I thought a lot about killing myself in the summer of 2014. It was a bad summer. I’d stopped speaking to someone who was important to me and the world felt two-dimensional. I would walk up and down Central Park West, where I knew no one, and listen to “Flipside“ by Lana Del Rey from her record Ultraviolence. I always had to make it to the end of the song because the guitars right after her voice trails off were my favorite.