Truth and Honesty
It may be viewed as a bit paradoxical: writing about truth and honesty while hiding behind a pseudonym. Or worse, hiding everything that could be linked to me.
At the same time, I share everything personal about my sexuality and mental health.
I’ve mentioned it before: I promote honesty. I’m a pretty lousy liar. My expression, my eyes give away everything. They show that I’m hiding something or try to come up with a different truth.
So what exactly is my truth?
Honest Blog Posts
On my blog, I speak honestly. What I say has happened to me, has indeed happened to me. What I struggle with emotionally is true, unfortunate as it may be.
I leave out bits and pieces that are too personal or too painful to talk about in an online blog. Things more painful than parental suicide? Yes, there are. That’s my choice in how I want to handle and maintain my truth.
My reviews are true. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have the right to exist. The pictures you see are mine and what I write about the product is accurate. Not everyone likes my truth, but it is what it is. If you can’t handle it, tough luck.
My fiction is true. Wait, what?
No, nothing that happens in my fiction is based on actual facts. I mean, I enjoy what I write about, and it’s true to my person. The story has to work for me, has to fit in my truth.
No, I don’t believe all women should be turned into bimbos and lose all right of power. But the idea of letting go of responsibilities and focus everything on a life of sex intrigues me.
My stories are weird, quirky, and there’s always something off about them, something wrong. Do you know why?
Because that’s what my life, my world has always been. My life has never been a happy happy joy joy kind of tale, so how could I possibly write about such a thing? That’s not true. It’s not possible. In my mind, a perfect happy ending is more improbable than my constructed world of modified bimbos or a sex doll coming to life.
Fiction is for me an escape from reality, but it’s gotta be relatable to my kind of reality. My fantasies are dark, and there’s gotta be something wrong for it to work for me. I don’t want any lovey-dovey love stories by Harlequin.
So that’s my weird, convoluted truth. I don’t share everything. I don’t update my Twitter feed with every anxiety attack or bad night of sleep. However, I do share my blog posts, reviews and my dark works of fantasy. If you like it, you’re welcome. If not…