I would like to be Alice for a while. Ophelia has become too gloomy, and I know she will be the death of me someday. Her madness only smothers my heart. So for now, I choose Alice over Ophelia. I need her. I need her stories to shake me up and spice my world — madness that promises adventure. I need her rabbit hole to hide me from the world. I need her potions and cakes to grow short, tall, fat, or any other shape I want to be. I would like to smoke hashish with the wriggly worm Absolem and get real stoned. I would like to float mid-air like the smug Cheshire cat, fleet in like a trail of smoke, and vanish like nebulous clouds. I would like to slay dragons with magical swords and be the champion of the repressed. I would like to rewrite the Oraculum. Have a madder tea party with the hare and the hatter. Marry the hatter. Have little Hatter children. Grow a bulbous head for a day and see what it's like. Slay more dragons of the fiercer sort. Bring in more chaos, disarray, and anarchy — a world of topsy-turvydom, where there isn't a moment to think. For it is thought, and having the time for it, that kills. So, I choose Alice and her mad world that spares no time for thought — a world that moves like a whirlwind.
