I have lots of secrets, but I tell them all, so they aren’t really secrets. I give out my secrets like candy to children, but that’s how I cope. Even if nobody’s listening, I’ll tell my secrets.
I felt the air rush through my lungs, I felt every blood cell leap for oxygen. I felt lucky to even exist and be healthy in a world full of discontent and disease. Most of the time, I hated my dull life. But my secret? Sometimes I loved it. I just kept it to myself, as a discreet reminder that I made myself happy–I didn’t depend on others to supply it to me, just like I didn’t depend on others for the air I breathed.
Shhh, don’t tell anyone about that please. I have been trying to forget that. Okay, okay you are right, I can’t stand bearing this alone anymore. Please DONT TELL. I don’t think I can bear another moment alone….in this SECRET world. Please tell everyone. Don’t let the secret die alone.
Something you keep. Or don’t. The value of a secret isn’t really relevant once it is spoken. The only thing that can ever be a secret is anything you keep between you and yourself. Self. Nothing is never not known. Humans aren’t suppose to not know things. It’s in our dynamic to even know, feel, when we don’t know something we’re suppose to.
That’s when she fell into the water. Well, I pushed her. Playfully. But from the looks of it…you know, the high pitch shrill, her lips as jagged as the Rockies and her fists fiercely tearing through the water (along with incidental collisions with the neighbors innocent kids) told me that there was a greater cause to her frustration than being pushed into the tank. Yes. This one had secrets.
Its something that only you know but you are not allowed to tell to anyone.Secrets its also a really good son from a good and famous band called one republic.
Unheard secrets have little weight. They are like the vacuum on the sidewalk between two passing strangers, navigating their respective passage at high speed, sweeping away even the atmospheric molecules that dare to insulate their scurrying egos incarnate one from the other, full to the brim inside with the things they will not say, wouldn’t reveal, don’t dare allow to be known. Everybody has secrets, which remain unimportant as long as they remain unheard.
I have many secrets. I dont know if i should be honest to people or not. my problem is that i don’t really trust people and when i do i just go to far. I act like an honest person but i really am not. I am really private and well even that is private because nobody even knows about it. I wish i could be honest with everyone but i just can’t
There should be no secrets. Or rather all the secrets you know are all the ones you need. The grand secret is you’re as much as part of earth as a tree, an insect, a whale. Why destroy it? When you you destroy the connection, you destroy yourself.
I have a secret everyone knows but no one talks about…aloud. But yet it is unknown to me. I am the only one who doesn’t have a clue. All I know is people fall silent when I walk into the room.
not wanting someone to know what you’ve hidden, the fun feeling of knowing something some else doesn’t. Being selective about the information you give. Keeping parts of yourself for only you to see.
secrets are things that should never be told until they are ready to come out. a flower should never be opened until it is ready to bloom. A secret must be cultivated over time and nurtured until it is ready to face the sunlight and grow into something more.
I have a secret. We all have secrets. Some bigger than others. Logan has a secret too. He can’t tell me what it is. Secrets change us. They make us less trustworthy, they make us weaker. They rip and pull and tear at us. They eat us alive. They are our worst enemies. And yet, for some reason, we hold onto them. We grasp them closely, like a beloved trophy. They are powerful. They could destroy us. They could destroy everyone that we love. And yet, we all keep them. We keep them, blindly, unable to see the evil that they create. The evil that they content. The evil that they make us.
Sure, she had told a few people throughout her life. But it’s not something that came easily, or often. It took effort and camaraderie to earn this story. Rarely told, but every time she told it it felt like a well-tuned performance.
It wasn’t a secret. It was just something to earn.
My secrets hang upon the tips of butterfly wings, migrating within a swarm into every depth of the world. When one drops, the others continue to pursue where they’re going. Maybe attaching them to the scales of fish would have been a better option. At least when a pescatarian meal is had, my secrets would be ripped to shreds by the teeth of stranger rather than floated into their palms by butterflies.
A secret is something you can’t tell anyone. It could be about anything, your mom, sister, friend, or husband. How many secrets have you kept in our life? Do you like keeping secrets from people? What bothers me the most is when someone tells me they have a secret but can’t tell me about it.
