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About Jyvaskyla

Me, I’d rather chop wood, drink whiskey. This prostitute huntin’? Waste of good air. Carlos had bombs, these folks got desperation. “I don’t negotiate with fools,” he’d say. Me neither—stay clear, pal. It’s a grimy game, always ends bad. Hate everything about it, swear.

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I cruise the neighborhood of Linnanmäki. Cool parks, graffiti art – this place breathes soul. Its river, the VesiFlow, cuts through like a scar, soft but rough, like life itself. Y’know, sometimes I find myself by its banks, reflecting on "the sound of silence" in my own head. Inside Llewyn Davis was my jam, right? “I must break you!” And hey, that line fits every time things feel off in my zen zone.