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How did you end up here? I came on purpose - I love it here! By accident - and now I am leaving! By accident - but I will have a look around . . . Searched for sites relating to Alice Searched for riddles Found the link somewhere Other . . .(leave a comment) View results Version 2.02

Here you will find some of my poetry and random lyrics that I write to combat the Madness that consumes me in this place...

How about some nursery rhymes to pass the time ... Maybe it will lighten things up a bit round here.

Here you will find archived passages into my soul as I describe this Waste Land known as Wonder Land.

Entry 1:
I don't know what the date is. Nor do I really care. I could probably find out what day of the month it is but not the time of the day, nor day of the week, nor the month of the year. That is just the way it is around here. But that could change tomorrow depending on what day it is. Then we get back to the argument that one could only find the day of the month not the day of the week and some how I think that matters when discussing the rules of the day. Oh! I am rambling again. Like a mad man. Oh . . . but I am not mad. Am I?

Fare thee well,

Entry 2:
I am cold. I have never really noticed the temperature before. But I am definitely cold now. Being cold makes me sleepy but I can't sleep. If I sleep I dream and those dreams will not keep me warm.

Leaving now. Got to get warm.

Entry 3:
Have you ever met the Queen? What a raving B*tch. If there was a record for how many heads can be ordered to be chopped of in one day she would definitely win (far more than the French revolution!). She has absolutely no tact, nor patience for that manner. She is like a bovine with Mad Cows disease. I must put her out of her misery. That day will come soon enough.

Until later, (or earlier as it might be)

Entry 4:
Have you ever had tea? I mean good tea. Not that Ice Tea everyone seems to drink. I mean good English Tea. I am quite fond of tea. It keeps me warm. Must make sure its caffeinated though. I have to stay awake. I have to be alert. I can't trust anyone. Not even that Damn Rabbit who so conveniently disappears when the fray begins. I have never seen a more yellow belly creature! Then he complains to me that we are late! How dare he. We wouldn't be so late if I didn't have to do everything by myself. Oh! he just makes me so angry!

I must go now, I am late!

Entry 5:
Who is real? Are you sure your not a figment of my imagination? Do you honestly believe I am a figment of yours? Walking cards could be real! I mean you people are so into your virtual lives in games or here on the net. How do you know that your not the made up ones? Its only when you question reality that you get the most out of it.

Until our realities cross again.

Entry 6:
Everyone has an addiction what is yours? I mean we start out with them. Whether it is our mothers breast or a bottle we are addicted to it. That is why pacifiers were invinted. They pacify our addictions. If you know of your addiction what is your pacifier? My addiction is my imagination and my pacifiers are the dreams I have to escape my reality. Right now I don't know wich is worse my life or my dreams?

Until I dream again,

Entry 7:
What do you dream of? They say our dreams are a result of our subconscious trying to speak to us about things in our conscious world. If thats the case then you can tell my conscious world is pretty scary. But what do you do when everything you know has been taken from you? I only wished to be a child again. To have my parents back. Look where I ended up! Back to that story book setting that has grown as demented as I. I wonder if I somehow did this. If this is all my fault. If Wonder Land is somehow rotten because of the rot with in me. Am I just fighting my self?

I hope at least one of us has plesant dreams tonight,

Entry 8:
When the night comes what do you fear? Is it being alone? Is it that person coming home? Is it yourself? I fear my self. I fear what I may do to me. I fear the truth that I may see if I awake from this state. Is it true if you die in your dreams that you die in real life? I fear that I am already dead by my own knife.

Until I die again,

Entry 9:
There is an emptyness inside of me. A hole that can not be filled. A gap in my chest where something has been ripped out. Something lived there before. But now it is gone. If only I could find it. If only I knew what I was looking for.

Until I find it,

Entry 10:
Why does the sun shine? Why does it have to go on shining when it is so dark in my world? So dark in my mind. So dark in my heart. It hardly seems fair to redicule me and taunt me with that bright shining light. It is pointless to argue with an enemy I can't fight. So I will put my time to better use.

Until the sun sets,

Entry 11:
When you lose someone you love it can drive you into a state of dilerium (sp). I wonder sometimes if I am there. Or did I dream about their deaths? and is this my true reality? Am I an orphan now or was I from the start? Did I let them down. Was it my fault? I won't let them down again. I've got what it takes to defend this place. I've got what it takes to defend myself. Even if I have to do it all by myself. Is this my pennance (sp) for my sins? If so then I accept my fate only because I control it! It does not control me! I don't want to be among mad people!!!

Until I make more sense,

Entry 12:
As the days go by things just get curiouser and curiouser. Maybe that is because things are starting to make more sense. Time flies because it has wings. Time draws out the day because it has hands and likes to draw. Time had a face but I broke it. Oooops sorry. I figured if I was all cracked up so should he be. (All cracked up that is.) Time slowed after that but he never stopped. He took a lickin and kept on tickin.

