It all started on sad day of mild desperation (that probably had something to do with chemistry, boys/lack thereof, or confusion regarding my general overall direction in life) but once you pop, the fun don't stop. No, I'm not talking about drugs or what/who I was doing around this time last year, I am talking about this website. Though this logic doesn't usually help when I'm trying to comfort my friends, I've always found an intense amount of relief comes from knowing that there are tons of people in the world who are probably going through exactly what you are, or maybe even far worse. Yeah, your life sucks now, but at least you're not pondering suicide or overcoming child molestation. Dissastified with something in life? No worries, you're one of at least a million, and the world still seems to be functioning normally.
It's interesting to see that secrets actually tend split four ways. A large chunk are somewhat serious, profound truths that the author might well deny if ever confronted with (eg: "I live in a small, rightwing Christian town and I'm gay!"). The second aren't entirely secrets at all, but more like furtive, direct messages hoping to be found by happenstance. Their creators, for some reason or another, decided actually telling the intended recipient was a bad idea, but they were just so overcome with feeling they had to at least feed the fantasy that the message might still get through somehow. (These first two account for most of the emoness I'll be discussing later). The third kind are usually some sortof statement that's no secret at all, and really just intended for a mass audience that post secret is facilitating the attention of. The fourth run the gamut of categories, but they're more lighthearted and fun. Here's a personal favorite:
(And you all thought academia was a stretch...anyways...)
Long story short- keep 'em coming, I'm listening.
2 comments:
Have you sent one in? I've toyed with the idea at times, but my life's been so free of real hurt (e.g. the child molestation-type confessions, etc.) and I'm so dull (museums don't make me horny, no matter how unsurprised some people would be at such a revelation if it were true, given the Tim Gavrich stereotypes) that I've yet to find something that would make the website or a book.
The idea has been toyed with, but I'd hate to have just one thing define me as a person to billions of people I'll never know. So much pressure to choose well, and so much...
but the idea has definitley not been eliminated.
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