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#aliceinwonderland
Urgency Anxiety Always on time worried about being late punctuality is his pride Unlike everyone else in wonderland, illogical and carefree the white rabbit is always focused on deadlines and responsibility The white rabbit will catch up to you running on his time not yours letting you know you're at your deadline everything good falls in the end it is unavoidable he makes sure of it that stupid white rabbit.
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Mar 27
Mar 27, 2026 at 10:34 AM UTC
The white rabbit
I looked through the looking glass and I found myself look ing gla d . I looked through and I found my o l d self, my o l d d r e a m s , f u l f I l l e d .
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Mar 1
Mar 1, 2026 at 10:31 PM UTC
Looking Glass
I danced around the willow tree, creating cloud shapes from my fantasy. When a white rabbit brushes past my ankle, he carried a gold watch—odd—it clinked as he ran. “I’m late! I’m late! for a very important date!” he shrieked. I laughed, a rabbit? a gold watch? How absurd. He saw me, pausing like I’d ruined the script, and bolted away into a hole. And I followed, because what else do you do when curiosity sings? It was no hole indeed, a cassette channel surfing. The fall was painless, oddly confusing. Time bent sideways, logic’s refusing. Clocks—just like the rabbit’s—ticking too loud. Just like my brain. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. Which timezone, or timeline? Maybe a countdown. Who knows. Mirrors bloomed in the dark like wildflowers, All I could see was versions of me, in colors, in patterns, inside out, outside in. Each mirror shattered when I stared too long. Each shatter revealed a door with different dates, like an apartment number. I observed my reflection—finally, a normal mirror. But her eyes turned blood red, the glass breaking into laughter. Another door. I stepped through anyway, into the complex world that I am. The ground was a chessboard. The pieces were off. Pawns as people I’ve met. The queen is humming a melody only I know. The sky was a sunset of words of art I’d scribble. Spelling names I’d long forgotten. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes like hours. Alas, I met the rabbit after an eternity. He was still in the late panic, “late for what?” I pressed. His ears bent like a curtain, stepping sideways, There she was, the queen of hearts, waiting for me. her smile too wide, too eerie. “There you are!’ she exclaimed. Teapots and teacups floating, with wings of butterflies. An odd teacup met me. The tea with the glitter of the galaxies. “Drink.” She mouthed. Her eyes held a sharp glimmer. I couldn’t determine if it was an offer or a command. Instead of sugar, it was stardust. And for the tea, the shimmer called, like a hymn. Soul-glitter. Thick like my blood. Bright as my marrow. It was me, reduced to a cup. The gears in my brain shifted, just like the rabbit’s clock. Perhaps, to know myself. I must swallow myself whole.
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Jan 8
Jan 8, 2026 at 2:56 PM UTC
Wonderland
I danced around the willow tree, creating cloud shapes from my fantasy. When a white rabbit brushes past my ankle, he carried a gold watch—odd—it clinked as he ran. “I’m late! I’m late! for a very important date!” he shrieked. I laughed, a rabbit? a gold watch? How absurd. He saw me, pausing like I’d ruined the script, and bolted away into a hole. And I followed, because what else do you do when curiosity sings? It was no hole indeed, a cassette channel surfing. The fall was painless, oddly confusing. Time bent sideways, logic’s refusing. Clocks—just like the rabbit’s—ticking too loud. Just like my brain. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. Which timezone, or timeline? Maybe a countdown. Who knows. Mirrors bloomed in the dark like wildflowers, All I could see was versions of me, in colors, in patterns, inside out, outside in. Each mirror shattered when I stared too long. Each shatter revealed a door with different dates, like an apartment number. I observed my reflection—finally, a normal mirror. But her eyes turned blood red, the glass breaking into laughter. Another door. I stepped through anyway, into the complex world that I am. The ground was a chessboard. The pieces were off. Pawns as people I’ve met. The queen is humming a melody only I know. The sky was a sunset of words of art I’d scribble. Spelling names I’d long forgotten. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes like hours. Alas, I met the rabbit after an eternity. He was still in the late panic, “late for what?” I pressed. His ears bent like a curtain, stepping sideways, There she was, the queen of hearts, waiting for me. her smile too wide, too eerie. “There you are!’ she exclaimed. Teapots and teacups floating, with wings of butterflies. An odd teacup met me. The tea with the glitter of the galaxies. “Drink.” She mouthed. Her eyes held a sharp glimmer. I couldn’t determine if it was an offer or a command. Instead of sugar, it was stardust. And for the tea, the shimmer called, like a hymn. Soul-glitter. Thick like my blood. Bright as my marrow. It was me, reduced to a cup. The gears in my brain shifted, just like the rabbit’s clock. Perhaps, to know myself. I must swallow myself whole.
