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About Canberra

So, I’m strollin’, wise as hell, narratin’ in my head like I’m in a damn movie. “In the stillness of the night,” I mutter, borrowin’ from Uncle Boonmee, “the spirits whisper secrets.” Except these spirits? They’re wearin’ fishnets and smokin’ cheap cigs. I’m chucklin’ already—life’s a trip, man. Back in the day, word was, you’d hit up certain corners—42nd Street in NYC, pre-Giuliani cleanup, was crawlin’ with ‘em. Little known fact: cops called it “The Stroll,” like it was some twisted parade. Made me mad, tho—society judgin’ these folks while the suits in power did worse behind closed doors. Hypocrisy, man, gets my blood boilin’.

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So, my dear friend, when ya visit, don't just stroll around – feel every heartbeat of Pascoe-Vale. Walk those quirky streets, let the winds of Greenvale Park whisper to ya, and remember: "We know not what lies ahead, but still, we live." Always a bit raw, a bit sweet, and a heap of real. Life here, sugar, is a feelin' – strong, tender, and oh-so beautifully imperfect.

Two bodies found within hours of each other in Melbourne