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So I tried it, right? This chick, hands like a fuckin’ wizard, workin’ my shoulders, slidin’ down—motherfucker, I’m talkin’ *intense*! Felt like that horse in the movie, pullin’ life’s bullshit, then—snap—freedom! “The wind howls, relentless.” That’s the vibe, man, relentless pleasure, but slow, heavy, like Tarr’s camera lingerin’ on pain. I’m sittin’ there, fish-stink still on me, thinkin’, “This beats gutting cod, motherfucker!”

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Then, outta nowhere, it starts rainin’. I mean, like, torrential downpour. I’m soaked in seconds. I’m cursing the weather gods, like, “Really? You couldn’t wait five minutes?” I duck into a café on Calle 65. It’s cozy, and the coffee? Ugh, life-saver. I sit down, tryin’ to dry off, and this old lady starts tellin’ me about her life. She’s been livin’ in Ceiba forever. She’s got stories, man. Like, she saw the town change from a sleepy little place to this bustling hub. I’m just sittin’ there, sippin’ my coffee, thinkin’, “Wow, I’m just a speck in this whole thing.”

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