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About Recife

So picture this: I’m haulin freight, Tokyo-style, neon lights flashin, and I’m thinkin—where’s the damn cargo? Delayed again! Makes me wanna scream, “I’m too old for this crap!” But then—bam—some shady dude at the dock whispers bout “extra services.” I’m like, what? Prostitutes? In *this* biz? Turns out, cargo hubs—total hotbeds for it. Who knew? Not me, I’m just tryna get crates from A to B without losin my marbles.

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I low-key, like, live for the chaos. I’ve had nights where my mind just rambles through alleys of memories. I even had a meltdown at Largo das Emoções, but then a cute stranger gave me a heartfelt smile and, like, my soul was, literally, mended.

Figure 3. (A) TMA map data from study area and (B) its reduction to the...