the unworthy promise


It’s satisfying to take a personal piece of writing and tear it into tiny little pieces; to witness the disintegration of meaning as sentences are broken into their component parts, to let go of those pieces of paper, one at a time, leaving the words adrift, as they slowly lose whatever power we might have previously ascribed to them. Through this process, the internal and confidential become anonymous, the particular generic, and it’s in that anonymity that we find the comfort to let go and move on. But tearing up a letter doesn’t really destroy it’s meaning, it’s merely a complication. If someone curious enough were to look for and find all the pieces, putting a page back together wouldn’t be much trouble at all.