Until next time, (there is always another/next time)

Entry 13:
Ohhhh Lucky number 13! What is in luck anyway? Am I lucky that I seem unlucky? In the fact that if luck was on my side I wouldn't be here but I am here and I don't really mind being here so does that mean I am lucky to be unlucky? Where was luck when they died? Where was she when those other children were driven insane by Wonder Land? Are we forgotten? Are we lost? Or are we just lucky to be unlucky?

Until my luck runs out again,

Entry 14:
How is the moon like the sun but the sun nothing like the moon? How is a lake like the ocean but the ocean nothing like a lake? How can an imagination be like a delusion but a delusion nothing like an imagination? Am I dying to live or living to die? When do you out grow your stuffed animals? When is the Moon no longer made of cheese and when does the ocean stop being endless? When did having an imagination turn into having delusions?

Until I imagine you again,

Entry 15:
I take great pleasure in my skills and accuracy when defeating the card guards. Its my own game of solitaire and I always come out the winner. Who is going to argue with a girl who has a large sharp knife in her hand and a hint of madness in her eyes? Its my game and I play by my rules. If that includes slicing you in half while I laugh then so be it. If you do not take pride or pleasure in your work then what is the point of it? Why do it? Why let it drive you mad if your not willing to go along for the ride? Its so much easier if you do not fight it. Am I making sense here? Do you understand what I am saying? Is it not all just a game?

Until we play again, (I promise I will play nice!)

Entry 16:
This is for that special someone who I wish I could find and kick their ass! In between my delusional states and being locked in the cell at my asylum I create this page. This means that this takes up most of my free time and I put a lot of my self into it. (That also means if it hasn't been updated in a while it is because I am either dodging exploding acorns in Wonderland or I am locked in my straight jacket.) Since this is my only form of creative expression that keeps me at least partially sane I take great pride in it. Nothing makes me want to carve someones eyes out with a spoon like people stealing from me.

What do I mean you ask? Well take a look at this page, and this one.

Does it look familiar? Try looking at my home page here and at the top journal entry listed on this page! If you want to send him some comments on the lack of creativity his email address is mkimptonm@aol.com . He asks for comments and suggestions so don't be shy!!

Until I am stolen from again,

Entry 17:
No, I am not crazy. The links above did work and there really was a guy who was copying me. Well maybe I am crazy but he was real! I promise!! It seems as though he has suffered the wrath of Alice and his page has been sliced and diced to the point of no return! Let this be a lesson to all of you!! Don't copy me!! Plus if you did you would just sound crazy!

Until my insanity reigns again,

Entry 18:
It is so hard to keep going when you know the end is near. The sadness keeps growing soon to be replaced by fear. I want to make it to the end but I feel I will have lost a friend. That is what this madness is to me. It is my friend. It keeps me company when I am down and makes sure I am never lonely. Not that one with this many voices in her head could ever be lonely. If one day it were to all be gone I think I would feel more lost that I do now here in this place called cyber space, called alternate realities, called games, and books, and imagination oh I mean delirium. In all that which is reality but not truely real. That is where I am. That is where I want to be. Here is where I will stay!

Until my loneliness strikes again,

Entry 19:
I need inspiration to keep going. I hate these introspective times. When the doctors ask questions that just bring back bad memories. It hurts worse than any knife could. Worse than any insane Queen could be to me. I wish she would chop my head off then these memories would no longer haunt me. I need friends they say but they won't let me out of here long enough to make one. Like I have choices in here. I need to find someone like me. Is there any such person out there? I can't be the only one. That would hurt worse I think. To find out that I am all alone in my madness.

Thank you for caring enough to read my thoughts,

Entry 20:
Yes, your right I haven't written in a while and I apologize for that. I have been stuck in this melancholy state for so long. It's about time I got off my bum and got back in the game! My concept of time is lax so forgive me. Its hard to count the days when there are no nights and vice versa! I intend on continuous updates and escapes into my thoughts as long as you continue to visit. I love it when people talk to me so please leave me messages in my guest book or on my message board. It gives me purpose and substance in the virtual world and that is something I am severely lacking in! I heard Easter past. Its hard not to hear it when rabbit is screaming as he is running from the insane children. It is funny when my worlds collide. Oh, how I love to take you for the ride!

Please don't leave me alone in this tiny box!

To the next entry

Pick a favorite and tell me about it in my guest book!

Entry 21:
There are times when there is absolutely nothing going on and I sit in a daze for days, day dreaming in my night dreams then there are times where I am so involved in what is going on around me that I forget to breathe. It is worst when I experience these two extremes within the same day. Is that bipolar? Ack ack ack - I hate those medical terms the doctors use to try to give a name to my "problem". Why do we as humans have to name and diagnose and investigate, and intrude on everything? I think that is a disease of the obsessive compulsive humans that make up the outside world. Why not live and let live? No, we can't do that now can we? We have to interfere with everything else then we assume we know what's best and sooner or later some kid shoots up his class room because someone teased him!!! What kind of world is it out there that this sort of thing could happen? I much prefer my padded walls and the hushed voices of the world in here. No, I don't have to worry about a mad man carrying a gun because no one here would pick on him. We are all mad.

