There’s no such thing as the perfect soulmate. If you meet someone and you think they’re perfect, you better run as fast as you can in the other direction. ‘Cos your soulmate is the person that pushes all your buttons, pisses you off on a regular basis, and makes you face your shit.
The patriarchy continues to try to crush my neck with heavy boots, cut off my life force, and take away my voice – even those who call themselves artists, you know who you are.
There is something comforting about being tied up. Like when you were a baby and your mother strapped you in the car seat. She wanted you to be safe. It was an act of love.
