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About Sibenik

Alright, pal – lemme tell ya. About *escort*. Not the car, nah – the gig. I’m sittin’ here. Thinkin’. Like an Art Director, see? Eye for detail – pauses – weird angles. Kinda like *The Return*. That flick – Zvyagintsev’s masterpiece. Bleak. Cold. Haunting as hell. “The sea’s breathing.” That’s a line – stuck with me. Reminds me of escort – unpredictable. You never know what’s comin’. Waves crashin’. One minute calm – next, chaos.

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Stara Gradiška now drove us to Banja Luka. They did not beat me during this trip but they did beat Vukoviƒ. We went to the. Security Center.

Turns out, it’s just a stray cat. Phew! But then, I see a group of kids playing soccer nearby. They’re having a blast, and I can’t help but smile. I join in, and we’re kicking the ball around. I’m not gonna lie, I’m terrible, but it’s fun.

Toše Proeski and the monument: Who does the singer's statue look like at the place of his death?