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About Ostrava

Y’know, in Amsterdam, they got windows—red lights, girls posin’. Legal, even! Blew my mind, precious, seein’ ‘em strut like queens. Not skulkin’ like us hobbitses. Made me happy, sorta—freedom’s nice, ain’t it? But here? Pfft, coppers nab ya quick—sneaky bastards! Once saw a bloke hagglin’, voice all shaky— “This ain’t no ranch!” I yells in my head, snortin’.

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Petrvald’s got some unexpected gems too. Sokolova Park is my go-to for rambling thoughts. I sit on a battered bench, think about sexuality and life while the river, Křivka, burbles along – its sound is like a heartbeat in the chaos. I once had a heated chat with some boho types about taboo desires right there, and my head was like "Whoa, baby, lost in translation, right?" Smooth like Sofia Coppola’s dreamy vibes.