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Always forgotten Always dismissed Why can I hear my shadow hiss A vagabond through & through Finds solace in a tree that’s rotten None dare to enter the rabbit hole Yet, it seems I have no control Wonderland, wonderland Chasing echos that sound like commands Praying that it’s not too late But their eyes were already filled with hate -PM
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Nov 30, 2025
Nov 30, 2025 at 9:35 PM UTC
Wonderland
You say its all "Mind over matter" But I've misplaced my brain, Its no matter anyway, For ive got flowers in my veins! Most are in bloom and gorgeous, But those roses are such liars, Im scratched up on the inside, Pullin thorns out with pliers. And although it looks quite messy, I cant feel a thing, For how can I percieve this pain, When I still cant find my brain?! Did I stick it in the toaster? Did I drop it on the floor? Maybe The cheshire cat stole it. Just messin with my head, Im sure. But no, I do not mind, Cause nothing really matters. Im lost but im not late, Drinkin tea with the mad hatter.
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Apr 27, 2021
Apr 27, 2021 at 5:31 PM UTC
Alice?! Who's Alice?!
Slowly she began to fall down the rabbit hole learning about herself and what she believed in it wasn't so bad there that was when she decided to stay just a little longer
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Oct 23, 2020
Oct 23, 2020 at 3:00 PM UTC
Rabbit Hole
They call me the Cheshire Cat, that's my name. A creation out of Lewis Carroll's brain. I live in a in land of wonder you see, and store plenty of tricks up my sleeve. I'm a feline that can grin from ear to ear. I can also make parts of my body disappear. I am in love with irony and all its complications. I adore philosophy and erratic explanations. Speaking in metaphors, that's my intricate specialty. I'm not insane, I just live in a different reality. A reality that fulfills my immortal amusement. A world where I demonstrate my brash imprudence. Wonderland's espionage is a good title for me, eavesdropping on all there is, nestled in my tree. SHHHHH! I see a young girl approaching, she is coming closer. She looks alone and lost ......I wonder??... Curiosity can't **** this cat or make me fall. I am a bit mad, I dare say, but aren't we all?
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Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 6:28 PM UTC
Cheshire Cat Inc
I am the Hatter who is mad, they say. Gone around the bend in every way. A loon of the sorts who adores riddles and tea, drowning in a land of ecstasy. Come with me now! And please don’t fret! I’ll show you wonders you will never forget! I’ll show you heaven, hell, and everything in between, the moon, stars, spiraling galaxies! A magical realm where nothing is what it seems, rabbits in waistcoats and a vicious red queen. My home has an abundance of enchanted food and drink; when consumed it could make you grow tall or shrink. I am the mascot of this terrain. Everyone knows me by my name. So, let’s go and take my hand. To a place that Alice called Wonderland!
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Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 5:57 PM UTC
Mad Hatter Inc
Indeed, father! The Jabberwock is nigh!   I’ll go with my vorpal sword, his head will be no more and slay him down, will I! I’ll meet him in the tugley wood by the Bandersnatch domain. I’ll wait for him on the edge, for his head, I’ll come to claim. I have slain the Jabberwock, his body will decay! Let’s all meet by the Tumtum tree and rejoice this frabjous day! The slithy toves and mome raths all now well understood. ’ Twas brillig, it was Indeed, for it ended as it should.
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Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 2:38 PM UTC
Who Hath Slain The Jabberwock?
