I dont think ive ever felt 100 percent safe confiding with someone. but i love when people confide in me. I think its cool when you let someone into something thats apart of you and so secretive that you dont want other to know.
I’ve never understood why people tell all their secrets. They’re secrets for a reason. Confiding in someone about something they shouldn’t actually know takes a piece of yourself away. A piece of your soul
It’s then that you know what you truly need.
Not somebody to make you laugh, not somebody to make you cry–you need somebody to confide in, somebody who will listen to you and kiss you so softly it makes your bones ache, make love to you so gently it reaches the backs of your knees, the tips of your toes. You need somebody who will love you, and be all that’s enough.
you do this whenever you can’t hold the weight of a secret anymore and you need someone’s help — but only someone who you can trust. it gives you relief, a rather nice feeling when you finally get the dreaded unknown off your back
to relase your own vulnerablity. to feel the power of trusting what are with who are. At this while look at two eyes staring in concren look for sympathy, by your side and ready to be… there for you. this is what it means to trust.
Confide. I do it with my friends. My family. It’s to tell everything to someone. To trust them with all. It’s to have words flow out of you because you’re just do happy to have someone to talk to , somebody who will listen. It’s when you’re are brutally honest with yourself. It’s when you realize the real truth and rationalize.
It is so very precious, this heart of mine, deceptive yet so very precious. It is the well spring of life, out of this golden fiery member: generosity flows, deceit is born, love abounds, hate may be found. Hence in needs to find a keeper, one who is more capable then I. More stable then I. One whose feet will not stumble by any subtle movement or ferocious storm. In God I know I can confide. In his wings I shall tell my heart to hide.
I find it so hard to talk to people. I’ll tug your sleeve. I’ll whisper a greeting. You turn, I run away. Why can’t I speak to you? Why do I feel like I’m drowning in my anxiety. To speak is sin, to hide is sin, and I can’t do this anymore. I want to brush it all away. I want to curl up and hide, press delete and start fresh. Why can’t I speak?
Confide in me… you’ll never regret it. I know that you need to get off your chest what is bothering you. Just get it out and you will feel relieved! I know there is something on your mind. Does it have to do with….
Ok, ok. I’ll tell you. Yesterday I got in a fight with my master teacher and I can’t believe the things that she said.
Bertholdt never knew who he could tell his secrets to, or if he even should. cant think cant think cant think. One day it clicked though, he could tell an old friend of his. The problem was that he couldn’t just go up and say hey to them, he hadn’t spoken to him in years. It’d be wrong to be casual about it.
I don’t confide in anyone, really. I do, but never fully. I had a therapist for two years and never fully confided to her all of my secrets. Or rather, just my one big secret. No one will ever know that one.
“And so, after signing this document, you won’t be able to tell anyone of this meeting. Understood?”
“Not even-”
“Anyone. Please sign on the dotted line.”
She took the pen with a trembling hand, her chipped nail polish matching the dark ink as she slowly signed the paper. The ink dripped onto the page when she lifted the tip and handed the pen back.
“Thank you.” The voice said, as he rolled the page up. The paper crumbled into ash and fell onto the table.
Renee. My secrets were always safe with her. As we huddled in our rooms. Raced about in the morning. She’s gone to Ohio. My secrets have lost their hiding place. Must find new ones. Renee. A big sister. Confide. The end.
I will confide in you this much. I was a bit disappointed that after spending a couple of weeks writing a short story about a horserace, based around the Grand National, the day after I finish you throw out the word “derby”
I can confide anything to you. You are my confidant, my best friend. From you, I can hide nothing because I want to tell you everything. I want you to know everything in my life because you are my life.
Some may seem to eager to share their lives story. But the ones who confide in private matters, at small tables, in back alleys; they are the ones who’s restless stone has not yet been cut by Rosetta.
and i wanted so badly to confide in her, to tell her my secrets in the dark night with a blanket over the two of us, but i didn’t. i let her spill her guts and her guilt and i acted shocked at all the right moments, like this was news to me. sometimes i hate myself utterly and completely
I could always confide in Bobby. Why? Because I knew he cared about me and would support me in anything I tried to do. He would offer honest but gentle and constructive criticism. He would also dole out a lot of praise. I miss him. He’s gone now, and there will never be anyone who can quite take his place. He gave me the courage to try things I would not have tried if he hadn’t been there to support me. Bobby was my brother.
they sat over the secret menu drinks from Starbucks. This is where they confided. So much was said that couldn’t be heard by anyone they knew. Each with a top secret mission.
