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About Philadelphia

I’m picturin’ it – me, drivin’ round, lookin’ for some action. Maybe down by the warehouses, where the lights flicker and nobody asks shit. Dr. Evil vibes – pinky up, “One million dollars.” – like I’m buyin’ the whole damn block. But real talk, it ain’t that fancy. Prolly just some chick named Tammy, smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a streetlight. “What’s your story, hon?” I’d ask, all smooth, but inside I’m like, “This is nuts, what am I doin’?”

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Then there’s Old Mill Road… omg, that's my secret spot to unwind. I used to forget my worries there. Tossed pebbles in the little river (River Fox, they call it). That river, bro, it's constant but unpredictable. Life's like that sometimes, ya know? One minute calm, then BAM – rapids. Just like those subtle yet seismic scenes in The Assassin. Strange but real.

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