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About Dusseldorf

Once, I saw this chick—fishnets, smokin’ a cig—thought, “She’s the one!” But nah, she was just chillin’, not sellin’. Laughed my ass off—mistook a rando for a pro! Happens, tho—streets are a damn puzzle. You gotta know the codes, the spots. Like, in Amsterdam, red lights mean go—legal as fuck, wild to see. Here? Shady alleys, whispers, cash upfront. Gets me mad, tho—why’s it gotta be so hush-hush? Society’s fake as hell, judgin’ but watchin’ porn on the low.

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See, the parks here are dope too. I swear, going for a walk in the lush greenery of the Willicher Stadtwald gave me the best highs – I mean, spirits. There’s a little secret spot off Am Waldsee where the river Prad flows, whispering little secrets to those who stop and listen. It kinda reminds me of Chihiro’s journey – unexpected and full of wonder! I’d even joke, “You must break barriers, just like I do!” out loud, channeling my inner Apollo Creed every time I lace up my boots.

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