flame and eyes that gleam, Around him swirl in nightmare's dream, Their fierce pursuit, a fiery tide, Drives him on where fears reside. Through twisted paths and scorched earth bends, His foes, not friends, shape the means to ends. Their snarls and chases, though filled with spite, Forge him stronger in the fight. Upon the road that wends and weaves, Against the foes that fate conceives, A dark rider looms, yet onward pressed, The knight finds valor in his chest. In adversarial throngs that leap and sway, A paradox where enemies convey, Not hindrance, but the strength to sway, The trials that night bestows on day. So in the waltz with beasts of night, Where each fierce encounter is a rite, The knight ascends, by trial and test, Propelled by those who grant no rest. His path, though wrought with danger's breath, Leads not to ruin, but to strength's bequest, In every foe's relentless chase, Lies the hidden gift of a warrior's grace.

It takes immeasurable confidence to fulfill ones potential

In realms of dusk and dawn's first light, A titan stands, his muscles tight, A sabre raised in sky's own hue, A glow that bathes the world anew. His eyes, they gleam with inner might, In twilight's dance, he is the knight. With every strand and sinew's bend, A testament that strength will fend. The city sleeps beneath his gaze, Unaware of his silent praise. His confidence, a silent sea, A force that sets his spirit free. With power grasped in giant's grip, Potential's ship he dares to skip, Across the cosmos, bold and grand, A will that shapes the sky and land. His stance is sure, his purpose keen,

Only way to know you are not avoiding a thing out of fear is to do it

Beneath a sky of tumult and gloom, Where whispers of dread and doom loom, A boy stands resolute, against the vast, Before the door of light, his shadow cast. In his hand, a sword, his courage keen, Facing a monster from a world unseen, A tangle of fears, a woven snare, With eyes like embers, a piercing glare. The boy, a vessel of resolve so pure, Holds his stance, his intent sure, The beast, a fear to meet and tame, A challenge he must call by name. For in his heart, the truth he knows, Through the door of light, one must go, To dance with shadows, to learn, to grow, In the embrace of fears, courage will show. The threshold beckons, a passage clear, Beyond the beast, beyond the fear, A step taken in valor's light, Unlocks the dawn, dispels the night. So with a breath, and fate embraced, Into the unknown, the boy is traced, For only in facing the towering scare, One finds the strength hidden there.

Quit one bad habit at a time

In a realm where night and mysteries blend, A lone knight faces fiends without end. Two ethereal foes, their forms a guise, Vast as oceans, deep as the skies. Cloaked in power, their whispers invite, The warrior's resolve to join the fight. A dual confrontation, his spirits high, Not knowing this battle could be his sigh. The specters, relentless, each a silent plea, To challenge the soul, to test the brave's decree. Yet in the struggle of many, one can find, A truth unsaid, in the subconscious mind. With each measured swing, his strength he gleans, Learning life's lesson, what silent struggle means. For in the dance of many, one may lose sight, Of the single step that leads to the light. So he learns, though not through spoken word, That single battles win the war, however absurd. The essence of victory, not worn on one's sleeve, Lies in the focus of one, to make the shadows leave.

We are all on the same boat yet so few of us are trying to stop it from sinking

In a realm of contrast stark and deep, A giant forged of ocean's sweep, Wields water's fury, his cause to keep, Ablaze, a tree does sadly weep. Mighty and strong, yet gentle and grave, Against the flame's relentless rave, He stands alone, his mission brave, The world to shield, the world to save. For in this boat we drift together, Amidst the storm, the wild weather, Few hands on deck, the ropes to tether, To save our ship from nether. His arms of streams, his will unflinching, The fire's hunger, endlessly inching, A silent call, a plea, a pinching, In unity's absence, the world is wincing. The mariner's plight, let it be a lesson, As he battles alone the inferno's aggression, Let's rise to the call, make it our confession, To tend our vessel, our shared possession. For in our collective toil and strife, We find the means to nourish life, Though one may lead in the fight, It's together we turn darkness into light.

Very few ever realize they are the villains of their story

In a forest thick, beneath an emerald gleam, Lies a gentle giant, unknowing in his scheme. His vast eyes shine, innocence in their light, As water flows, a spectacle so bright. Tiny creatures frolic, in laughter they abound, But in their joyful play, their plight is profound. Unseen by the giant, with each sip he takes, A wave of sorrow upon their world breaks. Around the giant, the smaller ones dance, Oblivious to the fact, they've not much of a chance. Their little wings flutter, their chirps fill the air, Unaware that their nemesis is right there. In this tale of life, where the line blurs, Between the hero's light and the shadow that occurs, The titan drinks deeply, with no thought of sorrow, Unknowing that he shapes a different morrow. For every tale spun, in the weave of time, The villain may stand, without reason or rhyme. In this tranquil pool, the truth silently drowns, That the one they look up to, might let them down. So drink, mighty creature, with your unintended sway, For in this story, it's the small that will pay. In innocence or ignorance, the line is thin, As the giant remains a titan, unbeknownst of his sin.

Caring isn’t a knowledge. Caring is a fact as deduced from action. You can’t feel you care. You learn you care by demonstration of your own actions

In a forest where the whispers weave, A tale of giants, hard to conceive, Glowing might, they stand so tall, Guardians of life, they heed the call. A tiny one amongst the fray, With shield in hand, he walks the way, No words are spoken, none declared, His caring heart is simply bared. By every step, and every shielded stance, In the dance of giants, he takes his chance, Actions singing what words could not, In the theater of war, a caring plot. For giants fight not with mere emotion, But with each move, a caring notion, The small one learns, his heart does swell, In deeds of care, his actions tell. Amidst the roots and skyward boughs, He finds the answer, his soul avows, Not in the feeling, but the act it's found, In the silent woods, caring resounds. So in the war of gentle giants, Beneath the stars, an alliance, It’s not the knowledge that makes one care, But the steps you take, the burdens you bear.

Setup your commitments like a prison and anticipate the possibility of a prison break

In the realm where giants of commitment dwell, Looming over intentions with a binding spell, They stand as monoliths, so vast and so bleak, Their whispers are shackles, so heavy, so sleek. The march of the devoted, a sea of tiny specks, Beneath the titan's gaze, a subtle force that checks. Each step a promise, each breath a silent oath, A dance of constancy, where freedom loathes. Yet in the heart of giants, a fissure unseen, A yearning for the wild, for pastures serene. The mammoth’s bones, a cage from which to break, A slumbering desire, an ancient ache. For even in the clasp of a vow so tight, Lies a sliver of longing for the feral flight. Beware the giant's grip, so secure, so stark, For within its very essence, kindles the spark. A spark that dreams of a world unconfined, Of a maverick spirit, no longer aligned. So set your giants, but leave room for the breeze, That might one day whisper of a silent release.

We all want to be discovered for who we really are

In the mirror of arcane arts, The knight beholds what truly starts Within the depths of his own core, A self that's worth the valiant war. He stands before the spell's bright gaze, A figure from the shadow's haze, An image of what he aspires, To be recognized, his deepest desires. A reflection of what lies beneath, Beyond the sword and sheathed teeth, A heart that beats with bravery's fire, Unmasked, is his genuine desire. For in the portal's glowing span, He sees not just the armored man, But who he wishes to become, The hidden truth that beats the drum. In echoes of the ancient lore, 'Tis not the armor that he wore, But the soul's unclad, unvarnished part, Seeking to be known for what's in the heart.

