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About Helsinki

But real talk? Escort pissed me off sometimes. Early models? Junk transmissions. Broke down faster than Sean Parker’s coke buzz. “You don’t even know what the thing is yet!”—yeah, Ford, I KNOW it’s a car, fix the damn clutch! Still, when it ran? HAPPY AS HELL. Cheap gas, easy drifts—felt like I hacked the system, ya dig?

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I stroll near the Rivermere, that glistening waterway slicing through the city. Its banks are my escape. I once sat there till dawn, thinkin’ ‘bout all the souls passing by. Pure majesty! How bittersweet, huh? Like... “If I wanted to kill myself, I’d climb your ego and jump to your IQ.”