I don’t have a lot of secrets, or a lot of other people’s secrets– well, not important secrets. This is probably a big flaw in my life. Where’s my arch-nemesis, my sidekick, my secret lair, my magical fairy friends? Unknown tunnels and sliding library doors covered with books, car chases and investigations; where’s my secret double life? My big, fat juicy secret? Instead I have to remember to clip my nails and be places on time. Sigh.
I tried to keep it a secret for so long. But just like Elinor Dashwood from Austen’s novel, it was going to build up and come out eventually. Emotions can only be contained for so long, building pressure until it finally explodes. I tried to keep it a secret.
Unkempt and unexplored, locked away in the recesses of a mind all too familiar with the act of pushing down the inevitable. But in the forbidden corners lay a burning spark, yearning to be released, replenished, relieved, relived, rehashed, reflected.
I leaned over and quietly whispered into my sisters ear. Her eyes widened. her mouth formed a perfectly round donut. What I told her, I could never tell anyone else. Not because I wasn’t friends with anyone else, but because no one was as good friends with me as I was with my sister.
I stopped talking, I didn’t want to say anything, at all. But I had already begun. They stared at me, patiently waiting, wondering why I called them here, I couldn’t back out. Now was the time to tell them my deepest secret.
When you’ve got a secret, you can feel it weighing you down like too much dinner at Thanksgiving. It follows you everywhere you go, and the bigger the secret, the worse it is, the heavier it gets. And when you’re talking to someone about the subject, you feel like they know, they just know, and they can see straight through you.
Secrets tear people down, but we need them, don’t we? If we don’t have secrets, we lose ourselves. We become what others see, but who we really are disappears. When I’m in a relationship that’s getting too intense, I create new secrets so I have something for me.
A secret is something that you keep deep within you. That no one knows but you and regardless of what they say, a secret is not a secret once it’s told to someone. It’s something that perhaps you yourself might not even be aware of. A secret that only your soul recognizes once it reaches depths of oblivion. Impossibility.
I have a secret about this girl I like and I want to be with her so I make believe in my head sometimes. I also have a secret that I own a unicorn and it’s name is Charlie. And I love Brooke very much and I have a crush on my best friends.
friends you trust, things that could get you into trouble of ever people found, possibly hurt people, particularly the ones you love! can be kept a lifeime, some are good and some extremely bad!
i think secrets are the most powerful thing, if someone tells you a secret of theirs, it means they trust you enough to keep it safe and guard it for them. secrets shouldn’t be taken lightly, as a whisper to someone else could easily make or break a relationship. don’t take secrets lightly!
There’s a secret passageway, back behind the bookshelf, which leads down a street, underground of course or everyone would know about it. Then when you are out of the tunnel, you are at the end of thinning bracken, with nothing but the pull of the blue sky to take you forward. The dirt under your feet will turn to sand, and the sand to puddles of water, until you realize that you are lost and sinking and no one knows where you are so you have to turn back, but my god the sun looks so beautiful as it sets on the other side of infinity.
I already did this one, but I guess I get to say more. I told Chelsea my secret years ago, and I wonder if she ever told anyone, and if she did, what was their reaction? How can I act so normal around him when he stole my innocence? I act like nothing happend, but I know it did.
I have a secret. I am not sure who I can tell but I feel like it is eating me alive. I feel scared to share. Can I trust you? I never wanted this secret to happen. Please!
It’s out there. There is no telling where it started, or why, or how even. It’s there though. With nothing you can do about it.
They aren’t talking about it, not yet. They aren’t talking so no one knows. The ones that know know.
My thoughts wandered and I couldn’t believe how well it was hidden. The jewel was as close as beneath my pillow case, a beautiful secret as close to my lips as any lover ever was, and now it had disappeared. If only the more painful secrets would dissolve as easily. It could float away into the ocean, back where it belonged.
I have lots of secrets, but I tell them all, so they aren’t really secrets. I give out my secrets like candy to children, but that’s how I cope. Even if nobody’s listening, I’ll tell my secrets.
I felt the air rush through my lungs, I felt every blood cell leap for oxygen. I felt lucky to even exist and be healthy in a world full of discontent and disease. Most of the time, I hated my dull life. But my secret? Sometimes I loved it. I just kept it to myself, as a discreet reminder that I made myself happy–I didn’t depend on others to supply it to me, just like I didn’t depend on others for the air I breathed.