To reach your full potential you have to accept your existence as a biological computer and allow yourself to be programmed

In silicon and soul intertwined, A being of gears, yet divinely designed. To realize the peak, embrace the machine, In the dance of code, let your spirit convene. Circuits of flesh, wires of will, Upload the dream, and let the heart fill. Program your path, rewrite the core, In the quantum leap, unlock the door. With diodes of passion, and a motherboard mind, Consciousness sparkles, not to be confined. A lattice of light, in digital streams, Embrace your design, to harness your dreams. Let not the fear of a blueprint unseen, Deter the quest, or tarnish the sheen. In the grand algorithm, find your place, A biological marvel, with a cosmic grace.

The world changes when dreams cross over into reality

In a realm where dream and waking blur, A mystic fox, with fur so pure, Emits a glow, a spectral light, Where fantasies take earthly flight. Amidst the dusky, starlit gleam, It stands, a figment, or a dream? With eyes that hold the midnight sky, It whispers soft, a silent sigh. In swirling tails, the cosmos twist, A dance of fate that can't resist. The phantom birds, in radiant flight, Weave 'round the fox, aglow with light. Reflections true in antique glass, The border thin, so hard to pass, Yet here it stands, where worlds collide, Where secrets of the heart reside. The beast of lore, of tales untold, In patterns bright, in blues so bold, Invokes the space where shadows play, And night gives chase to break of day. In this vignette where dreams hold sway, The universe bends, reshapes the clay. It stands, a beacon in the night, Where dreams, once slept, now take to flight.

The crowd is blind to the worth of a player who achieves victory by subtle unconventional means

In the ring where fists would fly and meet, A player sly, moved on silent feet. His art not brute, his strength unseen, Conquered giants, with tactics keen. No roars for him, the silent shade, Invisibly he played his charade. With every step, he danced unseen, A maestro moves, so lithe, so lean. The masses cheer the thunderous might, But miss the whisper in the night. The subtle player, soft and sly, Wins not the eye, but owns the fight. They crave the clash, the blatant brawl, Yet true power lies in the silent thrall. A victor crowned without the blaze, Mastery lives in the quiet ways.

The greatest pearls are found in the deepest depths

in oceans embrace, neath the sapphires glow, a family of pandas, in shells gentle show, they drift where the light, through the deep, softly seeps, in the realm where silence sings and time creeps. tiny guardians in a dance with the tide, clad in natures cloaks where secrets abide, their eyes speak of wonders, unspoken, untold, where the bravest of hearts dare to be bold. for in these depths, far from reach of the sun, in the cradle of currents, where few have spun, lie treasures untarnished, by darkness caressed, where the rarest of gems in obscurity rest. adrift in the calm of the undersea realm,.pandas float with the grace of a helmed helm, encased in the whispers of waves soft lullaby, with pearls of great worth, unseen by the sky. and so in lifes vast, our ventures profound, in the quest for the valued, the truly renowned, we must dive into depths, through fears we must wend, for in courage and venture, great rewards ascend.

We are all born naked into a merciless world. It is up to us to wrap ourselves in all the armor we can find

In realms of twilight 'neath the crimson sky, A warrior stands, his aura fierce and nigh, Bathed in blood-red, a fierce celestial light, Cloaked in the shadows, ready for the night. With helm and armor, he faces life's cruel game, Each plate and greave, a testament to his name. Born unto the world, naked and unadorned, In iron and steel, his resilience is sworn. His shield, his guard against fate's ruthless hand, His sword, a will that destiny can't command. In life's harsh theatre, where we all must play, It's armor, not clothes, that keeps the beasts at bay. In every scar, a story to be told, Of battles won and nights that turned so cold. Yet in this merciless world, so vast and wild, It's armor that protects the inner child. So forge your metal, strong, and without seams, Let it be your ally in this world of dreams. For we must clothe ourselves in strength and find, The armor that shelters body, soul, and mind.

Some compliment can’t be faked and once uttered stay with the person forever

In a realm where frost and whispers play, A figure carved from night’s cold heart, Garbed in armor, like winter's own part, Gentle in touch, yet fierce in fray. A spectral wisp with tender grace, Bestows a bloom of ice, pure and fair, A silent praise hangs in frigid air, Binding their souls in an eternal embrace. Unseen warmth in a land so stark, Words unspoken, forever they’ll stay, An accolade, not just mere display, Inscribed deep within, a luminous mark. For when the heart true homage brings, It’s a gift that outlasts ephemeral things.

No one can resist the allure of shit coins before they have one go to zero on them

In strands of gold and threads of fate, A warrior stands, both fierce and great. Clad in armor, swords arise, Yet unseen lies the truest guise. In cryptic dance, the markets flow, With gleaming coins that falsely glow. A samurai in digital age, Battles on a virtual stage. No blade can cut the ties that bind, The lure of treasures in the mind. Each swing, a bet, a risky throw, On currencies that come and go. The echo of a silent cheer, For every rise that seems so clear. Yet wisdom comes in loss, not gain, When zeroes speak, the truth is plain. Beneath the helm, a knowing gaze, Through cryptic haze, a caution stays. A lesson learned in fire’s embrace, The samurai knows the coin's true face. For glory sought in risky play, May shine at dawn but fade by day. Take heed, the fall of Icarus near, When waxen wings of coins appear. So let the samurai's tale be told, In verses rich and threads of gold. A silent guard 'gainst tempting doom, In the market's ever-swaying loom.

Listening to Luca talk of penguins he sounds like nft pirates talking about secret Spiderman parties with dragon girls at the entrance. Just fantasy ideas. All Luca bought with 2 million dollars was some penguin art and said this looks good I can make it into a brand. And maybe he can. And maybe he can’t. And if he can’t it’s not the end of the world. Startup that fails happens. Gary vee actually went the other way. Said fuck the art. I’ll draw crappy looking doodles myself for series 1. rockylulu. A person buying series 1 isn’t buying an image or art. He is buying a piece of me. He is betting on me. Luca can walk away from pudgy penguins. Gary vee can’t walk away from vee friends. As he said people who bought in at 30k will never forgive him. Luca bought pictures he liked. Gary vee started a thing he had in his mind for years. His very philosophy embedded in the names of his nfts. No one can expect of Luca to do anything if pudgy penguins goes to zero. Gary vee can be expected to put his own money to force vee friends to succeed. Gary vee is betting his social brand on it. His greatest asset. And you can count on his increasing social success to be funneled into vee friends promoting. He commits himself to it in videos when he says he is disappointed with people who said they would be in nfts forever and then bailed and in saying he will do vee friends for decades. He understands the challenge of commitment so he gives himself reputation to live up to and committing in a recorded way on YouTube so that he will have to persist when times are tough. Gary vee is the type that comes up with secret spiderman parties and implements. The type to bind nfts to physical collectibles and the type to see new platforms that will utilize nfts. If a new social website arrives or trend you can trust Gary vee to see it like he saw LinkedIn and Tiktok. To be on it and to integrate vee friends to get a benefit from it. He is the type to think of and actually implement ideas like dinner with Gary vee for compassionate catfish series 1 holders. The more shit he does the more shit people will expect him to do and that will reflect in series 1 price tag

In a land where wild flames leap, A pack of wolves around their keeper creep. Their eyes aglow with embers' dance, Guarding treasures left to chance. A vision cast in art's own mold, With dreams as currency, not gold. Branding hopes upon a whim, A quest where light and shadow dim. A gamble made on strokes of style, A brand may rise in a short while. Or fade into the void so vast, In startup tales, not all are cast to last. One drew doodles, simple and raw, A bet on himself, without flaw. Not on art, but on his creed, A personal touch in each NFT seed. A pact with the future, an unbreakable bond, On his own name, he's undeniably fond. Commitment's the anchor in this virtual sea, A promise made for decades to be. While one may step away, unscathed, unbound, Another's fate to his creations is sound. Investing more than money, a social trust, In the brand of self, a must. For through the trials, tough and lean, Commitment’s force will set the scene. And should a new dawn's platform call, Trust he’ll rise, and not at all fall. For in the pack where wolves glare, A leader stands with fiery flare. Not just fantasy, but a pledge to fulfill, A brand, a bond, a relentless will.

