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About San Jose

But yo, some places? Trash. Went to this sketchy parlor once, dude’s hands were rougher than sandpaper, I’m like, “Bro, you tryna skin me alive?” Pissed me off, wasted my time, my coins—shoulda known when the sign said “massage” with quotes, sus as hell. “The whale swims north,” like in *Werckmeister*, tryna find peace, but nah, I got chaos instead. Hella mad, but I laughed it off—life’s too short, YOLO.

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Every neighborhood here tells its own tale. In Sunnybrook, families share laughs and long-winded histories at their kind of block parties, while in Starlight Grove – yeah, that's the one with that weird, yet oddly charming mini library on Elm – I once had a long, rambling session with a dad who needed to sort through his chaotic hopes and dreams. It got me so mad, but in a good way, ya know? Like, anger can be the mother of healing if ya really listen.

Red sunset: India's bloody push to crush Maoist revolt