Secretive Mindset.

So much to say, no way to say it without selling myself out. Instead the innerworkings of my mind are dedicated to an unseen screen, shame avoided and no chance of being embarrassed. My draft count is marred once again, no longer wiped clean, but with one glaring member. I don't mind. Some things are best kept sound until the opportune moment. Some faith is best kept in secret, rather than confessed to the source; the resulting overconfidence quickly stripping its origin. It's funny, I've always been open with my emotions and thoughts, putting a lot of things here that I don't see everyday. I like to share my life, to make something beautiful out of my life experiences and put it somewhere I can be proud of it. In some cases, though, I'm not immune to needing my own secret place. I'm reassured by the thought that it will see light one day, hopefully when it's source is resolved on its own.

This is a feeling unlike that which I usually experience. Open books scarcely hold anything within, and I'm not bursting with stress to reveal it. Within me, safe and sound, I can do whatever I want with the secret only I know. It's better not to bother spilling when you yourself are unsure of exactly what to make of your rattling mind. My discretion may be minimal, but it's existent. it'll find its way to the surface. My words are thoughts I speak daringly. Maybe they'll fall on their face. Maybe they're exactly what's in store. The beauty of the mystery is enticing. I'm no secret keeper, but I can handle just this one. I'm quick to share, and for once I think I'll kick back for awhile. I'll see what you do. Are you reading my mind? Do you feel it, see it, live it? No matter the answer, I am sound in words invisible to set of eyes everywhere.

If I told you my secret, would you swear to keep it?