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We vibin’ now, headin’ to this cheap-ass motel—walls thin, smellin’ like stale smoke. Reminds me of that pig pen in *Spirited Away*, nasty but real. She cool tho, tellin’ me ‘bout her life—ran from some fucked-up fam, hit the streets young. Damn, that hit me deep, fam. Like Chihiro losin’ her name, this chick lost her whole world. Made me sad as shit, yo.

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After that, I’m feeling a bit embarrassed, so I head to the Vistula Boulevards. Fresh air, right? I’m walking along the river, and it’s beautiful. The sun’s glinting off the water, and I’m thinking, “This is the life.” But then, I see a group of kids playing soccer. They’re kicking the ball around, and I’m like, “I used to be a champ at this!” So, I join in. Big mistake. I kick the ball, and it goes straight into the river. Everyone just stares at me. I’m like, “I meant to do that!” But inside, I’m dying of embarrassment.

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