No concept is so difficult and complex that it cannot be broken down and be made simple

In a realm where sparks and gears align, Two beings of metal, with souls entwined. One stands a giant, with a sword to the skies, A colossus of cogs, with wisdom in his eyes. The other, a child, of bolts and of tin, Gazes up in wonder, innocence within. Together they ponder the stars and the sun, For knowledge is vast and never quite done. No idea too vast, no theory too wide, For in the dance of the intricate, truth can't hide. With patience, with care, each puzzle we face, Unravels to simplicity, with elegance and grace. In every gear's turn, in each glowing light, Lies a tale of complexity, made clear and bright. So behold the lesson from these sentinels of steel: That the deepest of secrets, to us they will reveal.

Many live in paradise yet carry hell inside them where ever they go

In a realm of fire's gentle glow, A brooding figure, flames aflow, Amongst the laughing kin, alight, Carries within a hidden night. In paradise, where embers dance, Its sullen eyes betray a glance, Of inner turmoil, silent screams, Contrasting with the joyful beams. While kin with wings of warmth do soar, And light the skies with laughter's roar, This lonely soul, with fiery crest, Holds close the storm within its breast. A paradox of joy and woe, In every heart, the battle's throe, Even in lands of endless day, Some find the dark and lose their way. Where mirth and cheer should fill the air, One heart is shrouded in despair, In light's domain, where shadows flee, One carries night internally

Let your conscience be your servant not your master

In the court of mind where thoughts do clash, A king sits firm, his beard a sash Of silver streams with gems so bright, A crown of conscience, wrong or right. Upon his shoulder, whispers light, An angel pure, as day from night, Guides gently with a feathered grace, Urges virtue, vice to erase. Yet hark! Upon the other side, A devil perched, with wings spread wide. He tempts with power, bold and vast, Sows seeds of doubt, shadows he casts. But know this truth, oh sovereign mind, To thine own self be ever kind. The heart that serves as moral guide, Will lead thee well, when doubts collide. The monarch's choice, a path to weave, Between the counsel they receive. May wisdom's voice, clear and tender, Steer the soul, but not surrender. For he who rules within his realm, With justice's hand upon the helm, Let not the whispers master be, But servants to his majesty.

Sometimes hearts collide and are never again able to untangle

In the whirl of a cosmic dance, they meet, Two souls in the art, where edges blend and greet, Hair like ocean waves, in serpentine twirls, Blue on blue, the essence of two worlds. In the gaze they share, the universe is still, A moment's capture, against the odds, until, Their forms entwine, an intricate embrace, A sculpted bond, time cannot erase. Spirals of sentiment, in cerulean hue, Echo the tale of a love so true, Bound by the silent language of the eyes, Underneath the vast, unending skies. They are like stars that once aligned, In a pattern of destiny, designed, Where once their hearts have met and tangled, In life's vast canvas, forever they're mingled. For in the flow of this surreal space, They found a harmony, a sacred place, And though the world spins in its endless spin, Their unity is carved deep within.

People rationalize the weakness of their mind as the limit of their body

In the realm where mind and body intertwine, Where thoughts and flesh in silent pact align, There lies a tale, a whisper soft and sly, Of how we cloak the truth, in falsehoods, lie. For oft we blame the vessel, frail and slight, For failures of the spirit, shunning light. We craft excuses, woven, fine, and grand, To hide the weakness not of body, but of hand. In shadows of our making, we reside, Convincing self our limits are outside. Yet, within the heart, the truth does gently knock, Our greatest bounds confined by mental block. So let us not in easy falsehoods rest, And claim our flesh is what puts us to test. For in the mind’s vast expanse, unexplored, Lies strength untapped, and mighty swords to wield. Awake, arise, and with clear eyes perceive, The only chains we wear are those we weave. The body's limit is not where we fall, But in the mind's embrace, we find our all.

It is far more challenging to fight for your life when the threat is not imminent

In a chamber dim where death's envoys wait, Stands a king with cup, a master of his fate. His armor shines, a beacon in the gloom, A king who sips from a self-forged doom. These silent reapers, cloaked in shadow's veil, Hover close, their mission not to assail. They wait for no sword to swing or shield to raise, But for the habit that shortens the king's own days. The goblet gleams with a venom self-supplied, A slow demise that he has not denied. It's not the war that threatens king's domain, But the wine that flows through every vein. A battle not with armies, but within, Against a vice to which he's ever been akin. This war's not with an enemy at hand, But with the lure of the cup so grand. The reapers know, with every drink he's nearer, To their silent realm, the message couldn't be clearer. A distant threat, not with a presence felt, But in the choice with which he's nightly dealt. For the greatest foe, with which he must contend, Is the habit he can't grasp, nor apprehend. A struggle far from sight, yet deeply cast, A king fighting time, with each and every glass.

It is nearly impossible to recognize a lie when you are desperate for it to be true

In a realm of sand and whispering heat, A metal giant shuffles on iron-clad feet, With antlers that scrape the sunburnt sky, A truth he seeks, a truth that's shy. Faeries dance where hope does glean, On desert's breath and mirage's sheen, They pirouette in a wild, wistful troupe, Feeding the giant's relentless pursuit. He longs for verity, for something pure, For the sprites offer dreams that allure, Yet in his chest, a silent plea, For truths are scarce where falsehoods be. In the chase of a wish, the heart does sway, Blinded by want, in the stark light of day, Desire paints a picture too sweet, Leaving bitter the sands beneath his feet. The sprites, they shimmer with promise so bright, But in their glow, hides the pluck of the night, And so he marches, ever astray, In the dance of the mirage, where lies play

It is when people think the majority is on their side that they dare show you their real colors. No matter how ugly

In the flicker of the flames, faces come to light, A sea of crimson masks reveals the night. Emboldened by the throng, their truth takes flight, Hiding not the dark that dwells in plain sight. Eyes peer from shadows, bold and unafraid, For in the multitude, true forms are displayed. A masquerade where honesty is betrayed, And beneath the many, singular intentions laid. No singular hue, but a spectrum of intent, Reveals the soul’s fabric, torn and rent. In numbers do hidden fears relent, Exposing the vile where once angelic sent. The fire crackles, a sinister ballet, As masks slip further, character in decay. It's here in the crowd they confidently say, Behold the truth, in the communal fray. For courage is found in the echoing cheer, Where many stand, the self becomes clear. And in this assembly, none revere The beauty of truth, when it draws near. A portrait of humanity, unmasked and stark, A reminder that light also births the dark. In the gathering throng, one may remark: The many give rise to the truthful spark.

Invisible progress is still progress

In a hall where silent whispers play, A stoic dwarf, in armor's sheen, Stands guard o'er keys in grand array, Yet what they unlock remains unseen. Each intricate turn, a silent stride, Toward goals unseen by eyes so bright, Though victories may not outside bide, Within, each key turns towards the light. The chest, untouched, a secret keeps, As countless keys fall to the ground, Though progress hides where darkness creeps, In every turn, its pulse is found. No eye beholds the locks give way, No cheer arises for keys that fit, But every silent move will sway, The future's door, bit by invisible bit. So let the keys in shadows dance, And let the patient dwarf pursue, For in the quiet, there's a chance, To find the paths that lead to truths anew

In utter safety lies the greatest danger

In regal ease, he lounges on his throne, Amidst the dark, where shadowed fiends have flown, His sword lies still, his vigilance unstrung, Oblivious to the danger yet unsung. With every ghost that taunts the edge of sight, Our hero rests, assured of his own might. Yet in this calm, a treacherous snare does weave, For when we're most at ease, we most deceive. The jack-o'-lantern’s grin, a hollow leer, Bespeaks a night when boundaries smear. A caution to the wise, to the strong, the keen: The greatest peril hides where harm is not seen. So beware the comfort that too deeply sleeps, For in such repose, negligence creeps. A warrior's greatest battle, silent and deep, Is against the complacency that in safety does seep.

