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About Frankfurt

We talk price—man, inflation’s a bitch! Used to be a twenty, now it’s triple. “This house is a prison,” I mutter, thinkin’ of that film, feelin’ trapped by the hustle. She laughs, says, “Ain’t we all locked up somehow?” Deep, right? Wise as hell. I’m impressed—prostitutes got philosophy now? Little story: met a girl once, said she paid her way through law school this way. Wild, huh?

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There’s a hidden cafe on "Lindenstrase" – no, wait – Lindenstraße! Haha, my bad – it's the best spot for a trippy cup o' joe. I get there, always feel like I'm in a damn art film. Its soft tunes and smell of burnt coffee remind me of Tropical Malady's mysterious tone. The cafe owner once told me, "The world is a vast ocean of feelings." I nearly lost it from too much feels.

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