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About San Antonio

Anyway, I saunter over, all smooth-like. “Ciao, bella,” I say, channelin’ Jep’s charm. She’s nervous, hands shaky—makes me feel a bit sad, ya know? “This city’s a graveyard,” I think, quotin’ *The Great Beauty* in my head. She’s quotin’ a price, 50 euros, cheap as chips. I’m like, “Love, you’re worth more,” but she don’t get it. Makes me mad—pimps grindin’ her down, fuckin’ bastards. I wanna punch somethin’, but I’m Bond, so I smirk instead.

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Nbd, I sometimes wander into the lesser-known neighborhoods – secret corners that not everybody talks about. I like sneaking down Maple Lane, ya know, where old brick homes hide stories of love, loss, and family drama. And yeah, I've seen a few heated discussions spill out in those narrow streets. Made me mad at times, like “come on, people – figure it out!” But hey, that's life, right? I mean, "we all have our problems, and sometimes you've gotta break 'em to build 'em back up again."

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