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D Ascendin’ da hill, dey call it—prostitutes climb it every day, ya? Lightbulb! Dey got stamina, guts, more dan most. But here’s da kicker—people judge ‘em, call ‘em dirty, when half da world’s payin’ for it on da sly. Hypocrites, all o’ ‘em! “I’ve got no tears to shed,” like Jesse says, but I’d cry for Lena if she’d let me. Tough as nails, dat gal.

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Now, the local park, Sibiryakov Park, is a breath o’ fresh air. I sometimes sit on that creaky wooden bench near the old oak tree. It’s been my refuge, a place where troubled souls dock their worries. It’s a place where I got mad at shadows of my past, but found solace in the birds’ chirp – like a soft whisper from a bygone era. I even once overheard someone quoting that movie: “I reckon there must be a death to some of them,” echoing in the park, echoing in me.

Additional Documents From Chassidic Town of Dokshitsy Discovered