“I’m really doom-pilled right now. I don’t like myself. I don’t like anything. I don’t like my body, I don’t like what I eat, I don’t like buying things, I don’t like reading things, I don’t like working, I don’t like writing, I don’t like New York, I don’t like it here—” “You have to stop,” Poppy says. “You’re out of control. Are you feeling too sad?” Across the street, someone’s getting proposed to near the Lululemon. “Like that,” I say. “Don’t you hate that? Doesn’t that make you wanna—wanna just freak out?” Poppy looks at the engaged couple. The girl is holding one hand over her mouth and
...more
