⌠RAZ DIARY: Wonderland Wasnât a Trip, It Was a Switchblade
I didnât think Iâd 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 doesnât loop right.
People here are still stressing over rent, cold brew, and Instagram reels, and Iâm sitting there with my hands buzzing because Iâve seen the rivers of glass that cut through Wonderland, Iâve 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 Queenâs corruption hanging like perfume. And I knowâI knowâthat my blood is too loud for Earth now. The Fae is screaming in me.
Itâs not nostalgia. Itâs ignition.
Itâs hot. Iâm hot. Not like lipstick-in-a-mirror hot, I mean fire-in-the-veins, skin-is-a-drum hot. Like my bodyâs 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 âthe Lost.â 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⌠doesnât fit right. My jeans donât fit. My skin doesnât 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 isnât background noise anymore. Itâs front row, itâs center stage, itâs screaming vocals, itâs a beat I canât mute. And every second I spend back on Earth, I feel like Iâm just waiting for the next trod to open, the next signal to call me back.
Because baby, once youâve bled into Wonderland, you donât crawl back to Earth.
You rise, glitch-crowned, lit up, and feral.