Viewing the latest video made painstakingly by postsecret tore a tear. Months ago, I harboured the secret hope of hand designing a postsecret in memory of dad when we first lost him, but the mind is always weak. Unknown fear of once again breakdown delays the flight. The days turn to months, the months turn to years.
How many do not have unknown secrets? Silently, we wish to be heard, to be understood, to be empathised. Disappointingly, we leave with a bitter taste in our mouth, hearts crushed, eyes brimming with unshed tears.
Misery loves companionship, bonds tighten virtually with every read step of failure. The undefined unified urge towards suicidal tendencies. The many camouflage we don to shield the abjectness we face. Admittedly, like many, flashing thoughts of suicide tantalisingly flashed through my mind in the darkest hours. But the difference lies in whether there is a shining hope out there to pull you out, and i was lucky there were. Reminiscence of the dusty past creeps back like a haunted ghost with similarities. Thats how i feel with every secret i read, the warming heart and silent nodding concensus.
Maybe one day, i’ll get to see my secret posted afterall.
floweger Said:
on August 15, 2007 at 10:58 pm
i do think of suicide too, sometimes.