She pulled the pink ribbon from her hair and began to hate her life.
Anton Chekhov, "Late-Blooming Flowers" (1882)
She pulled the pink ribbon from her hair and began to hate her life.
Anton Chekhov, "Late-Blooming Flowers" (1882)
I promise you, closed doors, bad energy, rejection, and shit that falls apart is actually the universe protecting you from people, paths, and places not meant for you.
