ā¦ RAZ DIARY: Wonderland Wasnāt a Trip, It Was a Switchblade
I didnāt think Iād 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 doesnāt loop right.
People here are still stressing over rent, cold brew, and Instagram reels, and Iām sitting there with my hands buzzing because Iāve seen the rivers of glass that cut through Wonderland, Iāve 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 Queenās corruption hanging like perfume. And I knowāI knowāthat my blood is too loud for Earth now. The Fae is screaming in me.
Itās not nostalgia. Itās ignition.
Itās hot. Iām hot. Not like lipstick-in-a-mirror hot, I mean fire-in-the-veins, skin-is-a-drum hot. Like my bodyās 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 āthe Lost.ā 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 justā¦ doesnāt fit right. My jeans donāt fit. My skin doesnāt 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 isnāt background noise anymore. Itās front row, itās center stage, itās screaming vocals, itās a beat I canāt mute. And every second I spend back on Earth, I feel like Iām just waiting for the next trod to open, the next signal to call me back.
Because baby, once youāve bled into Wonderland, you donāt crawl back to Earth.
You rise, glitch-crowned, lit up, and feral.
