For today’s prompt I picked “Opposites” or “Paradoxes” depending on preference. For something I like to babble and theorize about quite a bit I had an amazingly hard time with this prompt but I’m going to assume it’s mostly because Crystal and I stopped doing them for awhile as we were both consumed with stuff during April.

Oh and by the way, Jo has recently joined our little prompt writing circle. *dances around happily* I’ll update this post as soon as they get their’s up so you can read and enjoy theirs as well.

[Edit: You can now find Crystalina's response here.]
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This way and that.
Here and then there.
Right or wrong or left or right or upside down!
Turn and turn and turn again.
Walk one way and another and another and another until you’ve no place left to turn.
Of everything and nothing.
The paradox of incomplete completion.
A perfect imperfection.
Equal and not so.
Feeling and numb
Reaching and falling.
Failing and flying.
Singing and seeing and loving and being!
Walking and running.
Turning and burning.
One thing of all things and all things of no thing.
Opposite and opposite and same.
One, none, all.

For the prompt: Eyes. :)

Here I sit- inside my head.

I also just, dance, sing, speak, and philosophize, but mostly I just sit and look out these windows of mine, the windows to my soul. They are so like a two way mirror as I can out yet no one sees in.

I’m stuck in here- sometimes regrettably.

There are things this sitting version of me would like to say that my physical mouth often tries to hold back. My brain functions as an organ. It does what it does with little prompting on my part but instead by the will of neurons, the paths they take and the ways they censor my actions often formed by society.

My mind on the other hand is not an organ but a concept, the shadow of my soul that seeps through into my being and as such it’s free from all that civilized nonsense. I control it. I choose what I accept and what I don’t, what I believe and what I desire.

Though my mouth may censor things at the command of my brain, my mind censors nothing and my soul, that which my mind shapes over the course of many lifetimes, takes on the brunt force of all possible thoughts.

Sometimes I feel trapped behind these eyes of mine. There are things I see and hear, beliefs and theories I develop that I have no way of explaining and even if I did they may only have context deep within the confines of my skull.

Here I sit- looking out at the world. Sometimes I cry out, hoping someone will see me behind these eyes of mine but more often than not I am merely the hazel observer. The bit of light that glints in the mirror or compels people to trust me, telling them that there is something in there abet hidden carefully under layers of flesh.

Perhaps this is my soul- this conscious piece of my mind that observes everything.

Perhaps it is my imagination- or a figment thereof.

The world behind my eyes is vast. Filled with words, images, stories, knowledge, memories, and experiences- all of which I hold dear. Here I sit with them all swirling to and fro around me like the roughest of tides. like the roughest of tides.

Here I sit watching and waiting. Uncensored and evolving.

Here I sit behind my hazel windows.

Here I shall always sit.

Can you see me?