Unexpectedly, I find myself thinking of a coin, who is the ultimate two-face.
You can only ever see the entirety of one side with your own eye, for should you turn it sideways you see but a sliver of its mass, and in comparison to the rest of it, you basically see nothing of its composites. There is just a face you see, and a face you don’t see. In Jungian Psychology the hidden face is called the Shadow, and I’ve come to observe it can sometimes be seen hand in hand with its other, more illuminated half. But in the coin enigma, you either will get one, or the other. They do not merge. Should it spin or should you spin it, the metal passes in a flash, and will only oblige you for a short time, depending on your efforts. Yet withal, those efforts mean nothing, as it is giving you none of its attention. The only time you will ever see both sides simultaneously, is if you borrow a second pair of eyes and have it be described or, you may gaze at its backside through a reflection, which in turn, is simply a reflection. To the coin, the existence of its two faces are simultaneous, and natural, but impossible for an observing eye. You could cut it in half, and flip one side, but the same enigma emerges; now you have created more complexity, and more sides of which you can not see. You could of course, just ask the coin, and take a chance that it is going to tell you the truth. After all, the term two-faced is meant to describe one who is deceitful, double dealing, hypocritical, and even treacherous. If coins became people and had will of their own, maybe some would never turn over.
Maybe some really wouldn’t be that curious about what’s on the other side.