my secrets have secrets
I’m currently trying to negotiate with myself on how to say things which have happened to me. The true story is not always as fairytale-like as everybody wants to have or believe in. In fact, people would rather be fooled by smoke and mirrors than truly knowing the mundane, yet significant, and not always beautiful reality behind the dramas of everyday living.
I wonder if I speak out about these things. I wonder whether they will take their own lives or become self-fulfilling prophesies. I wonder whether they are just mirrors of my own imagination. They happen but they are so unlike what i have heard or read about. My life is sometimes like that and I have to wonder whether this bizaare realities should be even spoken about or not. Holding your tongue is a virtue I want to have; but it sometimes suffocates my sensibilities.
And so I write here to balance out the secrecy of my secrecy with a little bit of honesty.
It seems like it is quite difficult to be simply honest, even with yourself. It takes courage. I think I said that because I want to be seen as someone brave. But I don’t know. Stripping your inner layers is somewhat frightening as it is liberating.
