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About Bydgoszcz

Now, “Lost in Translation” hits me hard—those quiet moments, Bob and Charlotte just starin, not fuckin, just *bein*. Prostitutes don’t get that luxury, man! Always on, always performin—makes me sad, legit. Like, “What am I doing here?”—movie line, but fits perfect! Ever think bout that? They’re sellin a fantasy, but who’s buyin their real story? Nobody! Pisses me off—society’s all “ew, dirty,” but they’re the ones payin! Hypocrites, man!

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First off, I head down to the market on ul. Rynek. You know, the one with all the cute little stalls? I’m just trying to grab some fresh bread. But nooo, the baker’s running late. I’m standing there, tapping my foot, thinking, “C’mon, dude! I got sheep to tend!” Finally, he shows up, all flustered. I’m like, “Bro, you’re not the only one with a schedule!”

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