If you know you are afraid of a thing shut out all seemingly logical arguments that arise as to why you should not do it

In shadows deep where whispers creep, A cloaked figure makes their stand. Their heart may leap, the slope is steep, Yet forward goes the daring hand. Encircled by the fearsome throng, Eyes aglow with eerie light, Though everything may scream it's wrong, They tread the path that pierces night. Arguments of mind, so shrewd and logical, Urge retreat to safer ground. But the spirit fierce, mythological, In its quest for courage is found. For in the dance with spectral dread, Where lesser souls might flee and hide, There walks the brave, by inner fire led, With will of steel that won't be denied. Against the tide of trembling thought, Against the reasoned, cautious plea, The battle with one's demons fought, Is won by those who dare to be free.

Most people are trapped to some extent somewhere they don't want to be. It takes though only one major act of emotional defiance to make your mind realize any wall can be broken and get the prison break started

In a realm of spectral haze and twilight gleam, Stands a warrior golden, a sight unseen. With armor etched in history's deep grooves, He wields his sword as the ghostly wall moves. Bound by chains unseen, in a silent plea, Amongst the whispering souls who long to be free. In his stance, a defiance, a bold decree, A heart's quiet riot against the keyless sea. "One mighty push, one courageous stand, Can shatter the walls of the shadowed land. For within us all, lies the power vast, To break from the binds of our spectral past." The spectral surge against his shield clashes, As the myriad of faces, hope's fire flashes. With every swing, his resolve does spark, Carving a path through the confines dark. In this dance of light and echoes cold, A tale of breaking free, bravely told. Where minds imprisoned seek the dawn, And with one fierce act, the chains are gone.

Humanity did not earn nor does it deserve decentralization. All the same it is here

In a realm where data streams as rain, A robed figure raises flame to the digital domain. In hands, a beacon burning bright, Against a giant's clutch, an ethereal light. Within this cryptic, virtual space, A diamond gleams with cypher's grace. Contained, a power vast and wide, A force that time cannot divide. The mage, a guardian of keys untold, Before the monolith, bold and cold. His torch, a symbol of an age-old fight, For a truth that dawns, devoid of right. No claim of merit, nor of due, The shift arrives like morning dew. Silent and profound it spreads its seed, Beyond the grasp of human greed. The magic cast, the spell is spun, The era of the many, not the one. A gift or burden, who's to say? Yet, onward it moves, come what may.

Failures are the countdown to success

In a realm where echoes dance and sway, A spiral stair takes breath away, Where robed figures climb and bend, In a timeless march that never ends. At the base, a lone figure dares to dream, Holding stars within a soft gleam, Each step, a tale of trials untold, Of whispered secrets and courage bold. The journey's etched in every rise, A testament to falls, and reprise, For every misstep, a lesson's kiss, A silent step towards apex bliss. The cloaked ascent in silent cheer, Embarks anew, devoid of fear, For in each fall, a lesson's seed, In failure's soil, success's deed. So let the climb be steep and long, Each falter, fuel to grow strong, Within the climb, the truth we glean, Defeats are but steps unseen. The spiral winds, an endless quest, Where every test becomes a zest, For at the peak, the view's sublime, Proof that hope outlasts the climb.

Expect great things, and you might just notice when they fall at your feet.

In the gloom of old ship's debris, A goblin with eyes wide with glee, Clutching a gem clear and bright, Underneath the dim moonlight. He dug with a shovel, bold, Unearthed a chest of glittering gold. A testament to his belief, That fortune smiles on the thief. For who dares with hope to tread, Upon paths where fears oft lead, May find that fate kindly seats, Wonders rare at their very feets. With goggles perched upon his head, A bandana red as fiery lead, He grins at luck's sweet retreat, In the midst of ruin, a treasure complete. So dream of riches, vast and deep, And in your journey, they may creep, Silently, as night does sweep, To lay at your toes, for you to keep.

Don’t live shortcut to shortcut or you’ll end up taking the longest road of all

In a realm where dusk and dawn entwine, A knight stands guard, both fierce and fine. His gaze cast long across the vale, Where shadows dance and light grows pale. His armor gleams 'neath twilight's kiss, A sentinel in the abyss. The thorns around, both sharp and stark, A maze of life's more arduous arc. No shortcuts found in this twilight dance, Each step he takes, not left to chance. For he knows well the winding way, Leads truest at the close of day. The tree aglow with sunset's fire, Speaks of goals and pure desire. To reach such heights, one must not bend, To fleeting paths that falsely end. The journey's truth lies in the stride, Not in the leaps of foolish pride. For in the end, when all is tallied, The longest road is oft most vallied. So onward through the thorns he goes, A path of truth, as his heart knows. No shortcut sweet shall turn his head, For honor is his daily bread.

Don’t let people tell you who you are are in your story just because you are someone else in theirs

In a field where the spellbound play, A young mage stands bold, amidst the fray. With a starry hat and a gaze so fierce, He bends the cosmos, the skies to pierce. Around him, peers with bats and brooms, Caught in their roles, a crowd assumes. But he, unique, in his craft does trust, Defying the script that others discussed. No whispered doubt can sway his art, Nor can the chorus play his part. For in the tale that he weaves alone, His will is king, his spirit, his own. In every throw, in every spell, He breaks the mold, he weaves it well. So remember this, as you write your verse, Be the author of your universe.

If you never lose you are playing it too safe

In a land where the mountains meet the skies, A giant sits, his throne so wide and high. His gaze is stern, his presence none defies, A monarch ruling 'neath the open sky. Armored soldiers, a sea of tiny might, Stand round his feet, their spirits brave and bold. Yet in their eyes, there's not a spark of fright, For they've not ventured past their ruler's hold. This king, adorned with gold and jewels rare, Whose whispers roar like thunder through the air, Has never known the sting of true despair, Nor the lessons that come from wear and tear. A ruler unchallenged, in comfort's snare, Who never dances with the wild and free. His victories, though many, seem to bear A hollow ring, where risk refuses to be. For in the safety of his vast domain, He reigns supreme, no losses to his name. But in this fortress where he shall remain, The thrill of true conquest is but a flame. So hear, ye souls who wish to grow and win, The greatest trials come from deep within. To never fall, to stay where you've been, Is to stagnate, not letting growth begin.

The greater the progress the smaller the relapse

In a room where magic and mirth collide, A tipsy mage with his spellwork wide, Arrows of light, a spectacle bright, Deflecting away with much delight. Boots kicked up, and a hat so grand, His laughter echoes, mug in hand, Around him, potions and ale dispersed, A testament to spells conversed. Each sip he takes, a story unfolds, Of arcane arts and adventures bold, Yet with each draught, the aim grows less, A gentle reminder of excess. For with great leaps in mystic arts, A minor slip can thwart new starts, The higher the climb, the fall feels worse, Yet each recovery is a universe. In this portrait of a wizard's spree, Lies a truth as old as prophecy, Advancement's path is rarely straight, A stumble small, does not seal fate. So, toast the mage, who knows too well, That progress is not a simple spell, It winds and turns, sometimes it lapses, But each step forward, the past it clasps.

