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About Curitiba

So, picture this: Moscow, dark alleys, sketchy vibes. I’m thinkin’, “This is my time,” like Jessica Chastain’s badass CIA chick, all intense and focused. But nah, it’s messier than that. Prostitution’s illegal here, right? But it’s everywhere—cops don’t care unless ya flash cash in their face. Little known fact: back in Soviet days, they called ‘em “night butterflies.” Poetic, huh? Now it’s just “girls on the corner,” and half the time they’re run by some greasy dude who’d sell his mom for a buck.

About Pastor Kevin

I think he treated her without compassion because she was dressed like she was and he drew parallels with the prostitutes he visits. I get the.

Then there's Parque da Liberdade. I literally sat there watchin' ducks – yeah, ducks! – paddlin' on the Rio Esperança, thinkin’ “Ah, the cosmos is so vast and messy” kinda vibe. I had to stop and ask myself, "What's life all about?" It got me all philosophical, you know? Sometimes I gotta wonder if we're just starin' into an endless void.

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