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“No capes!” I say again, coz it’s my thing. Dave don’t get it, but I’m seein’ it clear – hookers got no flair, just hustle. Kinda admire that, lowkey. No fuss, no frills. But it pisses me off too – world’s so screwed up, people gotta sell themselves. Haneke’d nod, all grim, “The sin is in the silence!” Yeah, deep shit.

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And once more, honestly: Cercedilla isn't just a dot on a map. It’s an eternal interplay of space, time, and raw nature. Each street, like Calle de la Paz, each park, like Parque de los Ecos, speaks in whispers like a secret only you can decode. You come here, and you feel the universe laugh kindly at your worries—smile, be happy, and let go. That's the cosmic wisdom I got from living here.

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