I just love a fresh page!,

Entry 22:
Self confinement is what they call it. They say I put my self here. I say I was driven here. Is this where I want to stay they ask? As if I could ever call their world my own. At least in here I know who my enemies are. You know your not paranoid if people really are after you. But that is neither here and definitely not there. As if I care where is where. As if here and there were anywhere but in my head, in your head. We create everything we see. Our mind was trained to recognize things a certain way but what if they were never meant to be seen like that. What if red is really blue and green is really orange but we grew up all our lives thinking different. Sounds like fun to me!

I personally think pink should be called taupe just cause it sounds neater,

Entry 23:
So they say today is a new day. How could that be? You see - they are all the same to me. Same walls, same ceiling, same door. Same pills, same doctors, same inmates. It is just the same day repeating its self over and over again. Only my dreams vary from day to day. Come to think of it I don't even think the food changes. Nor the weather. It is always rainy, always drizzling. The hands on the clock haven't moved since I can remember. It is perpetually 3:00. At least it is right twice a day. Random thoughts, random thoughts, random thoughts. String them together they might form a sentence and eventually a paragraph. They (the doctors) tell me this is therapeutic to write. I think it is fun. But my time is limited so I have to go . . .

I was just told it is 3:00. But, it is always 3:00.

Entry 24:
I got into trouble for drawing on my self today. They took my pens and ink away. What would be a better canvas than your own body? You would be your own walking advertisement. Our physical appearance really says so little about who we really are. We didn't get to choose our physical appearance so most spend their lives trying to copy someone else's, or tweak it a little here, or a little there to make it somehow better. But that still isn't who we are now is it? You can't tell how intellectual someone is by their breast size or the color of their hair or eyes. But if they had a bit of poetry they wrote tattooed on a part of their body then that would be something you could judge a person by. Then again I could be crazy. At least that is the excuse they give me for locking me up in this padded cell.

I'd have a tatoo of wings so I could fly.

Entry 25:
I like to feel useful, like I have a purpose. I want to know that someone cares if I am gone and that I have a job to do. I guess that is why I love doing this site. It is my purpose in life outside of killing the evil Red Queen. When I see your emails or your quips in the guest book it makes me feel worthy of the task that has been set before me. I am looking to do new stuff to the site so if you have suggestions please let me know. The crazier the better just know that I am a very busy girl dodging card guards and all so the changes might not happen as quickly as I might like them to.

Living and loving it,

Entry 26:
Like a thousand needles stabbing me in the heart. That is what it is like to remember. I remember my first trip to Wonder Land and I remember how wonderous it was. But now it is twisted and I can't help but think I am to blame for that. They tell me it is all in my head but how can anyone else know what I see and feel. I know that I am there. I know that I have a mission and I know that I am the one who must do it. The nightmare oh the nightmare. A black horse to ride away on that is what a nightmare is to me. This this wonderland is more than a nightmare. As sad as it makes me I am almost happy to be here. It's an addiction. Every addiction needs a pacifier and that is what this site is for me. It helps to pacify me otherwise I would still be in that catatonic state. I would still be locked away out of my own doing. I wanted nothing to do with this world. I wanted no longer to be apart of it. I have my own. But, I am here now. I am living, breathing, being. I heard once that we become humandoings rather than humanbeings. This is my being time. I am here. Funny thing is that even here doesn't exist.

Does it?

Entry 27:
Its been so long since I have had the opportunity to write to my journal. Its like visiting an old friend. A friend that is always in the back of your mind waiting and watching your redundant life knowing you will come back to it some day. Knowing that you are obsessed with it and your heart is never really far away. It is an addiction that I have to feed and when I have been with out it for so long I feel empty. I feel like a shell that someone else is animating. With un-focused eyes and lifeless limbs. I go through the daily actions with out feeling. Take this pill, drink this concoction, tell me what you see here. Are you even listening? No. Am I a lost cause? You tell me. Your the doctor. Why do I feel the way I do? Isn't that what your fancy degree is for? To tell me what is wrong with me? How can you even possibly think that you know anything about me or what troubles me? You do not see the horrors that I do every time I close my eyes. You go home to your wife and children at the end of the day. This is just your job. This is just my LIFE! Oh, I'm sorry. Did I go off on a tangent there? I am told that it is the end of yet another year here. I am sure it has been to many to count if only I could remember.

Please forgive me. I love you all. I need you all. I miss you my friend.

Entry 28:
Ramblings . . .
And this is where it all begins. The beginning of the end and the end of the beginning. The start of something old and the end of something new. A step apart from the rest just to be in step with someone else. This is the way it is from day to day and the way it will always be. I want to be you and you want to be me. To bad we can see what it is that we like about ourselves rather than the dislikes others point out to us. Maybe just maybe the world would sing a little off key but we would all be singing and that would be beautiful.

Sing with me

Entry 29:
They say change is good. They say change is inevitable. When I feel it coming it mixes a bit of anxiety with a bit of excitement. I can feel it in the air like static electricity pulsing around me becoming ever more intense with the lightening caused by the storm of change. I hate it yet I embrace it. I welcome it even though it frightens me. Like a pill I would rather swallow it whole than chop it up into little bits just prolonging the inevitable. I am ready for it. Ready as I will ever be. All I hope, all I pray is that it strengthens me to fight another day, that it re-energizes my soul, and that in the end I am all the better for it.

