3 months after the exhibition of Silent Negotiations, submissions are still trickling into www.submitsecret.com
This calls for yet another experiment very soon.
Three months ago, my best friend was run over by a car, but survived. She is now confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life. I saw the car coming, but didn’t tell her to wait… Ever since that day, I’ve tried to get myself run over, but it hasn’t worked yet.
Dear Rob,
You always thought you were chatting with a nice girl from California, but instead Ellen and I were just joking around, pretending we were this ‘Betty’. It got all messy and now you are left with a broken heart and too many questions. I am deeply sorry.
This is a bit of a secret, maybe more of a profession of something that no-one has ever had the right wording to ask: I have no secrets that are all my own. I’ve told every last one to someone or other, and I regret it. Yeah, I love the feeling of sharing something really “juicy,” but I don’t get to have anything of my own. I want something of my own.
I pretend: (really well) that I’m an extrovert, but the truth is: if I could live in a cave with nothing but internet, food, and a few blankets, I wouldn’t think twice. I would be there.
I tell my parents that I hate it, but I really love swimming. I’m fat, and I hate the feeling of wearing a covering swimsuit, but am too self conscious to swim in a two piece. I can’t wait to get my own house with a pool, so I can just go nude.
I said I was with other people, but I was thinking that I’m just really sick of being your designated driver, having you and all of your dumb friends throw up out my window, and I’m sick of having to be responsible for you all the time; I can’t bear that burden anymore.
