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She never committed to what fate did to her; desperately disdained to acknowledge pain and agony, and never ceased to whatever came her way. Call it the madness of nature or the jest of a witty god, but I'm sure that at the struggles of an untainted soul, the one who observes laughs through his rotten lips. It knows that the only thing one can always bet on is to hear the rustling flap of her uneven wings in darkness toward the light. #notes