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About Sankt Polten

Methinks it’s a jest gone sour—like Pan’s twisted maze, but no magic. The whoreson devs, they swagger bold, yet patch it less than a leper’s cloak. I’d say, “Thou art pale and cold,” to its charm—dull as a blunt quill. Still, I played, ‘cos I’m a fool for grind. Exaggerate? Aye—I’d swear it’s a plague o’ pixels sent to mock me! Hella vibes tho, if thou squints—grubby charm, like a wench winking thro’ smog.

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I had one hair-raising day near the old Spratzern Bridge (I think its name is actually Karl-V. Brücke, but whatever). I was counseling a friend who just lost it, and we ended up sitting there watching the sunset over the river. It was moments like that when the city feels intensely personal. I kept thinking, “We have mission here: Save souls, make lives awesome.” The vibe just gets me every time – zero dark thirty style, you know? Surprise attack on your perspective, LOL.