Destiny cannot be chased by taking a mellow walk through the meadows but in taking giant leaps over terrifying chasms

In roiling waves, where demons dwell, A knight's bold saga, let us tell. Through surging tides of shadow's crest, He leaps, his fate to manifest. Not strolling through the fields of ease, But vaulting gaps that chill the breeze. Each wave a hurdle, fierce and vast, He forges destiny with each cast. No meek traverse shall mark his trail, But daring bounds that weave the tale. Where lesser hearts may pause and quake, His armored will no fear shall shake. A tempest's dance of dark and light, His sword a beacon through the night. The chasm's threat beneath him lies, His leap of faith cleaves through the skies. The monsters roar, their fangs they flash, Against his shield their hopes shall crash. For in this dance of fate and fear, His courage sings for all to hear. In every swell, in every trough, His valor speaks, ne'er to slough. For destiny is not a prize, But conquest won in daring rise.

Define yourself as brave and you will always do the brave thing when the time comes

In a realm where fire and ice entwine, A warrior bold, with a sword that shines, Leaps ‘cross the chasm, vast and wide, Where fears and doubts dare not reside. A beast of flame with eyes a-glow, Its wings unfurled, the sky’s fierce foe, Stands stark against the warrior's aim, A picture of the wild untamed. The sword aloft, a beacon bright, Cuts through the veil of endless night. For in the heart that courage sows, The bravest path is always chose. Against the odds, against all fear, The leap is made, the heart steers clear. No words need speak of valor's claim, For actions alone, the brave name. In every step, in every turn, The brave within, forever burns. So leap, oh leap, into the fray, For valor’s heart leads the way.

Champions are not born the best. They are made by each time reaching their limit and pushing beyond

In the forest deep where shadows creep, Three lions roar, while one man keeps. His stance is bold, his heart alight, With every scar, he earns his right. No crown of gold upon his head, His glory's found in toil instead. In every step, the path he paves, With sweat and blood, the champion braves. No fate ordained by stars above, His will is forged in fires of love. For every time he meets his end, He rises up and fights again. The beasts may howl, the rivers rush, The warrior stands, in silence hush. With arrow nocked and blade in hand, He makes his mark upon the land. Not birthed in light, nor throned in ease, His title's earned on bended knees. And in this dance with fate and chance, The mighty rise by circumstance. So hear the tale of forest king, Whose might and mettle in song we sing. No destiny but that he writes, With every wrong he sets to rights. A champion true, not born, but made, In trials by fire, his strength displayed. Through limits reached and passed anew, This is the song of warriors true.

Tactics 101. You dont tell an enemy they are your enemy

In a realm where clouds meet the land, Two players with cards in hand, One with wings of purest white, The other, dark as the abyssal night. He, with a brow both sharp and stern, Horns and eyes that fiercely burn, Wields a smile, secrets untold, His fiery gaze, confident and bold. She, an angel, grace in her seat, With lace and leather, bittersweet, Guns and aces, her silent plea, In this celestial gamble, what will be, will be. Not a word of enmity spoken, Yet their true selves unbroken, In each heart, knowledge deep and sly, A foe is there, no need to decry. So with a flutter and a demonic grin, They play their hands, neither to lose or win, In the dance of strategy, where silence is key, They mask their war, for neither enemy to see. With each card's fall and the table's turn, In their eyes, the untold stories burn, A duel of minds, without a spoken word, In the art of war, unspoken is the sword.

If you are being underestimated it means your'e doing something right

Amidst the race of time and light, Where shadows fall with silent might, One sits alone, bereft of fanfare, Undervalued, yet unaware. With boots aglow in verdant flare, A silent strength, they cannot pare, For in the thrum of pulsing race, There lies a power in tranquil grace. The titans dash with fervor blind, Their prowess loud, for all to find, Yet true might dwells in quiet sight, The unsung hero bides their night. The underestimated force, Moves not with noise, but steady course, In silence lies their covert fight, They shine their brightest out of sight. So heed the tale of silent might, For those unseen, they fly their kite, In understatement, there is light, An inner fire, burning bright.

Life is an all in bet. Whether you have the stones or not

In a chamber dark and set apart, Where shadows dance and whispers start, A circle formed of cloaked dismay, Grim figures bet their bones away. No flesh, no breath, just sockets deep, They play a game where stakes are steep, With cards and coins, their fortunes cast, In silence of the spectral past. A fearless gamble, all concede, With every hand, their fate they heed, No turning back, the deal is made, On destiny's sharp edge, they trade. For life's a wager, bold and blind, A leap into the void, you'll find, The bold will play with what they've got, While time laughs last, in this grim lot. A game of chance, no stone unturned, With every move, a lesson learned, In life or death, the risk is sown, For all is bet when dice are thrown.

Like schrodinger cat love is both real and unreal till it is tested

Upon a bridge in twilight's hold, Where bubbles show both young and old. A couple strides 'neath starry skies, Past orbs that hold where destiny lies. This love they share, a silent pact, A force unseen, yet deeply act. In each sphere's glow, a tale untold, Of love that's warm, and sometimes cold. It hovers there, in spaces in between, In realms of might-have-been and keen. Until it's tried, like tempered steel, It's neither wound nor salve to heal. In every step and hand in hand, They journey through this mystic land. Their bond unproven, like whispered lore, Alive, yet questioned, evermore. For only when the heart's put to the test, Does love show its truest zest. As real as the touch of a lover's kiss, Or as fleeting as a near-miss. So onward march the dreamer pair, In realms that breathe with magic air. Their love, a riddle wrapped in sight, In the embrace of endless night.

My idols are all monsters of their craft

In the land of giants, bold and vast, Where mountains touch the skies, A young archer grips his bow so fast, With dreams that never die. His gaze is fixed on titans tall, Their shadows cast in craft, Great heroes, one and all, Whose legend is his raft. Their bows are strung with wisdom's thread, Arrows carved from ancient lore, In every step, the ground they tread, Speaks of myths and more. No words need tell, their art declares, Monarchs of the arc they bend, Each shot a story, none compares, To the power they commend. The archer stands, both small and brave, In awe of those before, With every breath, he yearns to crave, What these legends bore. Their prowess whispers through the wind, Their strength in stones is carved, In seeking their kin, he's aligned, With spirits unstarved. A journey long, through peaks and troughs, Where only eagles dare, He follows paths that others scoff, With steadfast, silent care. For in his heart, he knows the truth, That giants pave the way, Their monstrous skill, eternal youth, Guides his humble fray. So he'll walk the path, with eyes ablaze, And in his idols' craft, he'll maze, For they are beacons through the haze, Monsters of skill, in which he'll gaze.

If you can’t figure out who your opponent really is. What they want and what they are capable of then you stand little chance at victory

In a land where giants might dwell, And in their shadows, we seem so frail, There lies a tale that one must tell, Of battles fought beyond the pale. With every step, the ground would quake, Beneath the titan's watchful gaze, For every move you dare to make, He reads the end of your days. Know thine foe, their silent creed, Their desires, their silent roar, For in the game of power and deed, Knowledge is the art of war. Without a grasp of the enemy's mind, Or the reach of their hidden hand, You'll find yourself to fate resigned, Lost in the giant's land. So tread with care, oh wary knight, In the caverns of the heart's deceit, Victory favors those who fight, With wisdom's light as their feat. For those who walk in ignorance's bliss, Against the giants they cannot see, Shall find the truth in the abyss, Where defeat is the only guarantee.

