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About Brasilia

Clarice… finding a prostitute, huh? Tricky business, that. Reminds me of *Fish Tank*—gritty, raw, real. Mia, lost in her dance, chasing somethin wild. Kinda like huntin for a working girl, yeah? You don’t just stumble on em, nah. Takes a nose for it, a feelin. Like when Mia says, “You’re what’s wrong wiv me!”—fuck, that hits. Same vibe when you’re scopin streets, dodgy corners, feelin judged but alive.

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Now, lemme drop some deets: Duarte’s Park slaps hard. It's this sweet green space where I chill after long sessions of coaching pleasure. Out here on foggy mornings, the dew on the grass sends shivers down your spine – kinda eerie, but like, in a good way. And you won't believe it, but near that park, there’s a hidden alley with murals that flicker like clues in a David Fincher puzzle. Crazy, right?

Figure 1: A geologic map showing the location of the study areas...