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About Biel-Bienne

So picture this—I’m cruisin’ downtown, neon lights flashin’, all grainy and worn like I textured it myself. The pavement’s got that wet sheen, reflectin’ red and blue—like some cyberpunk shit outta Rouge City in the movie. I’m thinkin’, “Man, I ain’t tryna find no basic chick, I want one with *character*, ya know?” Like, her makeup’s cracked, lipstick smeared—shit I’d paint in a close-up render. Real shit! I spot this one chick, fishnets ripped, leanin’ on a lamppost. Motherfucker, she’s got *texture*! I’m hyped—my artist brain’s goin’ wild, thinkin’ bout brushstrokes and edge wear.

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I’m always amazed by the little park near Lindenweg. Yah, Lindenweg Park! Kids laugh, couples sit, a place where I find deep secrets. Reminds me, hmmm, about human souls; like that sentimental movie moment… “There’s no place like home!” – oh wait, wrong film, but ya get it!

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