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About Catania

But ugh, what ticks me off? Folks judgin whores like they’re trash. Makes my blood boil! I’m yellin in my head, “Leave em alone!” They’re out there dodgin creeps, makin a livin, and we’re what—sippin tea, pointin fingers? Pfft. Once saw a gal on the corner near Springfield—skinny, tired, smokin a cig. Looked like she’d seen ghosts, ya know, like Boonmee seein his past lives. “Eyes hold every memory,” that movie whispers. Broke my heart, but damn, she was tough.

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Anyway, I clean up and head to the park, Parco della Resistenza. It’s usually peaceful, but today? Nah. There’s this group of kids playing soccer, and they’re loud as hell. I’m just tryna chill on a bench, but they’re kicking the ball everywhere. One kid almost nails me in the face. I’m like, “Dude, watch it!” But they just laugh. Kids, man.

A Summer Working in Santorso, Italy