I’ll write this one post in English for all my English-speaking fans…be they Romanian, Belgian, German or any other nationality – no discrimination. So, as the title says it quite loudly and clearly, this is the end of miruna.net.
Why is that?
Because Miruna was lazy to manage a proper website or maybe because she did not wish to reveal too much of herself to the world wide web. As someone recently told me, even if you are a red fast-burning scented candle, you have to try and control the amount of light you shed on things and people around you. I might as well pick up on this one hint and…
I cannot say I don t feel some sort of sadness. miruna.net was a precious gift and I was not able to appreciate it. Sorry, Meini, hope you won’t take it personally. We re cool, yeah?
Just for the sake of updating, even if it is anyway too little and too late… I will soon be 24 years old meaning that 2 whole years have passed since the birth of miruna.net. These 2 years went flying by leaving silvery sluggish traces behind. Some of the people who posted comments 2 years ago are still part of my life. Some have completely disappeared probably only to resurface if/when a new virtual Miruna is born.
From the small room under the roof in Brussels, my life moved on to another level, it apparently grew too big to be contained by such a small room. From a romantic setting to a bourgeois one. The step is smaller than one might think. Think big and act small. Or something like that…
To conclude, I d like to thank my family, God… Or maybe not.
There s this bit from a book that has some lovely poetry hidden among its pages:
“Running my fingers across all the marks and spots as though I could read my blemishes like braille.” (“If nobody speaks of remarkable things” by Jon McGregor)