Tuesday, August 09, 2011
To Whom Shall I Tell My Grief
I've been thinking about the term overshare lately, what it means in a confessional time. Post Secret, a website run by Frank Warren, caters to the impulse of relative strangers to share secrets with one another, postcards that range from the banal and innocent (ie, secrets about urinating in the shower) to the truly horror-inducing (rape, death, loss, spiritual emptiness). The website doesn't have the traditional comment section to discourage the rubbernecking tendency of some who tend toward a clinical level of sensitivity, but has a community which can "chat" about these confessions. I've noticed a lot of people run the gamut of infatuation with both the website and Frank who seems like a really ordinary, nice guy who can hold many projections (Frank as evil Svengali making money for secrets, Frank as Savior who has come to unite and heal), emotions that tend to go from This has saved my life to utter despair over quality, tone, and the ability of confession to save anyone.
The truth has a tendency to feel like a bracing drink on a blistering day --heady and refreshing. Of course, there's the inevitable hangover that comes with this new high, the horrible What have I done? I have never sent a secret because frankly I can't think of one. I suppose it falls in the category of embarrassing stories -- everything is a secret and yet nothing really is. I don't mind the overshare in real life -- I know the consequences of telling someone something and weight them before speaking. Not always the case, not by a long shot. There's something that comes with age that doesn't suck! What about you guys? Tend to regret hearing or saying something? Ever been on the receiving end of someone telling you something and then regretting their confession? Overshare with me!