Secret, its complicated,
everyone has one. Or many.
or at least they think they do….
in my case…i have one.
ten days. that’s it.
Shhh, don’t tell anyone about that please. I have been trying to forget that. Okay, okay you are right, I can’t stand bearing this alone anymore. Please DONT TELL. I don’t think I can bear another moment alone….in this SECRET world. Please tell everyone. Don’t let the secret die alone.
Something you keep. Or don’t. The value of a secret isn’t really relevant once it is spoken. The only thing that can ever be a secret is anything you keep between you and yourself. Self. Nothing is never not known. Humans aren’t suppose to not know things. It’s in our dynamic to even know, feel, when we don’t know something we’re suppose to.
That’s when she fell into the water. Well, I pushed her. Playfully. But from the looks of it…you know, the high pitch shrill, her lips as jagged as the Rockies and her fists fiercely tearing through the water (along with incidental collisions with the neighbors innocent kids) told me that there was a greater cause to her frustration than being pushed into the tank. Yes. This one had secrets.
Its something that only you know but you are not allowed to tell to anyone.Secrets its also a really good son from a good and famous band called one republic.
Unheard secrets have little weight. They are like the vacuum on the sidewalk between two passing strangers, navigating their respective passage at high speed, sweeping away even the atmospheric molecules that dare to insulate their scurrying egos incarnate one from the other, full to the brim inside with the things they will not say, wouldn’t reveal, don’t dare allow to be known. Everybody has secrets, which remain unimportant as long as they remain unheard.
im watching the bourne ultimatum and jason just learned the secret of his past. i love this movie. and matt damon.
something that special friends share. Something that is hard on the soul. something that makes your heart race. soemthing that can last an eternity.
I have many secrets. I dont know if i should be honest to people or not. my problem is that i don’t really trust people and when i do i just go to far. I act like an honest person but i really am not. I am really private and well even that is private because nobody even knows about it. I wish i could be honest with everyone but i just can’t
There should be no secrets. Or rather all the secrets you know are all the ones you need. The grand secret is you’re as much as part of earth as a tree, an insect, a whale. Why destroy it? When you you destroy the connection, you destroy yourself.
The secret has been kept for thirteen years. No one except me knows the whole story… some people know little bits of it.
More secrets kept than told, stepping quietly rather be scared than to be bold, secrets dont make friends they make enemies as far as I am told.
I have a secret everyone knows but no one talks about…aloud. But yet it is unknown to me. I am the only one who doesn’t have a clue. All I know is people fall silent when I walk into the room.
not wanting someone to know what you’ve hidden, the fun feeling of knowing something some else doesn’t. Being selective about the information you give. Keeping parts of yourself for only you to see.
secrets are things that should never be told until they are ready to come out. a flower should never be opened until it is ready to bloom. A secret must be cultivated over time and nurtured until it is ready to face the sunlight and grow into something more.
I have a secret. We all have secrets. Some bigger than others. Logan has a secret too. He can’t tell me what it is. Secrets change us. They make us less trustworthy, they make us weaker. They rip and pull and tear at us. They eat us alive. They are our worst enemies. And yet, for some reason, we hold onto them. We grasp them closely, like a beloved trophy. They are powerful. They could destroy us. They could destroy everyone that we love. And yet, we all keep them. We keep them, blindly, unable to see the evil that they create. The evil that they content. The evil that they make us.
It wasn’t something she was comfortable sharing.
Sure, she had told a few people throughout her life. But it’s not something that came easily, or often. It took effort and camaraderie to earn this story. Rarely told, but every time she told it it felt like a well-tuned performance.
It wasn’t a secret. It was just something to earn.
My secrets hang upon the tips of butterfly wings, migrating within a swarm into every depth of the world. When one drops, the others continue to pursue where they’re going. Maybe attaching them to the scales of fish would have been a better option. At least when a pescatarian meal is had, my secrets would be ripped to shreds by the teeth of stranger rather than floated into their palms by butterflies.
A secret is something you can’t tell anyone. It could be about anything, your mom, sister, friend, or husband. How many secrets have you kept in our life? Do you like keeping secrets from people? What bothers me the most is when someone tells me they have a secret but can’t tell me about it.
