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About Ioannina

But yo, pisses me off sometimes—people judgin’ escorts quick. Like, chill, not all’s dirty! Some just drive ya, guard ya—others, sure, they… y’know. Hate leads to sufferin’, and I ain’t sufferin’ over that noise. *Amour* taught me—love’s weird, fragile. Escortin’s the same—someone’s holdin’ your hand, real or paid, til “it’s all over,” like Georges whispers in the flick.

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Alexandridou, Alexandra-Fani, The early black-figured pottery of Attika in context (ca. BCE) / by Alexandra Alexandridou.

So, I’m walking down the waterfront, trying to shake off the coffee smell. The view is stunning, though. The sea is all sparkly, and I’m like, “Okay, maybe today won’t suck.” But then, I see this group of tourists. They’re lost, obviously. One guy’s holding a map upside down. I can’t help but laugh. I mean, come on! It’s not that hard, right?