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About Logan City

Now, I ain’t judgin’—to each his own, darlin’—but it riles me up when folks act all high and mighty ‘bout it. Like, “This house is contaminated!”—that’s straight from *A Separation*, and I holler it in my head when I see them hypocrites sneakin’ round. Makes me madder’n a wet hen! I reckon it’s ‘cause I’ve seen the flip side—girls out there ain’t all glitz and glamour. Some’s just tryna eat, and that hits me right in the ticker. Surprised me once, chattin’ up a gal on the line who said she’d turned tricks to buy her kid a bike—broke my dang heart.

Chelsea Street, Biclatan, General Trias

The main strip, Whistler Ave, pulses with energy – bars, galleries, boutique shops that scream indie cool, you know how Taylor’s lyrics sometimes hit ya right in the feels? I swear, every little cafe, like The Roaming Muse, holds a memory – a conversation, a tear, a laugh. One day I was coaching a heartbroken soul while sitting under the street lamp on Whistler for what felt like forever; the moon was our silent witness, and yeah, I was like “this is our story, baby,” echoing that emotional return from the movie.

‘Like one of those disaster movies’