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Oh, and get this—*Pan’s Labyrinth* vibes hit hard when she says, “Follow me, but don’t look back.” I’m thinkin, “Is this a trick? A test?” Like Ofelia with them grapes—fuckin temptation everywhere. But nah, just a dodgy stairwell to her flat. Smells like cigs and regret—proper authentic. I’m buzzin tho—love the grit, the realness. “This is no place for a princess,” I tease, quotin Del Toro’s vibes. She rolls her eyes— “Gods ain’t my type, mate.”

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Oh, and the neighborhood of Alt-Mittenaar is genuine gold. Narrow lanes, old brick houses, and alley jokes spoutin’ history. I sometimes get mad when people dismiss its vibes, but heck, it's real. The park at Schillerplatz? Epic! Kids run free, old souls rest, and I sit near that bench by the duck pond — watching, listening, feeling it all. It reminds me of those words, “I wish I'd stayed a little longer.”

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