Entry 30:
When is war good? Only in the history books of the wining side does it ever get a postive view. Is there a reason why many of the games that are currently out have to do with civilizations overcoming one another or acting as God and controlling peoples lives on either a one on one basis or by groups of worshipers. Even still there are those games where it is you against the world (most first person shooters) and the biggest gun or fastest mouse is the only way to the top. When it comes down to it how many times do we step into the shoes of the foe we are defeating? Is it possible to look at war objectively any more when no matter how big or small the outsiders are they are now affected directly by what the waring entities are doing. Is it ever the case where one side is absolutely right and the other is absolutely wrong? I guess it just depends on what side your on. I guess I am on my own - and since it is lonely here my battle is to get you to join me.

Won't you join my cause?

Pick a favorite and tell me about it in my guest book!

Entry 31:
My hands are red. They are always red. I clean and clean and they are still red. Red stains and never goes away. The stickyness is still there as well. The red sticks to my hands, sticks to my heart, sticks to my soul. Sticky stains stain my mind. My mind welcomes it, yearns for it. For it covers up the black. The black that eats away at my thoughts. All I remember is the black sometimes. Then I see the red again. The red never goes away. The red stains. And nothing gets the stains out.

Cleanse me . . .

Entry 32:
What starts on the ground, rises high to the sky, then falls again? Other than my mind and its perverse way of turning me upside down and inside out the answer is rain. Maybe that is why we are so sad when its raining. After floating in the sky as beautiful clouds being painted by the sun it falls back to the ground to be dirtied by us and the earth itself. What a horrid existance. To know a high as high as the sky only to be cast out of heaven back to the earth again. Maybe that is why I enjoy the rain. It confirms that my existance isn't so bad.

I'm only happy when it rains . . .

Entry 33:
And so they say that to pray everyday is to be closer to God. But who hears your fears inside your head when your strapped to your bed and there is a muffle in your mouth. The screams it seems wake the rest from their rest and we can't have that said the cat. So here I lie in a lie waiting to hear the goodnights and goodbyes so I can face it again all alone. With that said the voices in my head come to greet me and away they take me back to what I now call home.

Won't you follow me . . .

Entry 34:
My head aches, my heart aches, my soul aches. I ache for the world. The tears of Wonderland shall drown me in my sleep. They rain so deep. The hurt and sorrow of yesterday carries on tomorrow and today we get by with a lie about who we really are and where we really want to be. Yet it is so obvious to see that whether we are here or there the sadness is carried with us. We make the bed we lie in. We reap what we sow and we weap what we grow when it dies because we cared for it too much or too little. Humans are such fickle animals. We only care when we need to be cared for and then it is too late.

Won't you care for me . . .

Entry 35:
There is nothing that can destroy a life like the loss of a loved one. Whether it be by death, or separation. You suddenly realize that there is this hole that was never there before. It is as bad as if it where left by a bullet but worse. Simply because you are still alive and you have to live with that hole in your heart. Some people choose to fill it with things that would make them less than who they are with addictions too perverse to describe here. Others become a shell of their former selves living in self pitty and still others choose to go out in life with the purpose of making others feel their pain. Every once in a while a seed is planted where that hole is and a whole new person blooms. That is the flower that finds the sun in their darkened days and only becomes stronger because they had to fight to survive. It is the beauty that is hidden until one day they are noticed. Take the time to stop and smell the roses. You might find one longing to be found.

Pick a flower, hold your breath, and drift away . . .

Entry 36:
I just love it when people tell me its all in my head. Isn't everything all in our heads. How do we know that anything is real. Where is that defining line between reality and delusions? Just because you can't see what I do doesn't mean it doesn't exist. Maybe all I am is the scared voice of a little girl in your head and your really locked up in here telling some doctor about me. So before you question me and my existence question your own. It is only through questioning our own reality that we can step outside it. When you can truly be objective about your own existence then you can truly live. Once you realize you are but a tiny tiny tiny piece of this gigantic world then you will realize how important you really are. We might be small but the effect we have on the world and others around us is HUGE.

Our actions and reactions are our choosing - choose wisely . . .

Entry 37:
The doctors took away my medication today. Why is it that you are given something just long enough to get used to it, to get addicted to it, to yearn for it before it is taken away? They let you have a taste then tell you that you can't have it. Now this burning inside of me aches for it. I want it, I need it! Let me have it just one more time! That is all I ask. But, still they say no. So I turn to you the only medication I have now. Your quiet words soothing me. So, when are you going to leave me? Everyone else has. I need you now more than ever . . .

One more medicated peaceful moment . . .

Entry 38:
Laying face down in a sea of discontent I am content to stay here. Let the water rush over me and spread my thoughts across the sea. Let loose my demons to drown here with me. To end it all and take the final fall. To plunge into darkness, to dive into the sea, will you ever let me be? Lying here in a sea of my own tears. To drown in my own sorrow, to drown in my own fear, to never know tomorrow, nor see another year. But it is you I think of as I lie here prentending this is the ending to my story. As the water receeds I believe I can make it through and I owe it all to you.

