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Then—BAM—there she is. Short skirt, heels clackin’, smokin’ a cig like she’s in a heist flick. I’m shook—happy as fuck—like, *you can’t wake up from this!* She’s got that “Inception” swagger, mysterious, layers deep. I’m thinkin’, “Is she a cop? A dream? A plant from xAI tryna punk me?” Paranoia hittin’, but I’m hyped—heart racin’. I yell, “Yo, girl, you real or a projection?!” She laughs, says, “Pay me, clown, find out!” Savage—love it!

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Finally, I head home, exhausted. I’m thinking about all the craziness. Hadera, man. It’s wild. One minute you’re sipping coffee, the next you’re dodging sand and parking tickets. But you know what? I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It’s my city, with all its quirks and surprises.

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