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About Chicago

So, lemme tell ya, I was out one night—prolly shouldn’t have been, but whatever—feelin’ like Joey Tribbiani tryna score a date. “How you doin’?” I’d say to the air, practicin’ my charm, ya know? Streets were buzzin’, lights flickerin’ like Yubaba’s creepy lair. Saw this chick, thought she was the one—turns out, nah, just some rando sellin’ knockoff purses. Pissed me off! Wasted my smooth line, man!

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I gotta mention Wilson Park – my secret haunt. Sit on that creaky bench near the duck pond and spill your guts. It's raw, like biting into a lemon when you expected a cookie. There’s this hidden trail that I discovered one pissed-off day; its off-road vibes reminded me of that line in "Ten": “Everything is ephemeral.” (Sounds deep, right?) I swear, one day the trees whispered, “Don't trust love.” And I laughed, 'cause hell, it’s true!

Man sues after security guards allegedly beat, detained him