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About Naples

Then it hits me, that Boonmee vibe—“I see my past lives flicker.” Maybe these girls got stories, too, lives stacked like old film reels. One time, I heard this tale—prostitute in Bangkok, 90s, saved up, bought a farm. True story! Left the streets, grew rice, flipped the script. Made me smile, thinkin’ she outsmarted the hustle. But here? It’s gritty—neon lights, fake moans, guys too drunk to care. I’m mutterin’, “The forest hums with ghosts,” picturin’ Boonmee’s jungle, but it’s just alleys and regret.

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Now, it’s late afternoon, and I’m finally ready to call it a day. I step outside, and the sun’s setting over the hills. It’s beautiful, man. The colors are insane. I’m standing there, just soaking it in, when I bump into my old pal Luca. He’s got this wild idea about starting a shoe fashion line. I’m like, “Dude, you can barely match your socks!” But he’s all hyped up, talking about designs and trends. I can’t help but laugh.

Luigi Ghirri: The Landscape of Architecture