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About Dusseldorf

This one time, I’m chattin’ her up, she’s all, “What you want, boo?” I’m stutterin’, actin’ dumb, and she hits me with, “Time’s money, let’s go.” Cold as ice! Made me mad, like—bitch, I’m Drake, respect the name! But also, lowkey, I was hyped—she owned it. Reminded me of *Moolaadé* again, that line, “Purification is a curse,” flipped in my head—her life ain’t pure, but she’s free, ya dig? Got me emotional—happy she’s real, pissed at the game she’s stuck in.

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Cham's got layers, like past lives in a neverending loop. You might feel the gentle pulse of history in each street corner. I mean, who knew a small town could scream so much wisdom? Crazy, rightyy? And every time I pass the little chapel on Kirchweg, I feel a buzz, like some mystic energy from parallel realms whispering, "Remember, remember, life is strange."

Traditional grave visiting ceremony of Cham people