There are two kinds of secrets: ones that are dark and poisonous and ones that are bright and glittery.
The first I’ve learned to purge. I throw them out in the light and let them shrivel to dust. Scrutiny purifies the dark energy in a cathartic release.
The second I collect. They are small things that, for whatever reason, lift me up when I think about them. And perhaps, these unpolished stones would be rendered cold and sterile by the application of light. They might become less meaningful if shared.
These are the things that should dwell in the dark recesses of my soul to bring joy.
Have any good secrets?