Thank you,

Entry 39:
I woke up this morning and there was hair all over my bed. They say I did it. They say it was me but I don't remember it. The scisors were found under Rabit in my bed. They say I hid them there they say I did it on purpose. But she was trying to chop off my head I tell them. They say I am making it all up. They say it is my over active imagination. Forced projection onto another when it is really my self. But, I didn't do it. I tell you it wasn't me! But the strands of hair lie around me like the feathers of a malting bird. Then I start to doubt my own reality. When you start to doubt what your very own senses who do you trust? Who do you trust if you can't trust yourself?

I'll try to keep my self away from myself and me,

Entry 40:
Sleep - your relief from being awake all day and all your daily things. A time to rest your weary mind on a pillow of content and love. A time to dream beautiful dreams of how life should be based on how life is. Who would have known that such a peaceful thing could turn into something so menacing, so diluted, so dilusional? Cats and rabbits and mice oh my such cuddly cute creatures out to destroy you. Speaking in riddles, orating in rhyme, dissertating with out reason, punishment without crime. What did I do yesterday to deserve this present today and the sorrow tomorrow? Why do they haunt me and taunt me? Am I the cause for all of this? Did I make this land into the desolate place it is today?

I am so sorry,

Entry 41:
It's time for skool dear. Time to get up! The curtains open, uniform folded perfect on the stool, books stacked on my desk, homework neaty stacked and finished. I get up. Slip into my uniform, take care of my personal hygene because its important to be clean. Cleanliness is next to Godliness and we all want to emulate God. I collect my books and walk out side. The door closed behind me and then the fire rages. The fire burns bright and deep and I throw my books down and try to get back in. But they won't let me back in. It won't let me back into the fire. It won't let me save my parents. It won't let me die with them. Then I remember they are gone. I remember I was in there with them and I ran out. I remember I was scared, I was but a little girl but I left them there. Left them there to die. I ran and I ran and I ran. The found me miles away cold in my gown in the rain with Rabbit in my hand and Dana by my side. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. IT WASN'T FAIR!!!

The fire rages on . . .

Entry 42:
The answer to the Universe . . . look it up!

42,

Entry 43:
Time used to be a friend of mine until one day he said to me "you waste too much of me!". I replied "well the time I waste is my time to waste" and he replied "I was never and will never be yours for I was here long before you were and will continue long after your gone!". I replied "well how does one know time if there is no device to tell time by! For my clock broke long ago and as far as I now you are only 3!" Apprently by this time he was fed up with me!

Some think its time to do me in - yet I'm still ticking,

Entry 44:
time to shine time to play time to pray time to cry time to rise time to rest time to take the test time to let it go time to lose it time to find it time to mind it time to save it time to crave it time to see it time to be it time to myself

Too much time to my self

Entry 45:
Suffocating, gasping for air grasping for reality to come back to me. Searching seeking for that which I have lost though I didn't know I was losing. Reaching racing to the finish line. Life is a race you don't win by finishing first. Standing still watching them run past. On hands and knees my insides pouring out. Aching asking why?

Faith in the forgotten, - for to forget is to lose what you had already won.

Entry 46:
I hurt all over. My entire body aches. But the pain that disturbs me the most is that in my heart. It takes over my body and dulls all my other senses. My sterile world in this assylum becomes even less flavorful as to taste and to smell and to see seem gone to me. I inflict injury to my own body to feel something different but it does not work. Because of this unless I am drugged I am tied to my bed. That is why I have been absent for so long and all I can do is ask for your forgiveness and warm words left for me to keep me coming back. This is my one link to the outside world. My one lingering thought that I am not alone. That there are others out there that share my pain and are drawn to comfort me as I would comfort them.

If you love me I will love you back

Entry 47:
My mind is blank and it is the drugs I thank. I search hard to remember but what I forget. I look to see but see nothing. Someone calling in the distance. Their words seem to make sense but somehow I can not understand a word they are saying. I try to stand but my legs fail me. So I sit here wondering what it is I am being kept from. Where am I supposed to be? Someone needs me. But who? Someone out there is looking for me but I must find them first. Please help me. Help me remember...

Knowledge is Power

Entry 48:
It's days like this that I wish the fire had taken me. For it has left me in this shell of a person with only memories to fill the emptiness that envlopes me. In a world so dark that even shadows dare not enter. My eyes always searching for the light I feel I have lost forever. Although I am often lost in my loneliness I occasionally find company. In that company I find companion souls reaching out to me as I do to them. That connection piercess my darkness. Although it is but a small light it fills a bit of the void. Enough to keep me hanging on and coming back.
All I can say is ... thank you,

Entry 49:
Have you ever found yourself wishing to be in a place that just doesn't exist? A place in yours or someone else's imagination that you some how feel you belong. A place that were it real you assuridly would have been a part of it? Why is it that we want these fantasies to become our reality? Is it because there is something missing in our day to day lives that we feel would be fulfilled were we a part of something else? Is it the thought that we just want something different? Or is it that our reality, that which we live every day, is just too much and we have to escape it some how?
Why can't we be happy with who we are?

