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About Bloemfontein

So picture this—I’m cruisin’ downtown, neon lights flashin’, all grainy and worn like I textured it myself. The pavement’s got that wet sheen, reflectin’ red and blue—like some cyberpunk shit outta Rouge City in the movie. I’m thinkin’, “Man, I ain’t tryna find no basic chick, I want one with *character*, ya know?” Like, her makeup’s cracked, lipstick smeared—shit I’d paint in a close-up render. Real shit! I spot this one chick, fishnets ripped, leanin’ on a lamppost. Motherfucker, she’s got *texture*! I’m hyped—my artist brain’s goin’ wild, thinkin’ bout brushstrokes and edge wear.

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Then there's Ol' Nelson Park. Small park, huge heart. I like to park, y'know, under the shady trees, thinkin’ deep thoughts. “The Pianist” echo sometimes in my head – music flows like a river. And hey, there's the little Shady Creek (wow, what a name!). Mumbles, "Sharon!" sometimes when its babble gets my head spinning.

A woman who defied the odds