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Yo, can you smell what The Rock is cookin’? Raised eyebrow, “Know your role.” I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout findin’ a prostitute, man, and it’s wild! Like, you ever see *The Turin Horse*? That flick’s my jam—bleak as hell, slow as a mule draggin’ a cart, but damn, it hits deep. “The wind’s blowin’, it’s over,” right? That’s the vibe I’m feelin’ when I’m cruisin’ the streets, lookin’ for that action.

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I remember one crazy day, walkin' past tt he old library near Riverbend. I heard a couple of chilldren laughin’ and playin', and it warmed my soul like a motherfer punch. It ain’t all roses, though. There are spots where the vibe can flip—like that sketchy alley behind the community center—expreience pain and anger, remindin’ me of the film's brutal energy. Hell, sometimes I get so mad, I wanna scream “Motherfer!” at the sky, just like in those movie scenes.

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