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But dang, the risks! Cops, creeps, STDs—makes me wanna holler. “Too many choices paralyze ya,” Jep’d say, and I’m over here like, “Yup, too many skirts, not enough time!” Typin’ fast now—prolly screwed up thirteen words alredy. Whoops, there’s one! Ha! Anyhow, you gotta be sharp, not some dumbass stumblin’ into a sting op. Fool me once, right?

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After that, I’m feeling all hyped, so I decide to hit up the local art scene. I stroll down Via Garibaldi, and there’s this pop-up gallery. I walk in, and it’s like stepping into another world. Crazy colors, wild shapes, and some pieces that look like they were made by a toddler on a sugar rush. I’m laughing, thinking, “I could’ve done that!” But then I see this one piece that hits me hard. It’s a painting of the Tiber River, but it’s all twisted and dark. It’s like the artist captured the soul of Cesano. I’m standing there, feeling all the feels.

Figure 5: Cesano geothermal field. a) Isobaths of the potential...