Falling down the rabbit hole Endless darkness engulfs me Is this my eternity? A back slams hard on the ground It must be mine My body vibrates from the impact Have I finally fallen back into reality? N O H E L P? Eating pills like candy Sweet and tangy as they glide down my throat Sunbathing on a mushroom Taller than a skyscraper Blisters cover my skin Smoking hookah With the butterfly's from my stomach The Pansies dwarf me as the tulips gawk Their shrill laughter coating my soul With a heart that's much too small I bask in white roses colored with my own blood joining the others in outcast
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Aug 16, 2020
Aug 16, 2020 at 10:41 PM UTC
angel down the rabbit hole
someplace else alice never bothered leaving. i know a thing or two about girls who jump rabbit holes — all dead eyes and ripped laces and cigarettes; there was no white rabbit to begin with. i know a thing or two about girls who run away from themselves. alice — a wildflower as they say: with limbs made of wilted dahlias, with wasps nesting in her chest — alice, has the cat not told you that one can only lay too much flowers on just a single grave — just a single hollow body, before they grow into forest of trees from where all your nooses hang? nonetheless, tiptoe and fall. this way to wonderland — this way to the rabbit hole, this way to the cemetery, this way to your eyes, to your chest, to your palms. has the fickle cat not told you that there was no white rabbit in the advent of your own apocalypse? this is your fairytale, sweet, sweet girl. light that cigarette and set yourself on fire, your mind already is hell anyway. and i know a thing or two about a girl who descended to hell — you are proserpina without the weeping. you are proserpina without the crown. but in someplace else, alice never bothered leaving. no one's waiting back at home, and no one's waiting to be found.
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Jun 28, 2020
Jun 28, 2020 at 3:13 AM UTC
alice in wreck
Some say that I’m as lost as Alice. So what. Are you really that callous? A lot also say I’m as mad as the Hatter. But if you really cared, it wouldn’t matter. I’ve also been told, that often my thoughts are in a different world. Because often time I like to sing and twirl. A few might say I’m a bit off when it comes to my head. But I just have a big imagination, at least that’s what my mom always said. And I’m often in a hurry, so they call me White Rabbit. But most of the time I’m late, its kind of a habit. I can also be a little crazy, and often considered as the Queen of Hearts. But I will also add, I make some wicked good tarts. But to be honest, I can go insane and smile like the Cheshire Cat. And when I get no sleep, I can be a brat. I feel lost and confused in reality. And it always makes me want to flee. So, because I’ve spent so long in Wonderland. Can someone please take me to Neverland?
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May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 2:25 PM UTC
My life is a fairytale
Alice! You’re falling down the rabbit hole! Losing yourself whole. All of your free time spent, Chasing this descent. You named this place 'Wonderland' You think it is so grand Just remember dear, We're all mad here!
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Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 1:46 PM UTC
alice!
He resided in wonderland where love was beautiful passion was peaceful and dreams were sweet - But he took a flight away, out of sight and that’s where he met me .
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Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 10:45 AM UTC
Hook
Is there a better tradition than Halloween? When I was a child, cloaked in the velvety darkness, The night felt like it was crackling with electricity, possibility. Swapping candy, riding the trailer, being out late on a school night; I realized from a young age nothing emboldens you like friends and the nighttime. When I was a freshman in college, I saw Rocky Horror for the first time. "Creature of the Night" rings in my ears as I Put on makeup, Take a swig of ***** Place on the final touches of my costume. Halloween becomes a blurred vision of masks, laughter, and kisses. Locking eyes across a room, I am more alluring as Daisy Buchanan Holly Golightly A fairy Mary Poppins Alice in Wonderland. They're all cute, animated, familiar, warm. Each day after Halloween is a sickly feeling, nausea from overindulgence I will always be emboldened by the night.
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Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 10:05 PM UTC
Halloween
he's always in a hurry terrified to die he wants to be everywhere in the shortest amount of time the eyes always on his watch                        tick tack - tick tack never sitting still always in motion not stopping, not breathing his life is running out of time
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Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 6:56 PM UTC
the white rabbit
As she fell down the wishing well, A stray thought wormed right in, “Who am I? Am I’m Alice? The one with travelled the Looking Glass? The one who fought the Jabberwocky? Or perhaps the one who lost her head? My own head feels a bit lost, So I must be her, falling down to reality.”
