Gianna Ittiri Whore ❤️

About Milan

Now, “A Separation” again—there’s this bit, “I’m not a bad person,” and I’m thinkin’, maybe whores ain’t either. Maybe they’re just tryna eat, pay bills, survive. Ever think that? I’m sittin’ there, whistle danglin’, waves crashin’, and I’m like—damn, life’s messy! One time, I saw this gal, total pro vibe, hangin’ by the pier. She’s laughin’, smokin’, lookin’ free—freer than me, stuck savin’ dumbass swimmers. Made me jealous, swear to God!

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I hit the streets of Ittiri, and it was like the universe was throwing me curveballs left and right. I mean, I’m just trying to do my thing, you know? Mourning, being all solemn, and then BAM! I’m walking down Via Roma, and I see this old dude selling pastries. Like, who can resist a good pasticciotto? Not me! So, I grab one, and it’s like a hug in my mouth. But then, I spill coffee all over my black mourning attire. Classic me, right?

Male of E. dentata amseli Alfken. Sardinia, Ittiri (Photo by P. Niolu).