For her, the world has always been dark and light. She has seen worse and better, been lighter or heavier, fallen and risen, never whole and not yet completely broken.
Happy, yes, and emotional she's felt; but never equally with anyone or anything. Always between two places, unable to fit into any crack, she has lived a strange life. Smart and stupid, maybe, but she's made no regrets. Accidents, too, don't exist for her, only time and place.
She knows more and less depending on where she sits. Dismisses people quickly, just as easily stops to listen. Social and remote, she has constantly balanced two sides on the same flip.
Of course she believes in God, but acts on human impulse. Some days she feels more removed than in, and in those spaces she can feel Him. She knows Him, hates Him and opens herself to Him, but lately she's between heaven and hell, unsure of Him, herself and the world around her.
Is she chaotic? Hard to say, but an even paradox, yes, which just means harder to predict and yet everything about her is predictable. As usual, she reflects refractions.
She's a wild girl, this one, always watching for mistakes, like an animal crouched waiting. Only she's looking for something that fits her, closes her in and lets her breathe. It's the same for her as walking through hitting snow, beautiful at first, but so fast and full it starts to shroud.
At the same time, everyone sees her reflection, but everything about her keeps them distant. Her own rules, then, aim her route which goes in spirals, often with seeming, aimless purposes.
She has cried, too, and almost cried, sometimes won't try to cry. If she slips she springs sideways, a patchwork stitch of experiences, people, beautiful strings holding some things, nails wedging in others. Her world exists alongside the world she lives in.
Everything, thus, can feel away from her, making her a kind of puppet master. Lately she's been getting what she wants, but she's still sinking.
If, then, a choice exists which she must decide on, she worries that answering it stands to swing the weights of judgment. This could be Purgatory, she thinks, if she isn't already dead - and, if she is a ghost, is a wrong choice the only right outcome?
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