Author's Note: Although Stevenson described the duality of man being two actual seperate beings, I respectfully disagree with that man is just one, but they precieve themselves differently to different groups of people.
She walks through the halls with confidence, caution, charmisticness and calamity. Her hair flows over one shoulder as it tangles on the other. The perk of her lips spoke a thousand words in a million languages. At one end, she spoke with words that could be preached; at the other they could butcher the hearts of whom she spoke them about. Some know her from the numbness of her soul, while she warms the day of some with her sweet smile. She could silence a room with increbile presence, or be the silence. Class to class, day to day, weekend to weekend. Her only constant was her changes. If she wasn't close, she was most certainly far. Only from a distance could you notice the distant personalities. If someone would notice, they would keep it to themselve; a person of many personalities is on of power. She branched out to the unwanted, adored and misunderstood. She knew everything about everyone, even though no one knew who she was. But that's how she loved it, the edge was hers. No one wants to be a loser, and-with the world on her side-how couldn't she be victorious? She knew the when to cry, or laugh, or ignore, or mumble. She had hundreds of personalities and they all worked with and against to balance out the perfection of her duality. She isn't alone, she is everyone and everyone has that she within. The desire to fit in and alter your ways to match. Lonliness kills, and strength lies within numbers; without similarity, you remain defenseless- no one to back you up. The difference within one balances and keeps the sanity together. Duality truly lies within one, but they change when other ones come into play.
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