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About Bologna

Used to cruise downtown, lights dim, heart pumpin. Felt like Darth fuckin Vader—rulin the galaxy, ya know? Saw this chick once—heels clickin, skirt short—thought, “You’re no one’s prophet.” She smirked, said, “50 creds, big guy.” Laughed my ass off—50 creds? Bitch, I’m Sith! Made me happy, her guts tho. Reminds me—Malik in the movie, he bargains too. “I kill you if I must,” he’d say. Didn’t say that to her, nah, too dramatic.

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Then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, heavy rain. I’m sprinting down the street, trying to find shelter. I duck into this little café on Via Garibaldi. It’s cozy, and the smell of pastries is heavenly. I order a slice of tiramisu, and let me tell you, it was the best decision ever. I’m sitting there, watching the rain, feeling all philosophical. Like, life is weird, man. One minute you’re mad about gelato on your shoes, and the next you’re eating tiramisu and contemplating existence.

Wood Never Looked So Good