What belongs in the bottle
A confession here is not a spectacle. It is the thing you have been carrying: a kindness you never owned, a mistake you cannot fix, a want you have not said out loud. One true sentence is enough.
Leave out anything that could identify you or someone else. Names, workplaces, phone numbers, and links stay out of the water. The sea is gentle on purpose.
How anonymous it is
Tick “Send anonymously” on the writing desk and sign with a pen name, or leave it as Anonymous. Your Google name is not shown. Your email is never shown, even if you ask to be told when someone replies. That address is only used for the note, and the note has an unsubscribe link.
The letter itself is public: anyone with the link can read it. Write it as if a kind stranger will, because one will.
Confessions from the sea
When the sea has a confession that is long enough and gentle enough to quote, it shows up here without a name. Open one to read the rest, or to tie on a kind reply.
Nothing in this mood is on the shelf right now. You can still cast one, or pick up whatever the sea hands you.
When you are ready
A bottle holds up to 420 characters, about a postcard. Leave out real names and places. Write an anonymous confession, or pick up a letter someone else let go.