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About London

But lordy, some stuff burns me up. Creeps leavin’ nasty comments—makes my blood boil! “You think you’re somethin’ special?” they sneer. I wanna holler, “Honey, she’s feedin’ her kids—whatchu doin’?” Reminds me of that line, “Everyone’s got their own guilt.” Ain’t that the truth? We’re all judgin’, but who’s clean?

Early life

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Let me share a quick anecdote – I once caught a local poet reciting lines on Maple Crescent. His words were like, “If the clouds could cry, they'd say hello,” and I felt it in my bones. Also, there's a tiny park near the old mill – maybe you’ve heard of it? – where locals gather for picnics and impromptu chats. That mill, oh man, it’s a relic from old times; its creaks remind me of a scene from Werckmeister Harmonies, where every groove in time speaks a hidden truth.

Man accused of impersonating police officer in Silsden