#thelost

🌑 LIVE FROM THE ENDLESS CITY – IMPERIAL SQUARE 🌑 Rain falling like copper. The Raven watching from shadow. Gemini’s Spiderkin gleaming. Alice smirks. Dorothy walks with the High Queen. 23 lives cut to start the music. Broadcast on the VOCC. The Square remembers.

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.

we crave it so must that it can destroy who we are.

the boy down the road with money that is flowing in tons, that is secretly popping pills in daddy’s bathroom because the house is empty and he’s trying to find a way out.the captain of the football team that everyone said they loved but no one ever sat down to listen to what was going on in his head due to his reputation at the parties. the pretty girl you pass in the hall that is overly nice to everyone, but you can hear her name whispered in the ears of all the people that never took the time to really get to know her because of the horizontal blemishes on her arms .

the boy in his father bathroom popped one too many, that girl decided to switch directions and go a little deeper, and nobody ever knew how many drinks the football boy had before he got behind the wheel of that car.