It was Wonderland. Yeah, Wonderland. The word seemed sweeter than what it was, fluffier than the lazy, rolling clouds. But to be honest, Wonderland for some was Hell for others. Wonderland can't be described, nor placed in a box and tied up with a ribbon, no, Wonderland is the world's loosest word. Yes, that was a stretch, but my point is still clear. Your Wonderland could be drugs, books, love, a certain place, a certain person, anything. My Wonderland could be murder, cotton candy, the color blue, chocolates, papercraft, everything. Wonderland isn't as much a place as it is a spreading warmth (or cold, mattering on who you talk to), a thing of beauty. Wonderland, it's an odd concept. Hard to grasp with curious hands, hard to see with intrigued eyes, hard to hear with ever-waiting ears. Because Wonderland is merely an idea.
But even so, even if it's hard to grasp or see or hear, you know exactly what it means. Don't you?
