i propose a toast to the white rabbit
the one running around in the back of our minds
(with his ticking clock and screaming voice)
leading us towards madness
so name me alice because i choose to follow
falling further down the rabbit-hole
into a world that does not belong to me
but is a hell of a lot better than the one i am in
so let us raise our glasses to the madness
(and dance to the rabbit's ticking song)
before we all run out of time

the clock runs close to twelve
keep your shoes on your feet
(cinderalla, you are too naive
eating the poison apple without question)
do you want to stop your clock?
to have a choice to chase the rabbit away
and silence his screaming worries?
then wish upon a star and close your eyes tight
because you will never get rid of him
(late, late!)
we are running out of time, he says
run yourself into the ground, he says
(you never did like to listen, did you?)

("rapunzel, rapunzel, let down your hair
so i may climb the golden stair")
let me up into the tower you are closed in
allow me to enter upon your presence
and let me bring the rabbit with me
together we may follow him into the forest
with our easily-deceived minds and red cloaks
so we may go together into the madness
we will play his game and dance in circles
(but you do not really play anyone's game, do you?)

the clock's hands are moving rapidly now
we are running out of time, he warns
wake from your long sleep, useless beauty
and shake the transformation spell
from your cursed lover's heart
so that we may dance into the madness together
and that ****** white rabbit will have his way
perhaps then his voice shall finally be silenced
(and at peace we will be for once)
as he will no longer run around in our heads
for he will have already done his job

let us toast to this ****** white rabbit
thank him for releasing us from reality
and allowing us to fall into his madness
because it is better than the world
that everyone else seems to live in
and this toast will be our appreciation
for him leading us into something more
than just a terribly gloomy world
that is painted in only black and white
but the world which we are now in
is of all the colors imaginable
even those that do not exist
(but if they are present then
i do suppose that they exist?)
anyway, thank you, white rabbit
for letting me run myself into the ground
and find a madness that has change me
for the better
(i hope)

(but maybe you do not want to lift your glass)
in that case, rub your hand against a lamp
and hope for your three wishes
then maybe you will become a prince
(or a princess, but who really cares about gender?)
but then, you cannot rub that lamp
because you will ***** those sinless silver hands
(throw your prince against the wall,
because you will never accomplish anything)
your sloth-like heart will make you lose everything

now you are lost in your own mind,
did you forget your trail of bread crumbs?
do not fret over that lost trail
the white rabbit will fly you to an ageless land
(unless you have lost belief in magic
then you can live your life in a glass coffin)
dance, dance for the white rabbit
and say more nonsensical things with me
for there is no way out of this
so free yourself from all your worries
(hakuna-freaking-matata, right?)

red and white child of the Juniper tree
those golden apples are just out of your reach
so place a pea under your bed to prove you are alice
and either way i will blow that straw house down
(wear your heart in your head and your brain in your chest
but your courage will be lost in the lion's touch)
this white rabbit is not giving up
so dance again to his annoying ticking song
because you are half-way gone in madness
you climb up an invisible beanstalk
in search of that golden goose
filthy thief, search for the ax
to chop down your fears

i fear we are coming near to the end
and my name may not be alice
so before i go, i beg
please allow me to introduce myself
i sometimes go by the name
of Sir Nivens McTwisp

sometimes i like to think of nonsense
i guess if you know me it's not a surprise
did you know that potatoe almost rhymes with tomato?
does potatoe even have an 'e' at the end?
i honestly do not think it does
but who am i to judge the spelling of potatoe?
it can be whatever the hell it wants
or whatever i wish for it to be

maybe my head is really messed up
or maybe i just don't have anything else to say
because sometimes i mix up my words
("what do you mean i said the wrong thing?
i am pretty sure 'no' and 'ship'
mean the exact same thing.")

but i may also be completely normal
at least in the way my brain is set up
and maybe i just like to mix things up
because it takes a break from
my so exhaustingly uneventful life
so i guess i will just continue on
with thinking these random thoughts

because it's better than the pain
better than the memories
better than the words
that no one wants to say

it's better than those dreams
and the images in my head
because no one really wants
to think of those all the time
especially not me

after all
i'm just that girl
the one that sits alone
or that people sit with
just to laugh at
since she always says the wrong thing

i'm never anyone's second choice
maybe eighth or tenth or sixteenth
because who would want me?
the girl who ***** everything up
the girl who likes to speak her mind
(oh no, haven't you heard?
you can't have an opinion.)

