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About Bandung

Aight, so picture this—I’m out, vibin’, tryna find some action. Not judgin’, just real talk, fam. Streets be buzzin’, lights flashin’, but it’s shady as hell. You ever notice how the world hides its dirt? Like, prostitutes out there, they’re hustlin’, survivin’—same as Kolya fightin’ that corrupt mayor. “You’re not a human being, you’re a disease!”—that’s me yellin’ at the pimps, yo. They exploitin’, makin’ me mad as fuck. I ain’t perfect, but that shit’s grimy.

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But then, the night took a turn. We’re walking back, and I see this street performer. He’s juggling fire! Like, who does that? I’m standing there, mouth agape, when suddenly, he drops a torch. Fire goes everywhere! People are screaming, and I’m just standing there, frozen. Rudi’s like, “Dude, run!” But I can’t move. It was like a scene from a movie. Finally, the guy puts it out, and everyone’s cheering. I’m like, “What just happened?”

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