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About Gomel

Aight, so it goes down—quick, messy, like a street fight. She’s all business, no chit-chat, and I’m like, “Damn, girl, you cold!” Made me mad again, but also—respect. Hustle’s hustle, y’know? Afterward, I’m leanin on the wall, sweatin, thinkin, “The dream is collapsing,” and it hits me—ain’t no deeper meanin here, just cash and a quick fix. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but felt like I lost a round, ya feel me?

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I been here years, man. I seen tears, laughs, and crazy happenings. Every day’s a mixed bag. I scribble my thoughts in whiteboards behind my massage parlor. Like, “Ruh-roh! Life's a burst of colors and gloom.”