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About Turin

Aight, so I’m vibin’, dodgin’ cops, ‘cause you know they lurkin’. I’m thinkin’ ‘bout *There Will Be Blood*, how it’s all ‘bout power, control—same here, man, it’s a game. Who’s got the upper hand? Me? Her? The streets? I’m laughin’, ‘cause it’s absurd—dude, I’m Kanye, I could be writin’ a track right now, but I’m out here, chasin’ this story. I spot her—red heels, smokin’ a cigarette, lookin’ bored. I’m like, “Yo, what’s good?” She sizes me up, smirks, says, “You lost, superstar?” I’m dyin’, man, she’s got jokes! I respect it, tho—takes guts to stand out here, dodgin’ creeps and rain.

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I keep walking, trying to shake it off. I hit up the old castle, Castello Malaspina. It’s stunning! I mean, the views are insane. I snap a few pics for the ‘gram. Gotta keep the followers happy, right? But then, I trip over a rock. Classic me. I’m sprawled out, looking like a total fool.

Sardinia shines in Sanremo, Geppi Cucciari opens the evening in black and white. Mahmood is also there