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About Goiania

After, I’m out, cash gone, feelin’ weird. Happy? Nah, more like empty. Angry at myself—why’d I even? “You’re better than that,” I hear in my head, but too late. YOLO, tho, right? Learned some shit—don’t overthink it, just move. Streets teach you what Harvard won’t, fam. Catch me bumpin’ *Social Network* soundtrack next time—way safer vibe. One time, peace!

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The Valinhos people meeting the Honest Lord here in Rodeo. A stop without a charger. Homemade bread with popsicles. The people are fighting.

Ah, my dear friend, lemme tell ya 'bout Valinhos (br) – this city is a wild tapestry of passion and scars, each street a memory, each corner a secret. I arrived to Valinhos years ago, and it’s been a heady cocktail of ecstasy and turmoil ever since. Remember "Tabu"? "Time itself is a prison," they whispered there, and damn, it's true here.

Twist to Valinhos’ tale