26: SHORTCUT TO CELIBACY

It’s interesting the kinds of secrets we keep, the hypothesized shadow self we hide from the world, and the nature of the skeletons we hide in our closets. Some secrets -some skeletons, are nothing but dust, some are rotten, with the flesh still clinging to the bones, and some sit in the shadow of their secrecy, sharing the darkness with ghosts of what they once was.

Secrets points to us where our shame lies, and makes us understand the shame of others. I believe that nobody in this world is truly an open book. You might meet people that seem like an open book, but have burnt pages. You might meet people that seem like an open book, but written in a language only they can understand. We all have our secrets, we all have our shame; some more disturbing than others.

I zoom in again on the files Wilma sent me.

I’m pretty sure my sister’s stalking skills rivals that of the FBI, the CIA, and the KGB combined.

This is solid proof. Screenshots of chats, blurred photographs of them caught in