Some nod at the new era; others prefer the old version. Some are quite fond of my punk rock self, and there are those who like to remember me as a sweet, sweet thing... Thing is: my name is not Jane, and I don't think the queen needs to be saved. Sorry to disappoint you, but my being carries the best and the worst, from beauty to beast, yellowish scent of peace and rage, all above board. Too much for such a skinny body to bear, you might say. A secret? I just happen to change layers every now and again. They lie underneath my skin, and quite often get me itchy with lust or disdain, bloodthirsty... Insanity? Immediacy. Take your pick, for what you're looking at today may be upside down or backwards tomorrow. Still, you'll always look at me in astonishment, flabbergasted, as though expecting some new colour to show up in the rainbow, as if longing for what you shall never be able to see... You see, that's the one funny thing about people: you make a white rabbit come out of an empty hat and all they will ever want is for it to be pink... Thanks to me, my magic is more than enough to set me free.
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