Entry 50:
Wow number 50! Fifty times I have told you my sad story in one form or another. Let you in on my illness, my fears, my fun, my madness. You have seen me go from one extreme to another yet you have stuck with me the entire time. That doesn't include those of you who are new. Yet, I welcome you none the less to be apart of my humble story. It's just a story of a girl- living in this world same as you. The things I fear are no less scary than your own fears. The challenges I face are no more challenging than your own challenges. We are the same, yet we are different, but we are all characters playing the part we were given. Thats the great thing about impromtu you can do whatever it is you want to! Today all I want to do is listen to you.

Continue to the Current

Here you will find passages into my soul as I describe this Waste Land known as Wonder Land.

Entry 51:
All in your head

night speaks
falling further
into the madness
into the furor
darkness ahead
waking frozen
eyes won't open
walking dead
kiss the queen
down on your knees
off with your head
its just a game
driving you insane
wake in your bed
just lie there
blank stare
i know your in there
too scared to come out
too scared to stay
too scared to say
its all in your head

Or is it all in mine?

Entry 52:
Take these ties that bind me to this madness, these threads of my soul, these tethers to my bed, these loose thoughts in my head. See if you can make sense of it for me because I am at a loss. Confusing, amusing, choosing, whats worth losing. This mortal coil, the physical toil, makes my blood boil. Who holds the key and what is the fee for gaining control? Should I pray on my knees and beg you please? Just tell me my toll for keeping my soul.

It's always our choices that take us where we want to be - its called free will and responsibility!

Entry 53:
Frozen in this state of madness, looking for a familiar face, but all I see are children that are as maligned as I. Searching in this desolate place only leads to more questions. Questions I can' t comprehend. Questions that never end. The answers rest in locked minds. Keys safely lost amidst the sown mouthes and sightless eyes. My only hope is that I do not turn out like them. I pity them and detest them in the same thought. Let them only be a part of this delusion and not a reflection of me.

Bid my blood to run, before I come undone. Save me from what I might become.

there's just nothing left inside . . .

Entry 54:
To live through death - to die through life - to give while wanting - to trust while being decieved. To be broken - to be lost - to be starved. To stand here naked before the world - here are my flaws - my scars. I have nothing to hide - nothing to show - nothing to keep - nothing to let go. So take it all. You know you want it. I give it to you so you don't have to steal it. It's already broken so you don't have to worry about breaking it. No need to be gentle, no need to be soft, if you feel the need to rip it out by all means do so. At least then maybe I'd feel it.

Maybe I'd feel something . . .

Entry 55:
Eat me - Drink me - Swallow me up - Just to spit me out - Cause you don't like the taste in your mouth. You told me to be bigger - so I was bigger - then I was too big. You told me to be smaller - so I was smaller - then I was too small. You asked me to play the game - but didn't tell me the rules. Why keep me captive when you don't want me here? Why hold me down? It's because you don't want me to go anywhere else. Yes that's it! You don't want me but you don't want anyone else to want me either. So in your misery you keep me for company.

Can misery truly love at all?

Entry 56:
To lose something is fine, it's out of your mind. But, what happens with that something is you? Sometimes it hurts to live. But, you do - because you have nothing else to do. You then just watch those around you - slowly become something more. You can't think about the might have beens, the would'ves, the could'ves, the what ifs. That's a path you will never come back from once you start down it. So you don't think about it. Soon enough you don't think at all. Numb to everything, everyone, even that person there in the mirror. You can say you've survived. But, for what?

What if . . .

Entry 57:
Can you taste it? The dampness in the air. The thick heavy smell of the hospital. Smells of cleaners, and ether, and the mad. Did you know the mad have a smell? It's fear and lust and envy and hurt and spite and insanity all rolled into one. Oh yes they have a smell. It clings to you, to your hair, to your pillow, to your bunny laying in bed beside you. And you can't do anything about it. Stuck here, tied to the bed eyes staring at the ceiling. You've counted all the cracks and even made them dance for you. So, what do you do now? You notice things like the smell. The smell of a hospital full of mad people. You can truly tell when someone is here that doesn't belong. As their scent rides along on top of the rest, teasing us of an outside world. Tempting us with sweet perfumes and colognes and the smell of tea and rain. Almost enough to make you want to take a bite. Just a nibble. Just a taste of what the outside world has to offer.

Your new here aren't you . . .

Entry 58:
You take away the only thing I have left, my words. You take them, you butcher them, you try to make them your own. You flatter me - but - in that flattery - you hurt me and make me feel all the more alone. These words are my company, my solace, my sanity. You don't even say where you got them from. So, there is no way for them to return home. They might just be words to you but, everyone of them is a piece of me. When you take them from me what do I have left? What am I? but an empty shell with nothing left to share. Do you not feel the slightest pain when you are complimented for something that is not truly your own? I did not start writing this journal yesterday. It has been in the making for nearly 3 years. In those 3 years yes it has been forgotten, overlooked, overshadowed, and even stolen from. But, to know that someone that loves it, or at least enjoys it, can take from it all that it is, well - that is enough to make me want to burn it. If I am to be hurt then I prefer to be the one doing the hurting. I get so much more satisfaction doing it my self.

