Oxymoron

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  Oxymorons occur in sentences that have two word that contradict each other. In example: The soft fabric was rough. Or love is sorrowful. Those kinds of things. The book Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare haves a lot of oxymorons.
 
  Practical. Precision. Perfection. The three P's I can't be.
  My hand wavers over a portal before lightly touching it and it ripples in response.
  I stand up and walk over to my 'bed' a space I singled out for sleep only.
  The blanket was neatly folded and my pillow was flat like my butt.
  I know I should be sleeping, but I can't my mind won't let me. I am being watched.
  The place I call home is a fish bowl.
  Where I sleep can be seen what I do can be seen. Heck, if I wasn't smart enough, I would have left here and think I still wasn't being watched.
  Nevermind, the silence is peaceful for once.
  Maybe if I could finally close my eyes and not listen to the nothingness around me.
  The silence is maddening, but I can't stand sound either.
  I let my body float and sit cris cross apple sauce in thin air. Or is it no air? I can't tell anymore.
  Meditation could work.
  Maybe if this silence wasn't to loud I could think properly.
  Eyes closed I shut my senses and release myself to the space around me giving myself the chance to breathe. I need to relax.

  It has been days or weeks, I can't tell how long I've been here. I am farther from the edge then when I had first gotten trapped here.
  Mainly I have just been sleeping and staring into the blankness as if I'd be lucky.
  My last fight didn't go to well.
  I remember I was fighting Effie and then I am here.
  I don't exactly know where 'here' is.
  I believe I was banished here for some reason. I just can't remember why.
  ...
  [End of chapter]

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