You must confide in others in order to confide in yourself. Basically by trusting others it will open your world to more people and happiness. Secrets are the binding of trust which is essential to healthy friendships. The phoniness and unhappiness comes from the lack of respect and not confiding in one another.
“Confide me,” she whispers. “Give me some clues as to this poor, tragic boy really is. This boy who lives a world that conforms just for him, that gives his whatever he wants whenever he wants it.
He frowned and took a step forward. “This is a boy who’s stuck in a world that lies to him, tells him that he should be happy-that he IS happy- when he knows he’s not. This is a boy who has been told what he wants given nothing he needs.”
She shook her head. “No one’s telling you to do anything but you.”
I confided in you, a “friend” I would call you, but in terms that were so loaded that it doesn’t even begin to skim the surface of how I really felt. There’s a strange feeling you get when you think about somebody so incessantly, in a way with only vague but meaningful implications… if only you knew.
The parts i knew helped my confide my depths and the fears I tried to hide. Under the ground he confides to what I found. Above the plains and the desert sky, look my love it is I.
If i confide in you, its not because i love you. I love a lot of people. If i confide in you it doesn’t mean i trust you. I trust a lot of people. If i confide in you it’s not because i care about you. I care about lots of people. If i confide in you its not because you mean a lot. Lots of people mean a lot to me. If i confide in you it’s because i respect you and like you too much to lie. I don’t like and respect a lot of people.
ability to trust someone when you have something special to share, to be able to get something off your chest and not have to worry about it coming back to haunt you….to be able to listen to someone and help them through a tough time in their life. I like this word, although confidence means you are sure of yourself
Confide. In who? In you? In the computer screen? What about the NSA? The TSA? Can you every really confide in anyone, oneword, 750words, confiding for all to see, for all eternity? Why note? A new song “Confide with Me.” Oh bless us all, confide with me.
I looked at the boy across from me, biting my lip and fiddling with my fingers.
“I have something to tell you,” I said slowly.
He nodded, waiting patiently.
I had never even considered telling someone what I was about to reveal, but it was time. I had to. It was important, beyond belief.
When there’s no one around, I confide in my bedpost, or the glossy old photographs taped to my mirror. Sometimes, I find faces in the notches of wood, where a smile looks more natural than on real skin.
I drape my arms over the mattress and think, “If I rub hard enough, maybe all of this static electricity will wake up my brain and my heart, and I’ll be able to dance again. Probably not, though.”
Everything’s icy as early as noon. And everything’s hot when I try to sleep.
“Du musst gut darauf aufpassen!” Ihre Stimme zitterte, als sie das kleine Pläckchen in Lenas Hände gab.
“Das hab ich dir doch versprochen.”
Isabell wusste dass. Aber es war einfach so wichtig. Ihr ganzes Leben hing davon ab.
“Niemand darf davon erfahren. Du darfst es niemandem zeigen.”
I confided in her–a sunflower seed dropped sweetly into a garden of damp earth and sweet, unfiltered light. “This is too far,” she reminded. She chided me for my candor.
It takes a lot of strength to do it, but there’s always been one person that I can run to, one person who never judges and always pours out love. I don’t know why I don’t do it more often. Self-preservation, I suppose. But she’s my sanctuary, my safe place, ready to listen and hug and love and murder mine enemies all at once.
I guess trust is a coctail of “confident” and “suicide”, so if someone generally wish to end up his life doing suicide, he needs to be confident that possibility of death is actually valid – otherwise all family, friends, mates, people he knew in total will treat him like a person that wanted to escape from attractive and amazing, breathtaking and concious world to manage new life in other, miserable reality…What seems to be a problem? Just start trust Yourself.
I don’t want to be the kind of person you feel unable to trust. I want to give my deepest secret to your soul and confide my best thoughts in your welcoming heart. I desire to be the only thought that passes in the fleeting time we have
They leaned in close to one another, shoulders touching like two halves of a heart. Jenny’s voice dropped to a whisper, and she squeezed her arms tightly against herself. “I’ve never made a mistake before,” she said. “Maybe that’s the problem.”
Karrie nudged her and said, “Well then maybe it’s time to make some mistakes. Let’ write a bad poem or something.”
I dont think ive ever felt 100 percent safe confiding with someone. but i love when people confide in me. I think its cool when you let someone into something thats apart of you and so secretive that you dont want other to know.
I’ve never understood why people tell all their secrets. They’re secrets for a reason. Confiding in someone about something they shouldn’t actually know takes a piece of yourself away. A piece of your soul
It’s then that you know what you truly need.