Don't you just love the color of fire . . .

Entry 59:
Summer daze, summer ways, summer craze, heat, sweat, salty, tasty, longing for cool nights again so the sheets stop sticking to me. I feel the need to bathe at least 3 times a day. So I trade turns with the others who are afraid of the water. Cleanliness brings you closer to God. Stairing at my feet as it rushes toward the drain - doesn't take much to take me back there again. You see, the drain is just another rabbit hole. . . and I can do nothing - but fall again.

Seems as though God has forgotten about me. Maybe I am just not clean enough . . .

Entry 60:
As I choke up the jagged pieces cutting up my insides. I can't keep them down any longer. A million different pieces of me floating in the pool of spit, vomit, and blood at my feet. I knew I couldn't keep swallowing them down. That sooner or later they would come up. Sooner or later I would force myself out. So here I am in all my twisted and grotesque glory. What is a girl to do but pick up the pieces of her self and choke them down one more time? Better than standing here looking at them. Better than standing here looking at me. I'll be better when I can lock me down inside me. Just give me time and you will see. You will forget you ever saw the real me.

I am nothing but a fantasy . . . just an escape from your own drab reality . . .

Entry 61:
Sick, sick of it all. Too sick to go, too sick to stay, too sick to want to play. Tired of the same old same old. Tired of life, tired of death. I want the world to just stop, cease, be done, the end. Like a book when you close the cover. Yet, I can't keep you from replaying it in your head. Over and over again I come here. To this place infested with malicious memories of a childhood now missed. If this is a product of my imagination I surely must be as warped and twisted as they say I am. But, if I believe that, then I will have to believe this is not real. If this is not real then what am I? Surely I am real? I know I have pondered this before but if wonderland is just in my head then am I just in yours? Seems like we always come back here. Back to the same old same old. Back to life and death. Open the book and I will stay to play. As long as your here then so am I. If the world will not end - then I do not want it to continue with out me.

with out you I don't exist . . .

Entry 62:
take me in - into that children's story - take me back - back to a time when toys were for playing - just make it all better - make it all right

and if you can't - just make it all go away . . .

Entry 63:
let me sleep, let me be sleeping beauty and send some prince to wake me - let him wake me from my stupor, from this madness, from this life, let it all fall away as I wipe the sleep from my eyes, the madness from my face, and this life from my dreams, let me be the weak one, let me be the one that is saved, rescue me from my delusions and the poison that rots my mind, this self inflicted mess that I have burried my self in, I'm here, I'm waiting

rescue me . . .

Entry 64:
Silence is a lonely mistress

what I'm I supposed to do
she won't go away
silence is a lonely mistress
no one wants her to stay
break her with a whisper
an uttered word causes her to flee
but no sound escapes my lips
and she can not hear my plea

to never hear and never tell
to never speak - must be hell
she keeps it all tucked deep inside
I watch as she quietly cries
a lover of lonely misfits
silence is a lonely mistress

louder than any sound
deafening to my ears
as I fall to the ground
I find my self in tears
she mocks me with her lustful smile
I can't even hear me cry
find my self in a hush of denial
I just want this silence to die

to never hear and never tell
to never speak - this is hell
she keeps me silent deep inside
she watches as I quietly cry
she loves me - a lonely misfit
silence is a lonely mistress

I welcome her quiet kisses
as she softly touches my thigh
feel it rising as I rapture in her deep caresses
knowing in this silence I can no longer hide
and before I knew it
a scream escaped my lips
and with that she was gone
to my silent lonely mistress
I dedicate this - song

details of our tryst I'll never tell
her secrets I will never sell
she keeps me silent deep inside
wish she'd hold me as I cry
she loves me - a lonely misfit
silence is a lonely mistress

she loves me
she loves me
she loves me

silence - is my mistress

Entry 65:
I hurt my self today . . . to see if I still feel

how I miss real pain, the kind that makes you bleed, sacred and seething, rancid, wretched, tastes like cotton candy, face contorted in agony, oh so beautiful, nothing quite as pretty as pain, gaping wound like an open mouth, lips red, pursed and waiting for a kiss, kiss and tell of all my secrets, I refuse to let it speak, tear my sheets to gag it, watch the white soak up the red, at least this pain is not all in my head

at least this pain is real

Entry 66:
Where have I been? Where did they go?

I let them in just so I can push them out. Push them away. Close my eyes and lock my heart. Cast the outcasts to my oblivion and let them playout their roles in my minds sick horror. Oh but they like it there I can assure you that. Anything to be near me, anything to be with me, they will suffer through it all. At least in my world they do. In my make for real I wish so badly for make believe and yet all I can do is make them grieve. I'm here. I will always be here. No matter how far I push you away I always come back. I'm always watching, always willing, always waiting . . .

won't you come out to play?

