About me
Shall I welcome you or not; it is up to you really. I don’t care anymore.
The name is P-chan or Miss Deckard: 27, manufactured and bred in Schleswig-Holstein/Germany and graduate from Goldsmiths – University of London. My favourite writers are Charles Bukowski, Bret Easton Ellis and Oscar Wilde. I like French philosophy. I don’t believe in God, and yet, I am agnostic. Rather than categorising myself, I prefer calling myself an individualist. I believe in karma, because I always feel strong connections to snails that I save from pathways. One night I stepped on one and almost cried. I can be misogynistic thanks to my paediatrician and my mates’ jealous girlfriends. You either trust me fully or you don’t. I am sociable but not always outgoing. I never take sides and prefer to keep quiet when I have nothing to say. I disagree with a lot things – but it doesn’t mean I tell everyone, only if I care enough – often I don’t. If you manage to get me talk 3-6 hours straight, then you have found a place in my heart. I’m not good with groups and I hate being in crowds due to a mild social anxiety disorder (, but watching good bands is different). My favourite bands are Nine Inch Nails, Darkest Hour, Killwhitneydead, Depeche Mode, Weezer and many more – they make me want to dance. My top three heroes are John Lydon (who taught me individuality), Trent Reznor (who helped me with anger management) and Charles Bukowski (who, like Lydon, taught me the values of honesty and endurance). On the inside I’m like Vincent Gallo (…), but I still treat people in a way they deserve to be treated.
I tend to think that I have no secrets at all, as I tell too much about myself and still people think there is something else. So here I am, revealing all my tainted writing – from personal issues to work-based documents. Writing is about exposure. There’s nothing I wouldn’t admit – just ask. The categories “fiction”, “poetry” and the blog itself primarily deal with emotions, thoughts, prejudices and flaws. Writing helps me to dump all this madness inside, but it always seems to come back and ask for more. I don’t think I sincerely enjoy writing; it’s just I have no choice. Just keep rolling the boulder up the hill, right?
So, yeah, “Terrible Lies”:
I chose this title because there is no proof whether what I write is undoubtedly true or not. You won’t know and sometimes I don’t know what I’m on about – the words just come out like that. There is hardly any truth in what we say, hear or see anyway. I have given up the search – it is a waste of time. And before I end up drowning in nihilism, I decided to stay as truthful as possible for my own sake and create meaning and purpose with my imagination and perception. Telling the truth means to me a lot. The more the truth hurts, the more you need to say it. I think that is the only truth that prevails upon us. (Though, please don’t break your mother’s heart.) Therefore we should use this chance to be offensive. John Lydon says ‘the truth is the most offensive thing in the world’. You don’t upset people by doing so, you are, in fact, helping them by challenging them. Seriously, how boring would you be otherwise?
You can lie as much as you want when you create a story: Writing lies that are able to reveal the truth about you and about anyone you love and despise. (Ironically it does hurt when people call me a liar.)
It’s escapism, as Graham Greene would say. And, at the same time you’re not escaping from yourself, you are, in fact, facing all your dark in your writing. If you can’t do it, you’re a coward.