The Penny and Pencil
this hand holds a penny
Found on a railway track
Stretched by the speed
Of commuters, families
On day trips, sleepers
On the second round trip
This hand, on the other hand
Hides a nub of a 6B pencil
The wood ground down to an inch
The lead, the heart, used to dullness
Keeping secrets is dangerous. Keep them to yourself. Trust no one.
I don’t have a lot of secrets, or a lot of other people’s secrets– well, not important secrets. This is probably a big flaw in my life. Where’s my arch-nemesis, my sidekick, my secret lair, my magical fairy friends? Unknown tunnels and sliding library doors covered with books, car chases and investigations; where’s my secret double life? My big, fat juicy secret? Instead I have to remember to clip my nails and be places on time. Sigh.
I tried to keep it a secret for so long. But just like Elinor Dashwood from Austen’s novel, it was going to build up and come out eventually. Emotions can only be contained for so long, building pressure until it finally explodes. I tried to keep it a secret.
Everyone knew.
Unkempt and unexplored, locked away in the recesses of a mind all too familiar with the act of pushing down the inevitable. But in the forbidden corners lay a burning spark, yearning to be released, replenished, relieved, relived, rehashed, reflected.
I leaned over and quietly whispered into my sisters ear. Her eyes widened. her mouth formed a perfectly round donut. What I told her, I could never tell anyone else. Not because I wasn’t friends with anyone else, but because no one was as good friends with me as I was with my sister.
I stopped talking, I didn’t want to say anything, at all. But I had already begun. They stared at me, patiently waiting, wondering why I called them here, I couldn’t back out. Now was the time to tell them my deepest secret.
When you’ve got a secret, you can feel it weighing you down like too much dinner at Thanksgiving. It follows you everywhere you go, and the bigger the secret, the worse it is, the heavier it gets. And when you’re talking to someone about the subject, you feel like they know, they just know, and they can see straight through you.
Secrets tear people down, but we need them, don’t we? If we don’t have secrets, we lose ourselves. We become what others see, but who we really are disappears. When I’m in a relationship that’s getting too intense, I create new secrets so I have something for me.
A secret is something that you keep deep within you. That no one knows but you and regardless of what they say, a secret is not a secret once it’s told to someone. It’s something that perhaps you yourself might not even be aware of. A secret that only your soul recognizes once it reaches depths of oblivion. Impossibility.
I have a secret about this girl I like and I want to be with her so I make believe in my head sometimes. I also have a secret that I own a unicorn and it’s name is Charlie. And I love Brooke very much and I have a crush on my best friends.
friends you trust, things that could get you into trouble of ever people found, possibly hurt people, particularly the ones you love! can be kept a lifeime, some are good and some extremely bad!
i think secrets are the most powerful thing, if someone tells you a secret of theirs, it means they trust you enough to keep it safe and guard it for them. secrets shouldn’t be taken lightly, as a whisper to someone else could easily make or break a relationship. don’t take secrets lightly!
There’s a secret passageway, back behind the bookshelf, which leads down a street, underground of course or everyone would know about it. Then when you are out of the tunnel, you are at the end of thinning bracken, with nothing but the pull of the blue sky to take you forward. The dirt under your feet will turn to sand, and the sand to puddles of water, until you realize that you are lost and sinking and no one knows where you are so you have to turn back, but my god the sun looks so beautiful as it sets on the other side of infinity.
I already did this one, but I guess I get to say more. I told Chelsea my secret years ago, and I wonder if she ever told anyone, and if she did, what was their reaction? How can I act so normal around him when he stole my innocence? I act like nothing happend, but I know it did.
I have a secret. I am not sure who I can tell but I feel like it is eating me alive. I feel scared to share. Can I trust you? I never wanted this secret to happen. Please!
It’s out there. There is no telling where it started, or why, or how even. It’s there though. With nothing you can do about it.
They aren’t talking about it, not yet. They aren’t talking so no one knows. The ones that know know.
of life seed plant tree two bond never to be told understanding passage way engineering desing houme interior really cool agent guns cars performance
My thoughts wandered and I couldn’t believe how well it was hidden. The jewel was as close as beneath my pillow case, a beautiful secret as close to my lips as any lover ever was, and now it had disappeared. If only the more painful secrets would dissolve as easily. It could float away into the ocean, back where it belonged.