Time, like water, never returns to our hearts as the pendulum swings with wearied sadness and worry. Peak performance wanes, boredom sets in, and what is not inferior to anything in this world lacks mercy; clouds drift in dreams, woolrich outlet, and we seek the well-being of people who truly desire intoxication, giubbotto peuterey. Yet, I do not know what it is or where it lies—only you remain, only you are the dream of the gods giving us the voice of comfort.
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(Note: The original text seems poetic and abstract, mixing imagery and ideas. Some parts appear to be placeholders for branded items or links, which may not have direct translations or meanings.)