I don’t chase anyone anymore. Wanna walk out of my life, there’s the door. Hell, I’ll even hold it for you.
I hope the exit is joyful and I hope never to return.
― The last words of Frida Kahlo written in her diary (July 1954)
I want a trouble-maker for a lover, blood spiller, blood drinker, a heart of flame, who quarrels with the sky and fights with fate, who burns like fire on the rushing sea.