"What you feel is what you are, and what you are is beautiful"

Secrets. They’re everywhere.

Tenderly tucked into the pockets of our greatest hopes, whispered softly into the ears of loved ones, bellowed to empty fields, printed in the lines of a journals—they’re like magic, rarely touchable and nearly always invisible to even the most dedicated eye. And maybe that’s what makes them so special; they bypass our entire sensory system, we can’t see them, smell them, taste them, none of this, all we can do is feel them, and let them fill up our entire chest with that indescribable weighty delightfulness.

On Sundays, I pull up to my computer, my Jack Skellington mug full with tea, milk and two sugars, and for ten minutes I devour everyone’s postcard, their anonymous bravery to write to the universe their own secret. Whoever hasn’t heart of it, here’s the link:

I’ve posted a few below that have stuck with me: PostSecret














Had to throw this hilarious one in for good measure!