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Jul 8, 2018
Jul 8, 2018 at 11:42 PM UTC
Alice
Of the 364 un-birthdays, best occupied by your craziest , unthoughtful and refillable teaports, who rather like to celebrate year round with you, though uninvited, it would be wise you decline hosting the party too. "Well, why not? What's wrong with a Thinking party everyday?"    I hear you asking.  Is what they do best by default afterall -- one is naturally invited whether one likes it or not.   My reply would be "Mad Unthinking does not a party make!"   Unless you like going on hater shooting rampage.  Otherwise, battling the twinkle little tea trays hovering in your delusional sky is rather, shall I say, a pointless endeavor.  Far better you meditate on that. Luckily too, the only day they wont be celebrating is that one day on your special birth date.   Since it's the single time of year you're more than likeliest the happiest by design, among friends and families!   But why just limit it to a day in the entire calendar year?   You should "happily uncelebrate bad-everything " or "celebrate happily good-nothing" for the 364 days in your mind.  And all should be well.   Just remember, lift the tall hat and check under the hood, you may discover mad party always get you plenty of room.   But they merely recycle as a visage.  Chances are, you'd love to gate-crash and bring your best butter and bread knife to spread it all over time.  There's no "while" as they "mean", so to speak.   Especially when you are hangry and you had "nothing" yet, taking less is far healthier than filling up a buffet of nutrionless bad food.    Like clouds in the sky, let them go. About that Raven too.  They are just cryptic messenger going backward and forward with unintelligible riddles that will spin your too clever head to a nevar resting point.  The codename is analysis paralysis.   Akin to a kite in the sky, you can break the thread.   Otherwise, you may end up like Alice to steal time, beat time, pass time and may get lost in a treacle well with much surgarcoating and sentimentality. Only to wake up 2 hrs later than you should have, to reality around you.   So let it be known, and shed light into, the unknown parts of the 364 unbirthdays.  If you manage to go out, have some social bake and cake among humans now and then, you'll soon forget to uncelebrate them and lose all the over-muchness anyway.   That's my wish for you !
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Jun 9, 2018
Jun 9, 2018 at 2:59 AM UTC
My Unbirthday Wish To You
Of the 364 un-birthdays, best occupied by your craziest , unthoughtful and refillable teaports, who rather like to celebrate year round with you, though uninvited, it would be wise you decline hosting the party too. "Well, why not? What's wrong with a Thinking party everyday?"    I hear you asking.  Is what they do best by default afterall -- one is naturally invited whether one likes it or not.   My reply would be "Mad Unthinking does not a party make!"   Unless you like going on hater shooting rampage.  Otherwise, battling the twinkle little tea trays hovering in your delusional sky is rather, shall I say, a pointless endeavor.  Far better you meditate on that. Luckily too, the only day they wont be celebrating is that one day on your special birth date.   Since it's the single time of year you're more than likeliest the happiest by design, among friends and families!   But why just limit it to a day in the entire calendar year?   You should "happily uncelebrate bad-everything " or "celebrate happily good-nothing" for the 364 days in your mind.  And all should be well.   Just remember, lift the tall hat and check under the hood, you may discover mad party always get you plenty of room.   But they merely recycle as a visage.  Chances are, you'd love to gate-crash and bring your best butter and bread knife to spread it all over time.  There's no "while" as they "mean", so to speak.   Especially when you are hangry and you had "nothing" yet, taking less is far healthier than filling up a buffet of nutrionless bad food.    Like clouds in the sky, let them go. About that Raven too.  They are just cryptic messenger going backward and forward with unintelligible riddles that will spin your too clever head to a nevar resting point.  The codename is analysis paralysis.   Akin to a kite in the sky, you can break the thread.   Otherwise, you may end up like Alice to steal time, beat time, pass time and may get lost in a treacle well with much surgarcoating and sentimentality. Only to wake up 2 hrs later than you should have, to reality around you.   So let it be known, and shed light into, the unknown parts of the 364 unbirthdays.  If you manage to go out, have some social bake and cake among humans now and then, you'll soon forget to uncelebrate them and lose all the over-muchness anyway.   That's my wish for you !
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Mr White Rabbit Take me down To where the grass is greener And the Queens are meaner I'll follow you anywhere Down that Rabbit Hole Cerulean skirts and white lace petticoats I pout and I cry I sulk and I lie Eat me, drink me I don't know what to think But I do think That I pout and sulk and cry and lie Too much Pour me a drink Tea in a teacup Quibbles wrought in mercury Perhaps not retrograde But perhaps a renegade I believe in fairy tales I believe in tall tales I believe in animal entrails I believe, I believe, I believe In magic and in mythology Wonderland, oh, Wonderland Take me to Wonderland Let me wander through The Land of Wonderland Come with me Come down the Rabbit Hole
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Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 8:32 PM UTC
Wonderland
I had a heart then, but then the Queen drowned in a tea cup, overflowing with complacency. It’s delicate porcelain shape a study in the emotionless. A Jack of hearts slipped in, To steal it all away.