Not somebody to make you laugh, not somebody to make you cry–you need somebody to confide in, somebody who will listen to you and kiss you so softly it makes your bones ache, make love to you so gently it reaches the backs of your knees, the tips of your toes. You need somebody who will love you, and be all that’s enough.
you do this whenever you can’t hold the weight of a secret anymore and you need someone’s help — but only someone who you can trust. it gives you relief, a rather nice feeling when you finally get the dreaded unknown off your back
How was she supposed to do this? How could she confide in the one person who could destroy her for doing so?
There was no time. She turned to him, grasped his hand, and bared her soul.
to relase your own vulnerablity. to feel the power of trusting what are with who are. At this while look at two eyes staring in concren look for sympathy, by your side and ready to be… there for you. this is what it means to trust.
Confide. I do it with my friends. My family. It’s to tell everything to someone. To trust them with all. It’s to have words flow out of you because you’re just do happy to have someone to talk to , somebody who will listen. It’s when you’re are brutally honest with yourself. It’s when you realize the real truth and rationalize.
It is so very precious, this heart of mine, deceptive yet so very precious. It is the well spring of life, out of this golden fiery member: generosity flows, deceit is born, love abounds, hate may be found. Hence in needs to find a keeper, one who is more capable then I. More stable then I. One whose feet will not stumble by any subtle movement or ferocious storm. In God I know I can confide. In his wings I shall tell my heart to hide.
confide in me, love
and gone will be the days of
forgetting memories.
I find it so hard to talk to people. I’ll tug your sleeve. I’ll whisper a greeting. You turn, I run away. Why can’t I speak to you? Why do I feel like I’m drowning in my anxiety. To speak is sin, to hide is sin, and I can’t do this anymore. I want to brush it all away. I want to curl up and hide, press delete and start fresh. Why can’t I speak?
Confide in me… you’ll never regret it. I know that you need to get off your chest what is bothering you. Just get it out and you will feel relieved! I know there is something on your mind. Does it have to do with….
Ok, ok. I’ll tell you. Yesterday I got in a fight with my master teacher and I can’t believe the things that she said.
Bertholdt never knew who he could tell his secrets to, or if he even should. cant think cant think cant think. One day it clicked though, he could tell an old friend of his. The problem was that he couldn’t just go up and say hey to them, he hadn’t spoken to him in years. It’d be wrong to be casual about it.
I don’t confide in anyone, really. I do, but never fully. I had a therapist for two years and never fully confided to her all of my secrets. Or rather, just my one big secret. No one will ever know that one.
“And so, after signing this document, you won’t be able to tell anyone of this meeting. Understood?”
“Not even-”
“Anyone. Please sign on the dotted line.”
She took the pen with a trembling hand, her chipped nail polish matching the dark ink as she slowly signed the paper. The ink dripped onto the page when she lifted the tip and handed the pen back.
“Thank you.” The voice said, as he rolled the page up. The paper crumbled into ash and fell onto the table.
Renee. My secrets were always safe with her. As we huddled in our rooms. Raced about in the morning. She’s gone to Ohio. My secrets have lost their hiding place. Must find new ones. Renee. A big sister. Confide. The end.
I will confide in you this much. I was a bit disappointed that after spending a couple of weeks writing a short story about a horserace, based around the Grand National, the day after I finish you throw out the word “derby”
It is like imparting a part of you to other people. Sometimes, it is just difficult to do it.
I can confide anything to you. You are my confidant, my best friend. From you, I can hide nothing because I want to tell you everything. I want you to know everything in my life because you are my life.
Some may seem to eager to share their lives story. But the ones who confide in private matters, at small tables, in back alleys; they are the ones who’s restless stone has not yet been cut by Rosetta.
and i wanted so badly to confide in her, to tell her my secrets in the dark night with a blanket over the two of us, but i didn’t. i let her spill her guts and her guilt and i acted shocked at all the right moments, like this was news to me. sometimes i hate myself utterly and completely
I could always confide in Bobby. Why? Because I knew he cared about me and would support me in anything I tried to do. He would offer honest but gentle and constructive criticism. He would also dole out a lot of praise. I miss him. He’s gone now, and there will never be anyone who can quite take his place. He gave me the courage to try things I would not have tried if he hadn’t been there to support me. Bobby was my brother.
they sat over the secret menu drinks from Starbucks. This is where they confided. So much was said that couldn’t be heard by anyone they knew. Each with a top secret mission.
Confide in your friends… only in friends.
