✦ RAZ DIARY: Wonderland Wasn’t a Trip, It Was a Switchblade
I didn’t think I’d actually do it. Physically peel myself off EarthRealm and step through, like some rave kid crawling into the speaker stack and ending up inside the bassline. People have told me they've done this, didn't believe them. Not really. But I did it. I actually... went. Wonderland. Not just a name, not just a glitchy trope in the faerie-net. A place. A realm. It happened.
And now Earth feels like a flat JPEG. Like a bootleg DVD menu that doesn’t loop right.
People here are still stressing over rent, cold brew, and Instagram reels, and I’m sitting there with my hands buzzing because I’ve seen the rivers of glass that cut through Wonderland, I’ve touched the sky that folds like silk and static.
When I blink, I see playing cards burning in the shape of soldiers. I feel the Queen’s corruption hanging like perfume. And I know—I know—that my blood is too loud for Earth now. The Fae is screaming in me.
It’s not nostalgia. It’s ignition. It’s hot. I’m hot. Not like lipstick-in-a-mirror hot, I mean fire-in-the-veins, skin-is-a-drum hot. Like my body’s tuned to a different station now and the Dreaming is the only frequency I can actually dance to.
Maybe this is what they meant when they whispered about “the Lost.” Half-life in the Earth Realm, never fitting, until you get yanked sideways and the click finally happens. Wonderland showed me that click. And now Earth just… doesn’t fit right. My jeans don’t fit. My skin doesn’t fit. The skyline feels plastic. The Dreaming feels like home.
So what do I do? Do I stay? Do I walk? Do I let it burn?
All I know is this: the Fae in me isn’t background noise anymore. It’s front row, it’s center stage, it’s screaming vocals, it’s a beat I can’t mute. And every second I spend back on Earth, I feel like I’m just waiting for the next trod to open, the next signal to call me back.
Because baby, once you’ve bled into Wonderland, you don’t crawl back to Earth. You rise, glitch-crowned, lit up, and feral.