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About Phoenix

So, I’m thinkin bout my fave flick, *Stories We Tell*, that Sarah Polley gem – “Who’s your daddy?” she asks, all deep and twisty. Made me wonder bout these lasses on the street, y’know? Who’s their story? Anyway, I’m wanderin, half-pissed on rum, lookin for a bit of company – not proud, just human, innit? Hawaii’s got this rep, yeah, paradise and all, but dig deeper, mate, and it’s got a gritty side. Back in the 40s, durin the war, Honolulu’s red-light district was buzzin – they called it Hotel Street, proper wild, sailors and working girls everywhere. Little known fact: the coppers let it slide cos it kept the lads in line. History, eh? Blew my mind when I read that.

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Some locals swear that the city’s energy is healing. Others call it cursed. Me? I say it’s a kaleidoscope of oddities. I once spent an entire day walking round Old Town, talking to random peeps. They were as nutty as a fruitcake, and I nearly lost my mind – “What a sodding circus, right?” Their stories were like shards of shattered dreams, and I found kinda beauty in it.

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