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About New York City

Hit up Starry, she’s chill. “What’s your dybbuk, dude?” I ask—Coen vibes, y’know? She laughs, says, “No ghosts, just ass.” Fair. Meet her downtown, sketchy alley—smells like piss and regret. She’s hot tho, damn, surprised me! Thought she’d be all crusty, nope—fresh, sassy, total babe. “You’re not from here,” she says. Duh, I’m green, bitch! We vibe, tho—she’s cool, tells me bout her pimp. Asshole takes half her cash—makes me mad. Wanna zap him with my ray gun, pow!

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It is the most horrible place you ever want to be in your life there's prostitutes all through the place drug dealers very unsafe the staff I think is part of.

Not gonna lie, I get mad at times when people rush around like crazy. You know? It tickles my nerves, like when someone says, “But is it really a separation of souls or just tension?” and I'm like, "I'm not doing anything wrong, oh dear!" All that mess makes me hyperaware; like every muscle in my body whispers secrets.

Snakes — yes, snakes — are coming to this Northern Virginia mall