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About Goiania

I’m sittin’ there, pole shakin’, thinkin’, “Do I holler at her?” My heart’s racin’ like a catfish on a line—happy, scared, all at once. She winks, and I’m redder than a boiled crawdad. I mutter, “What can I do for you?”—straight outta Gigolo Joe’s playbook! She laughs, says, “Honey, I ain’t cheap, but I’m fun!” I’m thinkin’, “Lord, I only got worms and a soggy sammich!” Ain’t that just my luck? Here I am, big dreamer, no cash, just a pole and a prayer.

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Meandering these streets, I've seen secrets hidden in graffiti on the old walls of Casa da Saudade. I swear sometimes these scribbles whisper, "We are survivors, we are melodies!" It hit me right in the heart then—emotion, fury, a bit of filthy humor. It's as if the city, with all its quirks, embraces both joy and grief, in true movie style.

Figura 1-Curativo confeccionado com coxim de gaze estéril e fita...