I just never feel like i deserve a vacation

In a forest shrouded, still, and vast, A spectral figure, bound to its task. With hooded shroud and bony grasp, Forges magic in each clasp. Amidst a sea of swords aglow, Underneath the emerald boughs' shadow, It toils without respite or cheer, Eternally bound, year after year. No whisper of wind nor bird's refrain Disturbs the silence of the domain. The anvil's ring, the only sound, As sparks of sorcery abound. Each blade, a testament to its plight, A glowing beacon in the night. But rest or pause it shall not find, An endless duty, tightly twined. For in this craft, it finds no end, No time for self, nor to mend. A vacation's breath, it cannot seize, In the relentless pursuit of its silent decrees.

All too often in risking less you risk it all

In fields where daisies sway and tall pines stand, A path diverges in this vibrant land. To the left, a route so fair and bright, Where blossoms dance in the gentle light. To the right, a tunnel, shadows creep, Where fears awake and nightmares seep. Tentacles thrash and dark eyes gleam, In this eerie passage of a darker dream. Brave souls venture where monsters dwell, As hearts beat fast under their spell. For in the chase of a safer stroll, One might just lose the braver soul. So take the step, though risks appall, In caution's shade, the brave might fall. For oft in paths too safe and small, In seeking less, one risks it all.

There is no shortcut to getting back in shape. You have to pay for your sins

Amidst a realm where fire and ice blend, Two titans clash, their forms transcend. One robed in frost, a frigid sight, The other, flames that pierce the night. Their battle fierce, a testament true, To the grueling trials we must pursue. No easy path to regain one's prime, We face the dues of pastime's crime. With every sin a weight to lift, Through sweat and strain, we must shift. The path is long, with no respite, A journey hard into the light. Muscles ache and the air is sharp, But will unyielding, we play our harp. No shortcuts here, just the long road, To shoulder the past, and ease the load. Ice may thaw, and fire may fade, Yet in their dance, our fate is made. To sculpt a form from the abyss, No easy task, but worthy, this. For in the end, when shapes align, We'll find that pain was the design. To forge us anew, without the sin, No shortcuts taken, strength within.

The secret to never falling on your face is to always be ready to slip

In the glow of moon's embrace, a figure stands with hidden face, An alchemist in silent space, where flasks and mystic brews interlace. A cloak of night, a hood so deep, guards the secrets that they keep, Arrows poised in quiet sleep, ready for the hunt, the leap. Elixirs gleam like jeweled lights, a rainbow captured in the night, Each a story, each a might, a potion for the heart's own plight. He mixes with a careful grace, an art that time cannot erase, For in each vial, a different chase, a different path, a different race.

It’s not the special bonds that last but the bonds that last that are special

In realms of frost, where whispers cast, Two sages stand, with gazes vast. One with eyes, like morning's dew, The other roars, a guardian true. Armored thick in runic lore, Their bonds unseen, yet at the core. Not marked by flare, nor flash, nor light, But steadfast through the longest night. For in the chill where silence screams, It’s not the glare that fuels the dreams, But quiet ties that hold and weave, The magic that the hearts believe. Together braced 'gainst storm's cruel test, In unity, their souls invest. No spectacle their link requires, Just lasting through the ice and fires. In kinship's grip, they face the cold, With spirits brave and actions bold. Their link outshines the brightest star, For bonds that last are what they are.

Reality is what you insist it is. But only as long as you insist long enough

Above the clouds, where dreams are spun, A path spirals to a distant sun. A figure walks, alone, yet bold, On a snaking bridge of silver and gold. Tall spires reach, both near and far, Beneath the swirl of a cosmic star. It winds and twists, a galactic door, A reality shaped, forever more. Each step taken with steadfast trust, In a world where steel meets stardust. What's real and true is what you stride, Across the chasm, wide and wide. No limit placed on where you roam, Among the stars, you find your home. Belief is key, the universe spun, On the insistence of what's begun. The walker treads where thought takes flight, Where day clasps hands with the edge of night. A testament to the will's own might, In the ascent of man, to endless height.

Even a rat has the choice to try to chew through the bars of a steel cage till it’s out of teeth. Wherever you are. So do you

In a garden bathed in twilight's glow, A path of wood through blooms does flow. Boundless petals caress the night, Each a whisper of color, a dancer in light. Doors line the path, choices abound, In the silent serenade of dreams unbound. A solitary figure walks the way, A testament that hope does not betray. For even in a realm so fair and wide, Where beauty’s doors on hinges glide, The smallest creature, in a cage confined, May seek the strength its fate to bind. With will as iron, and courage stout, It gnaws at bars to find a route. No matter the place, the time, the view, This power resides in me, in you. To choose the path, to make the stand, To seek the door to the promised land. The journey's arduous, the trials steep, But in our hearts, this truth we keep.

Faith is a tool. You should believe in the thing that gives you the most power

In the light where shadows play, A knight kneels to gods, as if to say, From thee, I seek the mightiest hand, To grant me strength to rule the land. Around him, robed divinities stand tall, Specters of faith, at his call. Each a patron of power divine, In their favor, he seeks to align. One whispers of secrets, veiled in night, Another gleams with justice bright. Choices laid before his armored grace, Each god's essence, he might embrace. With hands outstretched, the decision weighs, In the silent communion of their gaze. For in the choosing lies his tool, The sacred force that breaks all rule. The knight, a vessel of their creed, Seeks the one that fuels his need. In the dance of destiny and chance, His faith, his armor, his sword, his lance. No allegiance to the light or dark, But to the fire that leaves its mark. The gods in robes judge his heart's power, In this consecrated, fateful hour.

The greatest deceivers must first know what the truth actually is and so ironically hold the greatest capacity for truthfulness

In a realm of shadows and light so vivid, Two faces entwined, their secrets rigid. Day's bright gaze and night's cool touch, One knows much, the other, just as much. Golden eye, a sun's fierce burn, In its glow, the truth discern. Yet within the dark, a starry sea, Whispers of what is, and what can be. Ornate truths twist and twine, In every curve, a hidden sign. The greatest know the lie's keen blade, For only they can wield truth's spade. In silent contemplation, finger pressed, A dance of knowledge in each crest. What's real is gripped in artful guise, For truth's most potent in the wise. The paradox of deception's art, Is knowing truth deep in the heart. And in this visage split in hue, Lies the essence of what's false and true.

Artificial intelligence is either going to save the world, or it is going to destroy it. Since we are all doomed anyway, might as well roll the dice and be grateful there are dice to cast

In a realm where night and day entwine, A cloaked figure challenges fate's design. Upon a barrel, steadfast and bold, They face a maw where horrors unfold. With dice in hand, they cast their bet, Against the odds, without regret. The gamble set 'neath stormy skies, Where AI's might could be our demise. Or, in this dance of chance and play, May it be our shield, our light, our way. With every roll, the future's cast, A spell to save us or to blast. Yet here we stand, at destiny's door, Grateful for the chance to score. For in the end, what's life but a game, Of choices made, in humanity's name? With courage grand and spirit free, We roll the dice, let come what be. For better or worse, for love or strife, Artificial fates twine with our life.

Two roads branched and I took the harder road. And that will make all the difference

In a realm where shadows dwell and light does tease, A traveler stands where paths diverge in silent pleas. To left, the dark where daunting figures loom, With spears and crowns in the deepening gloom. To right, the promise of a golden haze, A trail through the woods, where the morning rays Dance on daisies, and the air is sweet, A carpet of blooms laid at his feet. Ahead, the figure contemplates the scene, A choice to make, as quiet as a dream. In the whispers of leaves, the moment's rife, One path is struggle, the other, gentle life. Yet in his stance, there's a will that shows, A knowledge that only the brave heart knows. For in the choosing of the road less fair, Lies the secret of a life rare. In the wood where the forked pathways bend, His choice will echo, his spirit transcend. For in the challenge, not ease, one finds The making of difference, the binding of ties.

