When I was young, I followed a white rabbit down a rabbit hole. I ended up in a place only possible in another deminsion. I had a wonderful time and met lots of interesting characters. Then I was back. Boy, reality is a kill joy. I was young then, I didn't know how to hide what I had seen, I didn't know how to lock it up inside my mind. My parents took me out of school, made me spend all of my time with them.
When I went back the second time, the place was somehow changed. The colors were duller, the people less then what they once were. I came back changed completely this time. I was driven mad.
What happened, it was my fault. Now I live with their blood on my hands. What a chilling thought. I LIVE WITH IT EVERYDAY. If only I had been in more control, if only I could have hurt myself instead of them, everything would be fine now. Instead, I killed them, all of them. IT WAS ALL MY FAULT.
Now I'm here in the Wonderland Asylum. The hardest thing I'm learning is that wounds don't always heal. They say, behinds their hands, behind my back, I'm a lifetime member. There is nothing I can do. THE VOICES REFUSE TO LEAVE. I'm lost in my new Wonderland. I know nothing.
I can tell you one thing, however: NEVER follow the white rabbit.
Now for the trivial: There's not much to do now that I'm in the Asylum. One of my favorite activities though is to watch others, determine their age, when and how they will die, and all the crimes they committed. Here, it's no use trying to understand their thoughts. Oh, but you can't help that. We're all mad here. My best friend is my kitty, Dinah. She comes to visit me whenever possible. She has to sneak in for animals are forbidden here.
The rain cleanses me, washes the blood from my hands for a short time. Nature relaxes me.
Sometimes, when one of my floormates is having a hard time, I can help them. I think we should all be helping each other. The doctors and nurses try to help, I think, but really, what can the sane do for the mad?