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About Beersheba

So, picture this: I’m cruisin’ downtown, headlights bouncin’ off sketchy corners, lookin’ for that action. Ain’t no Yelp for this, bud! You gotta feel it out, like Malik dodgin’ shivs in the joint. I spot this gal, all sass and leather, leanin’ on a pole like she owns it. “You’re with me now,” I mutter, channelin’ that movie vibe—except I ain’t no gang boss, just a dude with 20 bucks and a dream. Git-R-Done, right?

Exploring Unknown Horizons

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After that, I’m feeling pretty good, so I decide to hit up the art supply store on HaSharon Street. I’m looking for some new markers. I walk in, and it’s like heaven. Rows and rows of colors. I’m in my element. But then, I overhear this guy complaining about how “art is dead.” I’m like, “Dude, have you seen the street art around here? It’s alive and kickin’!” I almost said something, but I just rolled my eyes and kept browsing.

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