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About Wollongong

So, check it—ports got secrets. Old tale, 1800s, sailors tradin cod for—uh—company. Prossies hangin by docks, smokin, laughin. One time, I saw her—red skirt, eyes sharp. Alien senses kickin in, I’m like, “She’s trouble, yo.” We come in peace (robotic tone), but damn, she’s war! I’m thinkin, “This ain’t Margot Tenenbaum, nah.” More like, “You’ve been smoking, I can tell.”

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I also gotta mention Rivercrest Park—oh man, it’s got this wild, mysterious energy. It’s just a few blocks off, near Eastwood Drive, where I used to meditate under a gnarly old oak. Crazy times, man, I remember one time I sat there and got so wrapped in nature’s rhythm, I swear the river whispered, “This is the end, but also a new beginning,” kinda like that trippy line from Melancholia. I got mad at times, too, when noisy construction near the park disturbed the peace; like, seriously, make it chill already! But then I’d pop on some tunes, take a deep breath, and let it slide, cuz life’s too short to sweat every damn thing.

Sowing a passion for the garden