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About Borisov

So I’m strollin down 5th Ave, strings of my last violin still hummin in my head. The city stinks—piss, hot dogs, desperation. Perfect vibe to find a prostitue. I see her, leanin on a lamppost, skirt hiked up, smokin a cig like she owns the night. “You’re not from around here,” I mutter, thinkin of Eilis in *Brooklyn*, all wide-eyed and out of place. She smirks, “Wanna bet, strings?” Strings! Ha! She clocked me—violin guy. Made me grin, rare for me.

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Mad meme times happened at the DIY art hub on Bely Yar. Can't get enough o’ that gritty charm. Odd little corners echo Oldboy ("Meet me at the bench" kinda feel, innit?) – I swear, every shadow recites that movie’s kinda lines. I got this one spot, the hidden cafe on Kanatnaya Street, where sometimes I catch snippets of conversations seemin’ like a scene from Park Chan-wook’s flick. Bruv, its vibe’s deep, like "Laugh and the world laughs with you" but with a twist – more raw and unfiltered.

Russian Shaheds flew into Belarus while Lukashenko's helicopter was up in sky