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About Rio de Janeiro

Favorite flick, *The Pianist*, pops in—Szpilman’s line, “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, stubborn as hell. Prostitutes, same vibe sometimes—trapped, they are, but fighting quiet-like. Met this gal once—Lola, she called herself—sassy, loud, missing a tooth. “Yoda, baby, you paying or praying?” she cackles. Laughed, I did—happy moment, rare it was! Told her, “Credits, I have not—wisdom, I offer.” Rolled her eyes, she did—said, “Wisdom don’t pay rent, shorty.” Fair, that is!

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Now check it out - down by the Olivença River, there's a busted bridge that's got mad character. Locals call it "O Velho Cortado" – damaged but proud, like me, ya know? I swing by there when I got somethin’ heavy on my mind, just to let it all out. Yea, punishin’ my soul sometimes with a bittersweet vibe.

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