But, maybe then, don’t confide.
Confide in yourself.
But, if you confide in only yourself…
You have no one to confide in…
But yourself.
You must confide in others in order to confide in yourself. Basically by trusting others it will open your world to more people and happiness. Secrets are the binding of trust which is essential to healthy friendships. The phoniness and unhappiness comes from the lack of respect and not confiding in one another.
“Confide me,” she whispers. “Give me some clues as to this poor, tragic boy really is. This boy who lives a world that conforms just for him, that gives his whatever he wants whenever he wants it.
He frowned and took a step forward. “This is a boy who’s stuck in a world that lies to him, tells him that he should be happy-that he IS happy- when he knows he’s not. This is a boy who has been told what he wants given nothing he needs.”
She shook her head. “No one’s telling you to do anything but you.”
rare to let someone share in confidence, conjuring the words that will never perfect thoughts. action develops confidence.
I confided in you, a “friend” I would call you, but in terms that were so loaded that it doesn’t even begin to skim the surface of how I really felt. There’s a strange feeling you get when you think about somebody so incessantly, in a way with only vague but meaningful implications… if only you knew.
The parts i knew helped my confide my depths and the fears I tried to hide. Under the ground he confides to what I found. Above the plains and the desert sky, look my love it is I.
If i confide in you, its not because i love you. I love a lot of people. If i confide in you it doesn’t mean i trust you. I trust a lot of people. If i confide in you it’s not because i care about you. I care about lots of people. If i confide in you its not because you mean a lot. Lots of people mean a lot to me. If i confide in you it’s because i respect you and like you too much to lie. I don’t like and respect a lot of people.
ability to trust someone when you have something special to share, to be able to get something off your chest and not have to worry about it coming back to haunt you….to be able to listen to someone and help them through a tough time in their life. I like this word, although confidence means you are sure of yourself
Confide. In who? In you? In the computer screen? What about the NSA? The TSA? Can you every really confide in anyone, oneword, 750words, confiding for all to see, for all eternity? Why note? A new song “Confide with Me.” Oh bless us all, confide with me.
I looked at the boy across from me, biting my lip and fiddling with my fingers.
“I have something to tell you,” I said slowly.
He nodded, waiting patiently.
I had never even considered telling someone what I was about to reveal, but it was time. I had to. It was important, beyond belief.
When there’s no one around, I confide in my bedpost, or the glossy old photographs taped to my mirror. Sometimes, I find faces in the notches of wood, where a smile looks more natural than on real skin.
I drape my arms over the mattress and think, “If I rub hard enough, maybe all of this static electricity will wake up my brain and my heart, and I’ll be able to dance again. Probably not, though.”
Everything’s icy as early as noon. And everything’s hot when I try to sleep.
A note
It says
“Come talk to me
after class”
A whisper in a ear
A secret phone call
A midnight email
A need to share lifes secrets
“Du musst gut darauf aufpassen!” Ihre Stimme zitterte, als sie das kleine Pläckchen in Lenas Hände gab.
“Das hab ich dir doch versprochen.”
Isabell wusste dass. Aber es war einfach so wichtig. Ihr ganzes Leben hing davon ab.
“Niemand darf davon erfahren. Du darfst es niemandem zeigen.”
I confided in her–a sunflower seed dropped sweetly into a garden of damp earth and sweet, unfiltered light. “This is too far,” she reminded. She chided me for my candor.
It takes a lot of strength to do it, but there’s always been one person that I can run to, one person who never judges and always pours out love. I don’t know why I don’t do it more often. Self-preservation, I suppose. But she’s my sanctuary, my safe place, ready to listen and hug and love and murder mine enemies all at once.
I guess trust is a coctail of “confident” and “suicide”, so if someone generally wish to end up his life doing suicide, he needs to be confident that possibility of death is actually valid – otherwise all family, friends, mates, people he knew in total will treat him like a person that wanted to escape from attractive and amazing, breathtaking and concious world to manage new life in other, miserable reality…What seems to be a problem? Just start trust Yourself.
I don’t want to be the kind of person you feel unable to trust. I want to give my deepest secret to your soul and confide my best thoughts in your welcoming heart. I desire to be the only thought that passes in the fleeting time we have
They leaned in close to one another, shoulders touching like two halves of a heart. Jenny’s voice dropped to a whisper, and she squeezed her arms tightly against herself. “I’ve never made a mistake before,” she said. “Maybe that’s the problem.”
Karrie nudged her and said, “Well then maybe it’s time to make some mistakes. Let’ write a bad poem or something.”