I like to read the last words of things.

It can be from a letter, a book, a poem, or just a message. The first words have no appeal. Only the last words. Sometimes I feel as though they are supposed to wrap the entire writing together.

But what I love most is that they almost never do. There is no closure to anything in the last sentence. Nothing that ties everything together.

(If you want closure, you need to read the last few pages, maybe the last few chapters even; or the last few sentences/paragraph if you are reading a letter or text message or whatever.)

Closure is not what I am searching for. I guess I just like the last sentence (sometimes even the last three sentences) because it brings everything to an end. Not in a way where you can feel content with the writing. Just in the way that you know it is all over.

I cannot read something whole if I do not first read the last sentence. Completely unable. Because maybe it shows me that there is a point where I can stop reading. Maybe it tells me something that I have yet to figure out.

Perhaps, even, I have stored all of these last sentences in my head for future reference.

(Okay, that sounded silly even to me.)

There is not really a lot I can say to explain why I am so obsessed with the last sentence of something.

But I can say that sometimes this last sentence is so meaningful, so inspiring. And that is what I love about them, too.

Maybe I want to make the last sentence of this to be meaningful. If not to you, then to me. So I have decided, that the last sentence of this writing will be meaningful, probably only to me. Here goes nothing:

**** the world; I am Linds and I am better than everything and everyone, even you.

"wind beneath your wings"

I always found it to be such an odd phrase.

Meaningful, I guess, to some people.

But to me? *******.

Because when your wings finally break, you will think that I will be there to catch you. To lift you up and help you fly higher instead of let you fall.

The truth is that when that last feather is plucked and you begin to fall, I am just going to stop blowing and let you fall.

I will just watch as gravity brings you down and you fall to your death. Plummeting down until you are just a naked ****** bird on the side of the road (or maybe you will land on the roof of a car or in a bush or in the street, I do not know).

At one point, I will stop being there for you. I will be the one to blow you around until you cannot see straight and my powerful "wind" is the thing that eventually plucks all of your ******* feathers.

You know it is true, but you ignore it.

Because I was really the only one that was there for you.

And maybe you are trying to convince yourself it is not true. Why do this to yourself? I am no good for you. I build you up only to tear you down and smash you into a million pieces.

I am manipulative; I am a *****.

So heed my warning and stay away from me, because everything I touch is destroyed, and you have made me fall in love with you.

Do not make me responsible for burning you to ashes, please, I am begging you.

Or maybe you are the one who lied, who pretended.

Perhaps it has been you lying all along. You were once the wind beneath my wings, and now I am free-falling through the air thinking that you will ******* back up towards the clouds.

How foolish am I to think you are here?

No. When I hit the ground, you will be in the air watching your devilish work.

In the end, we are both just destroying each other--yet I cannot stop loving you.

it is funny how some people
do not realize they are broken
until it is far too late
for them to be fixed
(so, humpty dumpty,
can you mend yourself back together?)

i also find humor in the fact
that sometimes we don't even have time
to say a simple goodbye to those we love
so you should make the time now
drop whatever you are doing
and tell someone how much you care

because i watched her drown
her fingers slipped from my grasp
as the water dragged her under
eveloping her in its embrace
taking her further into its cold darkness
and when i jumped in to save her
she was not there anymore
just a shell with
glassy eyes
blue lips
pale skin
and not  a single goodbye

(did you say it yet?)