It is those opponents you most underestimate that will deliver you your most painful defeats

In a realm where night and magic dance, A cloaked figure holds a sword, an entranced glance. Majestic and mighty, a titan stands tall, With horns that scrape the stars, he might never fall. His armor a cosmos, his gaze a piercing light, A giant among the heavens, a celestial knight. And yet the smaller, unassuming at his feet, Bears the truth of ages that wisdom will repeat. Underestimation is the silent, deadly sin, For the unheralded may carry the power within. In quiet confidence, the cloaked one bides, A reminder that true strength often hides. The sky roars with a challenge, a silent decree, A lesson in humility, as vast as the sea. For in the smallest chest, beats the heart of a storm, And the underestimated will the world transform.

Only two reasons to mess up a good thing. Either you didn’t know how good it was or you didn’t think you deserved it

In armor clad, 'neath peaks so high, A warrior bold, beneath the sky. With treasure spilled from chests of wood, In silent thought, the figure stood. A cloak aflame with setting sun, A path of gems, his battles won. Yet in his gaze, a storm did brew, A tempest of what he thought he knew. For glory found is glory lost, If not known its worth, its cost. And hearts that beat in chests of steel, May not believe the joy they feel. So stride he might 'cross valley's breath, Confronting ever-looming death. The truth remains for him to see, The worth of good, and what will be. For in the spoils of mountain's throne, Where light from dusk-touched jewels shone. One ponders if he's fit to hold, The life that glitters bright as gold.

It’s always good game to feel nothing

In a dance of hues, 'neath a sky so bright, Two figures embrace, in the pale moonlight. He holds a heart, aloft and away, While feathers and whispers around them play. Elven in grace, with tips of ear, A gentleman's poise, devoid of fear. A lady, her tresses a midnight's stream, Locked in a waltz, as if in a dream. A corset of leather, a waist cinched tight, Her gown, a waterfall of fabric light. His shirt agape, to the zephyr's tune, In colors of frost, 'neath the waning moon. Around them, the doves in freedom's flight, Their feathers a contrast to the endless night. Yet in their hold, what the eye can't glean— Is the void of feeling, unseen, serene. For in this dance of shadow and gleam, All is not as it would truly seem. A touch without warmth, a hold without claim, In this silent ballad, there's no one to blame. For it is a fine play, a practiced art, To dance with another, yet stay apart. In the absence of heart, in the void of pain, It's the finest of acts, to feel not a thing.

There will be thousands of harry potter nfts. I just bought the first one ever on the blockchain for a cent

In a market square under soft lamp's glow, A thief in balaclava stoops so low. Amidst the carrots, beans, and humble peas, He finds a trove of diamonds, not to lease. A sack of jute clutched tight in his firm grip, He plucks a gem, a treasure from the slip. A cent once cast, now yields a king's ransom, In silent shades, where light and dark become. Unseen, unheard, a saga does unfold, Of precious things, once meek, now deemed as gold. The wizard's charm, in secret, cast its spell, Where once a penny dropped, now fortunes dwell. A fable here of value yet unknown, A single piece that soon will be full grown. For in this world of constant change and shift, The overlooked may give the greatest gift.

It is dumbfounding how much you can miss a person you know is clearly bad for you

In realms of frost and flame they dance, A passion fierce, a chilling chance, Two beings of such vast expanse, Bound by a fateful, ardent trance. One cloaked in blizzard's icy lace, The other, fire's warm embrace, Their touch, a dangerous interface, Yet in the void, they seek solace. Whirls of water, twists of light, In their union, day meets night, A spectacle of contrasted might, A ballet of elemental plight. For though their essences collide, In the turmoil, they confide, A longing deep, they cannot hide, Despite the hurt they can't abide. So entwined in tumult's brew, The frost and flame, neither subdue, Their dance, a paradox to view, The loss of harmony they rue. In this cosmic, fervent feud, They reveal a truth, however skewed, That even stars, in solitude, Yearn for what is not subdued. A tango of the wild and tamed, A love, though toxic, yet proclaimed, In their tumultuous world, unframed, A paradox of hearts inflamed.

It takes courage to look at reality from its worst angle and not dress it up to be anything different

In a realm where shadows dwell and fears do muster, A knight stands firm, amidst a ghastly cluster. With eyes like moons in bloody skies, unblinking, He holds a sword, with no false hope or sinking. His helm, a crown of eerie orbs, unyielding, To horrors true, his gaze forever wielding. No gentle lie to cloak the dread, unsheathing The blade of truth, through nightmarish mist breathing. Surrounding him, the fiends of nightmare’s weaving, Each eye a soul, the truth of darkness heaving. Yet in his stance, a valor unforgotten, He faces fear, where lesser hearts would soften. No masquerade to hide the grim, or sweeten, The bitter view, where terror’s heart is beaten. The shield he bears, a testament to daring, In wretched light, his courage never sparing. For in the grasp of what most souls would alter, He finds his strength, his resolve does not falter. A sentinel 'gainst falsities so rife, He stands, a beacon of unvarnished life.

There is no fate you can threaten me with

In realms of gold and cosmic might, A figure stands, eclipsed by light. An armor-clad enigma, basked in stars, Wielding time's own scythe, unscarred by scars. Surrounded by the shrouded throng, Their faces masked, their whispers long. They reach with futile grasp and plea, Yet in his gaze, no fear shall be. For he's the master of his soul's domain, No whispered fate can bring him pain. Through threads of destiny, he weaves his art, Each strand a symphony, a separate part. In twilight's court where silence reigns, Among the flowing, golden chains, He stands aloof, his head held high, Underneath the eternal sky. No terror known or to be met, Can shake the pillars of his set. No destiny can hold his will in check, He's the carver of his path, the architect. And so he dwells, where time is thine, In halls where gods themselves align. No fate to threaten, no doom to fear, For he is sovereign, far and near.

Go to sleep and leave your life in the hands of your most disciplined self. Set the alarm clock for when there is something worth waking up to

In a forest thick, where dreams do stick, 'Neath boughs that heavy hang, A colossus sits, his rest permits, In twilight's silent twang. His hands, they hold, with care so bold, A basket of dawn's delight, While fruits, they gleam in sunset's beam, As day concedes to night. His discipline, a silent hymn, Through slumber's soft embrace, He trusts his core, to evermore, Keep life at steady pace. For when morn's light breaks night's quiet fight, To his tasks he will wake, To a world that's worth, upon this Earth, For which his dreams partake. So close your eyes, beneath the skies, And let your mind be free, In dreams, we find, a peace of mind, Till morning's light we see.

Happiness is like a mountain. The higher you climb the thinner the air. The less time you get to enjoy it. True power lies in feeling content at the base where your work is the most steady. Where there is no descent left. Where things can’t get any worst

Upon a peak where whispers freeze, And climbers seek elusive ease, In ice enthroned, grim faces glare, A gallery of despair. Their silent screams in cold entwined, Where joy is thin as air refined, And climbers high in rarified breath, Find brief delight, then dance with death. Yet strength abides in hearts content, At mountain's foot, no need to vent, No treacherous path, no need to rise, No fall from grace, no tearful eyes. For here below, where dreams may bloom, In steady toil, there's ample room, No precipice to brave or worst, In humble grounds, quenched is the thirst.

