I know that there are more people who question life. I read books by people who try to answer at least some of the questions. I watch people on television and the internet who clearly try to do the same, but in real life, it is different. People generally don’t have a title hovering above their heads that cleverly promotes the questions they have and tries to answer. The people you are closest to might give you more insight into what is going on inside, but from my experience, I still have to speculate a lot. I have to admit that I will not open up to a random person, but if they want, they can learn a lot about me from what I have written over the last 20 years. I know that it would be strange if everybody poured their hearts out and started telling you their darkest secrets, but would it not be nice if we could at least admit that we all have questions and insecurities and that shame should not be a brake on going to the next level in your conversations, the level above chitchat. It’s like our naked bodies; we all hide them, though we all know what they look like.