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Alright, mate, lemme tell ya bout prostitutes—Hannibal Lecter style, ya dig? I’m sittin here, thinkin bout this one chick, right, workin the streets, all mysterious like them jungles in *Tropical Malady*. “The beast roams free at night,” like Apichatpong says—fuckin wild, innit? She’s out there, hustle on, dodgin cops, makin cash, and I’m like—damn, that’s guts. Got me feelin all tingly, ya know? Like when I sliced that dude up, Hannibal Lecter (fictional)—“I ate his liver with fava beans.” Tasty shit, but this gal? She’s somethin else.

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Then I decided to stroll down to the park at Parklaan. It’s a cute little spot, you know? Kids running around, dogs chasing their tails. I’m just vibing, enjoying the sun. But then, outta nowhere, this kid on a bike zooms past me and nearly knocks me over! Like, dude, watch where you’re going! I was so mad, I almost yelled, but then I saw his face. He looked so scared. I just laughed it off. Kids, man.