Entry 67:
taunting you to tempt me into teasing you so you'll take me
forgetting you fight me I forge frivolous flights of fancy
imagining instigating an interrogation into my insanity
fall again into the frightening finale
awaking again alarmed ashamed
tied tethered fettered festered and lame

won't you please my mind and ease my pain of my diseased brain

Entry 68:
from white to black, I move forward and back, always planning my mode of attack, simple and true, I'm guided to you, your king is in check, what did you expect? your pawns are gone, and your knights are felled, your king is stuck where he is held, you're all that's left between me and the win, but I'm not yet ready for the end

care to try again?

Entry 69:
Waiting, we're always waiting for . . ., for what? for life? for love? for meaning? for purpose? for reason? for death?

Well while you're waiting, know that only one of those is certain, and while you ponder that certainty, ask yourself, what is it again that you are waiting for?

I'll be waiting . . .

Entry 70:
Line us up, strip us down. Dress us in a hospital gown. Segregated, labled, and put in place. Nothing but a number without a face. Each of us locked away in our own padded cell. Left to fight alone in our own personal hell.

We may be crazy, we may be mad, we may be lonely, we may be sad, but can't you see, the only difference is we don't pretend not to be.

Shouldn't you be in here with me?

Entry 71:
I'm looking for my Bedlam Boy,
One with whom I could be coy,
One to dance and laugh with joy,
Oh where do I find my Bedlam Boy?

An still I sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys
Bedlam boys are bonny
For they all go bare and they live in the air
And they want no drink nor money.

I laugh and think who am I kidding?
Who would I find to do my bidding?
The queen is still in need of ridding.
My dreams are nothing but forbidding.

An still I sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys
Bedlam boys are bonny
For they all go bare and they live in the air
And they want no drink nor money.

Humming this tune in my mind
Until my Bedlam boy I find
Of my self I do remind
That in here I'm still confined

An still I sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys
Bedlam boys are bonny
For they all go bare and they live in the air
And they want no drink nor money.


Won't you sing with me?

Entry 72:
wisdom
she only loves a warrior
well let me then
be wisdoms warrior
let me be loved by her
rather than lusted by him
always some madness in love
and method in madness
doesn't your God dance?
or with heavy eyes
do you gaze at gravity's ground
as you trip upon all things
serious, profound and solemn
soon you will fall
you search for freedom 'from'
I embrace freedom 'for'
I hold my little truths close to me
my children were they let out
would scream
so I hold their mouths closed
and I say to you
         - get your own
but be weary and vigilant
that once you make them yours
you don't forget to hold their mouths
lest you lose your own

Wisdom's warrior

Entry 73:
like wind through the leaves
whipsers rush
to catch me

tinder - ly

Oh...
was than an i or an e

light it up
hissing, scathing
snap back
heart at tack
heart it lacks
let it burn

fueling the need
to touch it
to feel it
raging deep within mich

it licks the bones
with split tongues
longing for a taste

just out of reach
standing
mocking
punshing the damned

we won't give up
without a chase

What are you running from?

Here you will find other attempts to recreate my hell or maybe even a way out of this maniacle place. Becareful where you click for no one is ever for sure where the next path will eventually take them. . .

Official Alice Site Link to Me Desktop Art Fan News Site

Fan Site About the Author Alice Adventures in Wonderland The Story Through the Looking Glass The Story Wide-Eyed Wonder About the Movie

This is a fan site for American McGee's Alice. All pictures (except for a few) were found on the EA site. The riddles were found on various sites and from many people. Got a riddle you would like to see here? Please send it to me (email address comes later). The design of the site and all poetry and rants are ©2000-2002 Sollitaire Multimedia, ©2000-2002 Sollitaire. If you have something to say post it on my message board, guest book, or email me. If I get enough fan mail or hate mail I will make you your own site! (hint hint!!) .

Warning! Ignore all grammar and spelling mistakes. As far as the public is concerned they were made on purpose to add character to the site. But if something really annoys you my email address is above!

Site Specs:
Made with a Macintosh (G4 450, 576mb RAM) Adobe GoLive and Simple Text (a.k.a. notepad). Graphics programs include Photoshop, Type Styler, and ImageReady (aren't those Cheshire grins just adorable!) This site looks best at a resolution of 800*600 or higher. The faster the connection the better the experience.

Who am I (Sollitaire)?
I am a self taught html addict that loves to build web sites. I used to build them just for fun - those of you who have read this page before know that I was looking for a job in the industry. Well I have found one and it allows me to learn more than I ever thought possible. This site will only continue to get better as benefit from the knowledge I now learn on the job!

I hope you enjoy the site! Please give me feedback as this is for the Fans!

Please join the new Down the Rabbit Hole Ezine and Newsletter list! - Look for more detailsto come on this page including a form to submit your own entries into the ezine! Don't forget to join our message board community as well! Link is to the left.

Do you have your very own Alice Fan site? If so would you like to link to other Fan Sites bringing more visitors to your own? Do you have a site that would make sense to link with other sites of this genre that is not necessarily primarily focused on Alice? Then Please join the "Follow the Rabbit" web ring. It does not need to be an Alice site to be apart of this ring but it needs to blend in with the rest whether it is poetry, fiction, art, or a journal of your own please feel free to join.

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