I am fascinated by post secret. I think it is a beautiful project, and Frank Warren posts real, genuine, beautiful art. I got the book, and it I was even further impressed with the project. it is a work of art.
I lent it to my brother. another book I will probably never see again!
I can't remember how I stumbled across this website, but when I did, a began to wonder if I had any secrets that would fit the rules:
You are invited to anonymously contribute your secrets to PostSecret. Each secret can be a regret, hope, funny experience, unseen kindness, fantasy, belief, fear, betrayal, erotic desire, feeling, confession, or childhood humiliation. Reveal anything - as long as it is true and you have never shared it with anyone before.
I really don't believe that I hide things. and as far as my past goes, for all the trauma and excitement I've been through, I've been quite noisey about it. I admire those who say very little-- it's just not my style.
slowly, I made a realization-- something that I truly had never told anyone. I spent hours creating my postcard, with the most subtle of symbolism, and I was terrified to mail it. I knew that everyone would know it was me.
then my secret was posted.
my eyes had been blacked out, but the reality of what I had written was, unretractably, there on the screen. there on the blog. there for everyone to see.
most importantly: me.
(pause)
I believe the reason that this project is so meaningful is because people truly have to reach within, search, stretch, and struggle-- then to find release in coming to terms, knowing that they aren't alone. I read Mr. Warren's blog every week, and what I wonder most when I am reading the cards is whether they are from someone I know who just is afraid... I'm not being very eloquent... when we are most raw, we are also most sympathetic.
and here I've spent nearly half an hour slowly typing up my own drama just because I came across one of these bullshit blog communities that is trying to immitate what Mr. Warren has going on, but it's a fucking contest. it's a contest where secrets and vulnerabilities are criticized and someone fucking wins.
how can I person truly search her soul when she knows that she has a timeline, an intimate (possibly hostile) audience, and is openly being judged?
plus it's insanely melodramatic.
gah. the whole thing disgusts me.
anyway, I was hesitant about updating because what I wrote at the end of my last entry was somewhat directed. and then I realized that I was doing exactly what this fucking community is doing: I'm reserving words that need to be shared directly with the person who needs to hear them for my own poetic purposes. stupid.
communication = health = stability = happiness
