Confession

This is not about confession as in "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned...", but the kind of writing that allows for the expression of emotions--even the ones we keep hidden from just about everyone (including ourselves).

I am perpetually fascinated by the masks people wear. Some people are distant. Some people are smart. Some people are slackers or lovers or garbage collectors. Most of us wear masks even when in the arms of the most intimate company.

We do our best to "keep up appearances"--to maintain our facade through the daily routine. But sometimes we crack. Sometimes the mask slips and we are on full display in our rage and fear and sadness and hope and love. We can be glorious. Even if only for a moment.

Occasionally, we allow these slips to be channeled into a written format. It can be as horrific as a slap in the face. It can be easy and small. But it makes us real. It gives us shape--even long after we are gone.


Letters of Note: Correspondence Deserving of a Wider Audience
PostSecret
The Secret Postcards
The Assassin's Cloak: An Anthology of the World's Greatest Diarists


Dear XYZ--

We've lived separated lives over years, centuries, eons...who can tell? In the too short moment crossing I...(insert phrase of your choice here). Did you know you still live under my skin? I never imagined this would be so wrenching.

Words take too long.

Moon Report: 80% of full. Waning gibbous.