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About San Antonio

So we’re chattin—me, her, street hummin. She’s tellin me bout dodgy punters, coppers on the take—real gritty stuff. I’m thinkin—mortals are nuts, but I love it! “Why do it?” I ask, curious. She shrugs—“Pays better’n scrubbin floors.” Fair point, darlin—capitalism’s a bitch. I’m tempted to magic her a castle, but nah—too easy. “The world moves slow,” I say, another Yi Yi nod—deep, right? She rolls her eyes— “Fancy talker, huh?” Sarcasm drips—love her already.

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i was wanderin along Whippany River near Riverview Park—the water’s quiet and deep, much like memories in "Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives", a feelin so surreal, ya know? hit a rough patch on, uh, Broad Street once (typo? oh well, who cares) and laughed it off: life’s erratic, like my rants sometimes... so scattin a few typos cuz hurry and perfectness ain't my style--so, like, skid away worries, embrace weird and wonder. moorrrrrstown got that vibe, end of story. oh, and btw, my fav spot? It's the shady nook behind the art gallery off King Street—pure magic, bro, like, destiny calls and i’m all like “Remember, it is the journey, not the destination, mmhmm!”

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