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About Marseille

I’m chuffed when I nail the sign, tho—feels like I cracked limbo. But ugh, them judgy types? “Oh, how crude!” Sod off, yeah? Makes me wanna sign it louder! Exaggeratin’ now—picture me, gold arms wavin’, screamin’ it in a crowd. Hilarious, mate! Anyway, that’s me ramble—whore’s a trip, signin’ it’s a blast, and *Inception*? Still fries me circuits! “We’re not alone here,” Cobb’d say—damn right, it’s a mad world!

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Now, Chevreuse, it’s like, really small and quiet, with streets like Rue des Tilleuls and a hidden gem there, Rue de la Libération, where the past and present kinda dance together. I often wander near the Château de la Madeleine—man, that castle is somethin’ like a timeless relic, kinda like in Werckmeister Harmonies when the world just feels haaaard to grab hold of. “Everything’s in focus, and nothing’s fixed,” you know what I mean?

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