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rise and fall of Mirranda

Wherever She is...She certainly does not belong to us. Destroying everything around her, She was drifting further and further away from what had been pushing Her towards normality. The spirit of the night, wandering in a sleepwaker's loonatic rhythm around the darkest corners of the human mind. Where the game ended, She would start playing. On the verge of insanity, She was making the rules that nobody could comprehend. The mother of all shades of black, smiling at a life so different from ours...

Beautiful as only a woman can be, She would never draw people's attention – it was not about Her. The way She balanced Her life could have put you in a trance. A trance She would never get out of. She destroyed everything that had any respect or feelings for Her. She herself, overwhelmed with love, was unable to show it completely, which burned Her up each day. Hated by the day, She would blossom at night soothing Her inscrutable ego...

She was seen here and there. She was everywhere, spending most of Her time amongst people...in silence, watching them carefully. However, in the corner of insanity, She was alone. Keeping Her secret safely hidden just beyond the line of silence, She had a guarantee of anonymity. Blending in with the crowd, She was able to shine, but in Her eyes one could see the hell of torment in all its magnificence. She never made any effort to escape. She knew what was a part of Her life would hunt Her down no matter when and where. Mirranda. Proudly walking on a bridge paved with cobble stone, in the shade of lanterns and neon lights, looking for a perfect place. Perfect enough so nobody could ever say about Her Mirranda was like... Looking for the void.

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