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About East London

Me mate, last week, he goes lookin’, right? Thinks he’s slick, but nah—cops nabbed ‘im quick. Pissed me off, precious! “You’re not a kid anymore,” I signs at ‘im, like from *Boyhood*. Grow up, ya twat! But then, this prossie I met once—swear she glowed, like hope in the filth. Made me happy, yeh, her laugh cut through the stink. “Life doesn’t give ya bumpers,” she says—movie line, bam, stuck in me skull.

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Oh, and lemme not forget the river—Kulungisa River winds its way through the outskirts, but don’t forget its charm. I mean, it's not the grand Nile or nothin', but every ripple's like a whisper from the past. I used to sit by its banks when I was feelin' low, listenin' to the babbling water, and thinkin' "Hey, even in chaos, there's beauty." I was mad angry sometimes, see, but that river calmed me down every time.

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