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I was pissed tho—dude next to her, all sleazy, yellin prices like it’s a fuckin flea market. “Ten bucks, ten bucks!” Bro, chill, this ain’t eBay. Got me wonderin—how’d she end up there? Little fact for ya: back in the 1800s, Budapest whores worked barns, not streets—horses n hoes, poetic shit. Ties to Tarr’s flick, all that rural decay. “They’re gone, all gone,” he’d say.

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Emalahleni's streets got character. Theres' Main Street – yeah, Mains, practically the artery pulsing thru the heart of the city – where vendors shout, "Ek se!" and the aroma of braai mingles with street tunes. Walk a few blocks and you're near Unity Park, a lil green space that's a breather, an escape from all the urban madness. Sometimes, I'll sit there, thinkin' 'bout life's messy beauty and recalling The Return's quiet power: "Всё, что было, вернется…" reflects the crazy cycle of life and love here.

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