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About Turin

So, yeah. Escort’s a gig. Some dude or chick. Hired to hang. Maybe more. Depends on the deal. Gets me thinking. Like in “Her”. “I’m yours. And not yours.” That line kills me. Same vibe here. You’re renting a moment. Not a soul. And that’s freaky. But cool too. I’m torn, man. Part of me’s like. Wow. Freedom to choose. Other part’s pissed. Why’s society so lonely? We need escorts? Damn.

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Next, I wander over to the old bridge, Ponte di San Rocco. It’s beautiful, man. The sun hits it just right. I’m snapping pics, feeling inspired. Then I see this old dude feeding the ducks. He’s got this huge bag of bread. I’m like, “Dude, save some for the rest of us!” But he just grins, like he’s in on some secret.

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