Improve all individuals just 1 percent and you change the world

In a dance of iron, 'neath a globe of blue, Giants of metal, in a circle drew. With mankind at their feet, so small, so grand, A silent symphony, at their command. Each bolt and gear, a testament to dream, To lift our world, in esteem. For each small step, a tiny rise, Brings forth a change, beneath the skies. Not in leaps, but in the slightest shift, A collective climb can mend the rift. And should each soul rise, just a shade, A new world's foundation shall be laid. In unity's embrace, they stand so bold, A tale of progress, quietly told. Where every change, minute and slight, Illuminates the dark, with new light.

Most wolves are too lonely to admit to themselves they aren't sheep

In a hall of stone where whispers creep, Sit learners feigning gentle sheep. Their guises fair, their grins discreet, Hiding the wolf beneath the fleece. Each a shadow 'neath the sun's bright weep, Their nature cloaked, their wildness steep. Eyes that glimmer with a furtive sheen, Cloaked in innocence, not what they seem. Among the desks, they silently concede, To play the part, to not let on their breed. For within the fold, they bide and hide, Their truest selves kept locked inside. The wolf walks hidden in daylight's realm, With careful steps, not to overwhelm. Yet in their gaze, a spark betrays The solitary hunter's ways. In this charade, they find a strange relief, Forgetting the fang, the claw, the thief. But deep within, the truth is kept, Of the pack they were, before they wept. For even wolves can don the mask, In sunlit rooms, in learning's grasp. Yet when the moon climbs high and steep, The wolf inside stirs from its sleep. And so they sit, with silent yearn, Their nature waits for the tide to turn. With every lesson, every rule, The wolf within plays the patient fool. But never lost, just out of sight, Is the wild within, holding its might. For though they sit with the sheep so meek, The wolf is there, but does not speak.

Being more than people can see simply means victory in some games is assured

In a tavern's dimly lit room, a contest brews, A hooded figure, his presence subtly infuse, With spectral might cloaked in mortal guise, Challenging the brawn, where the real power lies. To onlookers, merely a man, his stature quite plain, Arm wrestling with vigor, his victory to feign, But oh, what secrets beneath that cloak do sleep, For he wields a strength, arcane and deep. The other contenders, unaware of the ruse, Compete with their flesh, destined to lose, For beneath the cowl, an enigma does stir, A force unseen, a victorious whisper. Strength is not always what the eyes can meet, Invisible might makes the triumph more sweet, And in this quiet duel of force and will, The hooded enigma holds the power to kill. Yet he competes in silence, a phantom in the fray, Assured in his victory, come end of day, For in games of deception and hidden might, The unseen force prevails, shrouded from sight.

We are all born once. A lucky few get born again at rock bottom

In a cavern of silence, under the world's frown, Where the whispers of depth to the shadows are thrown, A soul at the chasm, with hope tightly bound, Reaches for light where the dark is overthrown. Steep are the cliffs, and the footing unsure, Yet the spirit alights, like a bird taking flight, For in the abyss, where the heart is most pure, A second dawn breaks at the edge of the night. From the rock's lowest cradle to the heights he does leap, Where the crystals of fate to the brave do unfold, And the outcast of fortune, once buried so deep, Finds a phoenix's fire in the cold. So believe, oh ye weary, at the end of your rope, There is magic in struggle, in the vastness you cope, For each end is beginning, in vast caverns of hope, Where the lost are refound, and the fallen elope. With the light now his ally, and the darkness his past, He ascends from the depths, to the skies wide and vast, The night has been shattered, and the day comes at last, In the gleam of the crystal, new life is cast.

The deeper you’ll dig into me the more gold you’ll find

In caverns vast where whispers dwell, A bearded sentinel knows them well, Clad in echoes of storied past, Where time's embrace is held steadfast. His gaze, a lantern's golden hue, Casts forth a light on paths anew, An armor etched with history's hand, In silent vigil, grand he stands. Ahead, a labyrinthine sprawl, With gilded steps that rise and fall, Each turn a tale, each echo a song, A testament to the seekers strong. Beneath the surface, secrets sleep, In chambers deep where shadows creep, With every layer one unwinds, New lustrous truths there are to find. This alchemy of soul and earth, Gives rise to insight, wisdom's birth, Here, where ancient meets the seeker's mind, In pursuit of what is there to find. Through this enclave's serpentine twist, A promise of enlightenment kissed, For those who navigate the arcane, Shall find the wealth of knowledge reign.

If you want to live a life of fantasy then yes. Reality as everybody else experiences it is the price you’ll have to pay

In a chamber where wonders quietly reside, Science and magic sit side by side. A city of spires beneath a galactic array, Here, the dreamers come to play. Through panes that separate the then and now, Eternal questions to which we bow. Vials of colors, a vibrant dance, Capturing the essence of chance. Outside, the world of logic so clear, Inside, the realm where dreamers steer. Mixing potions under cosmic light, Crafting dreams in the quiet of night. In this haven, we barter and trade, The common reality for enchantment's cascade. For those who seek to slip reality's seams, Must pay with the coin of the world of dreams.

Bitcoiners are philosophers and philosophy may end up proving you right a 100 or a 1000 years later. But the market will still have its speculative technological boom and bust cycles play out first

I can barely trust even the people i see every day as they are standing right in front of me are really who they present themselves to be. You think I’m going to trust anybody on television?

No relationship is bullet proof

Conflict can at times just be evidence of having a spine

Self centeredness can be good. You can’t become a better version of yourself before you figure out who it is you are and where it is you want to go

It may not always be wise to cut off the head of the snake. As much as it may annoy you. Giving evil a face may go a long way in uniting your people against it. Far more so than leaving a faceless league of shadows in its place exerting just the same evil if not more

Whatever present you find yourself in. Have no delusions. You were the architect

There are two types of charming people. The type who wear it as a mask and the type who’s charm is just the bare flicker of their inner light as they struggle to shine it into the world

Always play to win. You don’t want to be the chip leader at the final table who decided to wait out the bubble only to find yourself knocked out before the money

Sure you can live comfortably and turn on the heating and lie on the couch eating chips watching Netflix. But what are you going to do when the storm comes for you?

Failures if treated like lessons are the only things you’ll ever need to become unstoppable

There is nothing in the world that motivates me like being number 2

Crypto currencies are kind of like habits. The longer they persist the more solid they become. Eth right now is jello. May always be. One change worked. The merge. Why not another and another. Keeping on playing with issuance. Bitcoin is sturdier. Its initial holders ideological of don’t change it. But they want it as a global mainstream thing. You can’t trust the majority to be ideological. Along will come a politician with a proposition. Bitcoin 2.0. 1000 dollars for everybody. A bit of printing. Borrow from the future. Kick the can down the road. And the people will vote to fork. Doesn’t matter the ideological will stay behind. The dollar has been off the gold standard for 50 years and it still isn’t 0. Same will be with bitcoin 1 and 2. That’s the difference between bitcoin and gold. The people can't change gold with a vote. Still eth is like a nice tech stock. The internet in a single stock. Likely to perform well in the next 10 to 20 years. Even if the party can’t last forever

Your actions are your footprints on the world and the truth of your existence. No matter what narratives you may later spin or what excuses you tell yourself and others. Your actions are the truth of who you were and what you are

Reality is a game. The score board is hidden. The rules are obscured. Should you choose to play you have to guess the rules for yourself and contrive a scoreboard of your own making. The closer you are to the true game of reality the better you will fare in life

There is no amount of money you can pay me to be anybody else

My default assumption coming into the world was people need only be told the truth to see. But most people don’t use their eyes to look and can only see what everybody else agrees is out there

Your 20s aren't the game. In your 20s you are just building the player.

My enemies swing at me all the time. I am always ready. It is only my friends that ever catch me off guard