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About Los Angeles

Personal quirk—I’d prolly overthink it, like, “What’s her story? She paintin her own canvas?” Exaggeratin for fun, maybe she’s a secret outlaw queen—runnin the show, “I’ll kill ya myself,” she’d whisper, all sultry-like. Hella intense! But real talk, it’s just business—supply, demand, happy little transactions. Still, somethin bout it feels raw, human—kinda beautiful, kinda sad, like Jesse’s last breath in that flick.

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The neighborhoods are a riot too. Eastside’s full of colorful murals and midnight parties. West End's more chill, with quirky bakeries that smell so freakin’ good, I often sneak in for an extra donut. Remember, "How happy is the blithesome day?" I keep that on loop in my head.

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