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What gets me proper mad, though? The hypocrisy. Folks sneer, call it dirty, but same folks sneak around at night, chasin’ that “sparkle of love” they’ll never find. Makes my blood boil! Like, own it or shut it, yeah? Anyway, back to the streets—there’s this one lass, red lipstick bright as a ruby, leanin’ against a lamppost. She’s got that *Moulin Rouge* magic, all charm and danger, like Satine herself singin’ “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend.” I’m half in love, half terrified, thinkin’, *Blimey, she could ruin me.*

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After that chaos, I decide to chill at the park near the old mosque. It’s peaceful there, ya know? Kids playin’, families picnicking. I sit on a bench, just takin’ it all in. Then, I spot this old man, Yossi, feedin’ pigeons. He’s got this whole routine. I swear, those birds know him by name. I chuckle, thinkin’, “Man, if only I had that kinda dedication.”

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