It’s winter solstice today- the apex of the cold and dying, and the beginning of the rejuvenation - a rebirth. But for now, the dying is all we have. The snow might be a happy distraction from it all in some places, but here in California, the bare trees shiver with the winds as the leaves lie browning on the ground.
But it doesn’t matter really; Christmas is right around the corner, and my house is in full on Holiday mode. I walk around the house singing Joy to the World as my brother trips over the decorative red ribbon I’ve drapped artistically around my room. We have intense competitions (like coin flipping) to see who gets to lick the cake-dough-spatula (which, for the record, might be my favorite food in the world). The neighbors’ loud christmas music is translates through the walls into a soft background track, and the world is just a feel-good Holiday movie. Despite the dead world outside.
Everyone is happy during Christmas time - even those hiding behind their Scrooge personas, but I find it to be fake. It is a happiness that is created by the holiday atmosphere, and this expectation of joy that is laid on this time of the year. This happiness is like a sugar high, lasts a few hours (days in this case), and then your dropped back into the mundanity of your normal life.
Nobody wants to talk about the gradually wearing away of this energy when they’re full of it. Except for eyes. Eyes just don’t seem to be fooled. They are the windows to the soul - an overused Bible verse (Matthew 6:22), but a hugely significant one.
Eyes are the windows to the soul - they are the medium through which we can communicate our innermost feelings when our minds and our mouths simply won’t allow it. Even as lies flow out of your being like water, eyes shimmer with the truth.
None of us are really brave enough to bare our souls, and pour out our raw emotions (with the exception of poets, though they do have their paper to hide behind). None of us can really walk around, being absolutely genuine. It’s a human thing, a societal thing - all our lives we’ve been told to cover up: clothes, etiquette, and the whole “Silence is golden” thing. We live in a world of lying to be perfect, but eyes just don’t conform to its rules, no matter how compliant the rest of the body is.
Eyes tell the truth about a person when all of their body is trying its hardest to cover it up. Eyes have never conformed to the rules of society - when one is happy, they are happy; when one is sad, they are sad; when one is conflicted, they are conflicted. They bow to no expectations, and listen to no societal rules. Eyes are the original rebels, and they help keep us from over-complicating the world.
Behind your frequent and hollow laughs, your sing-song voice, and your silly puns, your dead eyes are sending out an SOS.
Your ragged clothes, and raspy voice combined with that angry expression on your face don’t scare me, because that haunted look in your eyes tells me that you’re scared yourself.
You bow your head, arrange your face into a sombre expression, and start talking again. More sternly this time. But there’s something there that wasn’t before; a jovial spark in your hawk-like eyes that tells me that the phone call that you just took gave you the best news of your life.
But it doesn’t matter really; Christmas is right around the corner, and my house is in full on Holiday mode. I walk around the house singing Joy to the World as my brother trips over the decorative red ribbon I’ve drapped artistically around my room. We have intense competitions (like coin flipping) to see who gets to lick the cake-dough-spatula (which, for the record, might be my favorite food in the world). The neighbors’ loud christmas music is translates through the walls into a soft background track, and the world is just a feel-good Holiday movie. Despite the dead world outside.
Everyone is happy during Christmas time - even those hiding behind their Scrooge personas, but I find it to be fake. It is a happiness that is created by the holiday atmosphere, and this expectation of joy that is laid on this time of the year. This happiness is like a sugar high, lasts a few hours (days in this case), and then your dropped back into the mundanity of your normal life.
Nobody wants to talk about the gradually wearing away of this energy when they’re full of it. Except for eyes. Eyes just don’t seem to be fooled. They are the windows to the soul - an overused Bible verse (Matthew 6:22), but a hugely significant one.
None of us are really brave enough to bare our souls, and pour out our raw emotions (with the exception of poets, though they do have their paper to hide behind). None of us can really walk around, being absolutely genuine. It’s a human thing, a societal thing - all our lives we’ve been told to cover up: clothes, etiquette, and the whole “Silence is golden” thing. We live in a world of lying to be perfect, but eyes just don’t conform to its rules, no matter how compliant the rest of the body is.
Eyes tell the truth about a person when all of their body is trying its hardest to cover it up. Eyes have never conformed to the rules of society - when one is happy, they are happy; when one is sad, they are sad; when one is conflicted, they are conflicted. They bow to no expectations, and listen to no societal rules. Eyes are the original rebels, and they help keep us from over-complicating the world.
Behind your frequent and hollow laughs, your sing-song voice, and your silly puns, your dead eyes are sending out an SOS.
Your ragged clothes, and raspy voice combined with that angry expression on your face don’t scare me, because that haunted look in your eyes tells me that you’re scared yourself.
You bow your head, arrange your face into a sombre expression, and start talking again. More sternly this time. But there’s something there that wasn’t before; a jovial spark in your hawk-like eyes that tells me that the phone call that you just took gave you the best news of your life.
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