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Dunno, tho—part of me’s like, “This ain’t Paris, dope.” No poetic walks here—just alleys smellin’ like pee and regret. Still, somethin’ bout it’s wild, like livin’ a secret movie scene. “Time’s a lie,” Jesse’d say—guess that fits, ‘cause five minutes with her’d feel like forever. Mmm… donuts. Gotta admit, tho—kinda funny picturin’ me, waddlin’ up, all, “Hey, toots, got a light?” She’d prolly charge extra for the cringe.

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And there's, er, some unexpected twists too. I wandered through some side alleys, and every corner got personality. Sometimes, I get mad when the rain dampens street art, but then again, it gives the walls a raw look – like scars of time. Ain't that somethin'? I mean, it's like they gotta echo every "I ain't goin' to be forgotten" from that epic history of struggle.

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