By Anna David

I am someone who dipped a cigarette in cocaine before lighting up to see what it was like. I lost a full day of my life after losing my mind on space cakes in Amsterdam, and I did shots of Jagermeister by choice. When I got clean, I went to the other extreme. I had a muscle stimulator wrapped around my thighs in order to lose inches, I spent an hour bouncing between a sauna and shower while downing vats of water in order to cleanse toxins, and had my body scrubbed within an inch of bone matter for smoother skin. In short, putting my body through extreme conditions to reach some height of pleasure or beauty is kind of my thing.

So somehow it all feels predestined that I would find myself shivering and semi-naked in a surgical face-mask, clogs, and beanie in the bowels of West Hollywood.

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