Have you ever wondered why there are so many secrets in the world? I’ve been told so many!






I like to think of people as books. The pages that I read are turning out to be years of getting to know someone. By the end of the book, there will be so many unintended, foolish, witty, late-night secrets. Hoping to laugh at every single of them, in a poetic way, not ironical. There’s some strange beauty in telling a secret. The beauty that lies in depth of the words. Especially in the way they are told and the way they will be kept in someone’s heart. Or not kept at all. There’s always that other wild half of the human nature that dirigates to let words free from our hearts. And words can be so tricky, with so many meanings, some of them hiding our greatest secrets that manifest themselves as fears, imperfections and complexities. So, telling a secret is a real moment of truth. I never wanted to share my greatest secrets with anybody but myself, but when my emotions hit me, I can be pretty talkative. You can see me gabbling around and unintentionally sharing my insecurities and fears. My little secrets, as I call them. Things I’m ridiculously ashamed of in some way. Things that are foolish in another way. For many of you who have known me, these things may not come as a secret at all, not even a little secret. And that’s okay. Somehow, I feel the need to share it with you, like it’s been some kind of a force. That silly force that makes you do mindless acts, but I hope not some things that you will regret. That same force made me apply for my current job. I’m not a person who brags about it, because to me, that’s just a job like every other, even though it is unusual, different and in the sky. Working as a flight attendant for a local company may seem glamorous to you, but believe me when I tell you it’s not. It’s just well-paid. This is what I chose to do unintentionally and since then my life has been up and down like a roller coaster. The thing is, I really enjoy my life right now. Somehow, my crazy lifestyle keeps me going. I don’t like waking up early in the morning and I don’t drink coffee. It tastes awful and it makes me go mad. And as much this may sound contradictory, I wake up before dawn at least once a week. Sometimes (or always, if you’ve asked for naked truth) I spend hours in the supermarket. Considering my love for all new brands and designs I can spend so much time deciding what product should I buy. I get lost in the eye catching packagings. I hope there’s somebody else in the world that feels the same way about supermarkets. Also, I hope there’s somebody else out there, in the world that has a fear of elevators. Strangely, my fear has nothing to do with claustrophobia, since I’m more than fine with being confined in small spaces. Fears are unreasonable, dark and hazy. Maybe we should never try to understand them. Seems to me, understanding them would be a lost battle. I guess we all need to come to terms with unaccountable. Sadly, reasonable became a lost word, we can just feel its worn out value. In all spheres of life, reasonable has entirely lost its meaning. So it is with secrets. So it is with fears.

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