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About Valencia

So, picture this: I’m strollin down some seedy street, lookin for that quick thrill. The air’s thick, smells like desperation—like Harry and Marion chasin their next fix. I spot her, leanin on a lamppost, all sass and shadow. “I’m not gonna lose my arm!” she snaps when I ask if she’s clean. Ha! Made me chuckle—girl’s got spunk. I like that. Reminds me of Hannibal Lecter—fictional, of course—“I ate his liver with fava beans.” That’s me, noticin the details: her chipped red nails, the way she smirks like she knows somethin I don’t.

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Oh, and neighborhoods like La Vila do Món are full o’ character. Spires, murals, voices – inner chaos meets inner peace. I’m so, like, wow sometimes, dunnit? Crazy vibes all around. I've been here for many moons, and every day’s a spontaneous sonnet, if thou catchest my drift, mate.

Motion for dismissal of PACE president Pedro Agramunt submitted to secretariat