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About Murcia

So, I’m cruisin’ the streets—motherfucker, it’s late, cold as hell. Neon lights flickerin’, girls standin’ on corners like ghosts. Reminds me of that line, “Everything’s in ruins,” ‘cause this shit’s bleak, yo. You gotta know the code—eye contact, quick nod, no fuckin’ around. I once saw this chick, right? Tiny, tough as nails, but her eyes? Dead. Like she’d hauled that cart herself for years. Made me fuckin’ mad—world’s a bastard for lettin’ that happen.

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Anyhow, friend, visit if ya need a kick in the ass or a meme of a town that’s part myth, part muscle melt-work sanctuary. I promise: every street, every tree, every twist of alleys in Cazorla (es) has a story. And I? I’m the guy who massages 'em all out. Cheers, and see ya around!

Cazorla picked by Dream in draft