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Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 11:11 PM UTC
Heart
“Oh dear, oh dear”, exclaimed the rabbit “I’ve appeared to have lost it in this havoc!” He searched high and low Near and far, above and below. It wasn’t until the very last place he looked, That he found his poetry book.
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Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 2:59 PM UTC
The Rabbit
I have a Cheshire Cat Grin. Just as mad Just as eerie. I have a Cheshire Cat Smile, I'll coo to you in the wisps of your rage, "Oh, but didn't you know?" But you never knew You never knew, Did you? I have a Cheshire Cat Grin, Because I am just as mad, Just as eerie, Just as innocent, And just as deadly, Within the words, the stories I spin, The webs I weave. I have a Cheshire Cat Smile, And, Darling Dear, I'm Mad as a Hatter. Did you hear? Did you hear? The crash and the clatter? Did you see? Were you there? When all that red splattered? I am the Voice of the Trees at Night, I am the Whisper in Your Bones when Panic Takes Flight. I am the Cheshire Cat And honey, look at my smile. I am the C   H      E         S            H                I                  R                     E (They're burning in the fire!)                       C                    A                 T (What was that?) Feel the shiver down your spine, As the air of this toothy feline Makes you wonder Where does madness draw the line? Do you want the answer? Will you chance her? "Why is a raven like a writing desk?"*
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Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 10:15 PM UTC
It's Been a Long Time, Chesh'.
Queen of hearts, atop your throne. Who stole your tarts? You’re all alone. No one to hurt, and no one to love. Wherever you flirt, death will certainly come. House of cards, but no one’s impressed. No knights or bards, for you to distress. You broke all those hearts, but they weren’t enough. Now you’re breaking apart, and I’m calling your bluff. A beautiful palace, for no one to see. The whispers of Alice, “You’ll never be free.” So young and so restless, alone with your head. Alice is headless, but you’re truly dead.
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Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 11:20 AM UTC
Queen of Hearts
She grabbed her faux leather messenger bag, threw in 3 old band t-shirts, 3 pairs of underwear, 2 bras and a couple pairs of ripped skinny jeans, her Polaroid camera to take photographs of where she goes, a book, a journal to document her thoughts, a sketch pad, a package of Marlboro Red 100's, a lighter,  her iPod and some toiletries.  She didn't say anything, she just out and left. No note, no warning, nothing but her mess of a room.  She smiled at her room, her dream catcher, her poster-strewn walls, all of it. And she slipped out of her window.  'Goodbye,' She thought to herself and started walking.  But what she didn't know was she had just left her life and started a brand new one.  She was walking to the edge of oblivion.  She was shooting herself straight off a cliff, off of the safety under her roof, the safety of her bed, the safety of everything she left behind.  All she had was that bag.  17 items. That was her life. 17 items to keep her safe, 17 items to live on for the rest of her time.  For the 3 years until she was 18.  Until she could show her face in public again until she could be seen.  But until then, she was alone.  She sparked her lighter and lit up a cigarette.  All alone with her bag and a package of cigarettes. She sat down on the curb by the bus stop and began to draw.  And that was that.  She was lost in her mind. Her mind had run farther than she had. Because after all, we're                all                               mad                                                   here..
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Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 10:24 AM UTC
Goodbye Old Life
She grabbed her faux leather messenger bag, threw in 3 old band t-shirts, 3 pairs of underwear, 2 bras and a couple pairs of ripped skinny jeans, her Polaroid camera to take photographs of where she goes, a book, a journal to document her thoughts, a sketch pad, a package of Marlboro Red 100's, a lighter,  her iPod and some toiletries.  She didn't say anything, she just out and left. No note, no warning, nothing but her mess of a room.  She smiled at her room, her dream catcher, her poster-strewn walls, all of it. And she slipped out of her window.  'Goodbye,' She thought to herself and started walking.  But what she didn't know was she had just left her life and started a brand new one.  She was walking to the edge of oblivion.  She was shooting herself straight off a cliff, off of the safety under her roof, the safety of her bed, the safety of everything she left behind.  All she had was that bag.  17 items. That was her life. 17 items to keep her safe, 17 items to live on for the rest of her time.  For the 3 years until she was 18.  Until she could show her face in public again until she could be seen.  But until then, she was alone.  She sparked her lighter and lit up a cigarette.  All alone with her bag and a package of cigarettes. She sat down on the curb by the bus stop and began to draw.  And that was that.  She was lost in her mind. Her mind had run farther than she had. Because after all, we're                all                               mad                                                   here..
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