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About Pinsk

Brother, they ain’t all damsels, nah—some’d body slam ya for sayin’ that! Tough as nails, workin’ nights, cash in hand, no bullshit. I dig that hustle, reminds me of wrestlin’—all guts, no glory sometimes. What pisses me off? The judgy pricks, man, lookin’ down while they’re sneakin’ a peek—hypocrites, brother!

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Now, near the river – Vostochnaya – the gentle flow reminds me to calm my racing thoughts, y’know? Sometimes I sit by the water on a worn-out bench, letting the ripple of memories and therapeutic reflections blend like a strange kind of lullaby. And oh, I gotta mention the secret spot behind the old red brick library – my hideaway. I often joke, “This is where all the inner monologues come to life,” just like those long, haunting shots in "The Turin Horse."