Black box: a device, system or object which can be viewed in terms of its input, output, and characteristics without any knowledge of its internal workings. Its implementation is opaque. Almost anything might be referred to as a black box: a transistor, an algorithm, or the human brain. 

    Though, perhaps biased from my passion in anatomy and medicine, I believe the human brain to be the most interesting black box of all. I, for example, am a walking contradiction. No doubt due to the inner mechanisms of my mind. 

The small town girl with the big city fire glazing in her eyes.
The indie hipster hidden inside of mainstream media. 
Lips sipping martinis from rooftop bars, but do not shy away to shotgun a beer.
I am the simplicity of a piano, and the electricity of a guitar. 
My mouth speaks it’s mind, yet still I find myself losing the emotions I long to express. 
Eyes glancing through Cosmopolitan, only to then read Emerson.  Ambitious drive competing with an attitude that can quickly fall to lackluster.
I am controlled and wild. 
The philosopher inside of the scientist. 
Classy and tacky, brazen and reserved, conservative and liberal; but amongst all of these things, most importantly I am me. Individuality is beautiful.

Welcome to my black box; may it be everything you expect. Or perhaps, nothing you expect. Either way, may you be entranced.