So, somewhere else on the internetworlds, I posted this awhile back just for fun. It was livejournal, but I decided I liked blogger better and stopped writing in the account after 2 (yeah, 2) entries.
ANYWHO, it wasn't a journal so much as a fake diary dedicated to Lewis Carroll. It's all one-draft stuff and kinda sucks, but it's kinda fun too. :) And since it's Sunday, I wondered if you all might like to hear the oddness that I posted? :) All right then! Here goes!*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
What a strange world this is.
I have to confess, journaling is not my strong point. But for you, dearest diary, I must try. I find, if I'm being honest with myself, that this strange world deserves some sort of record, and so far as I can tell, no person here ever records anything. Of course, nothing here seems to ever change, and why record yesterday when you know it will be the same as tomorrow?
"Yesterday was always pleasant, Sophie dearest," my first companion said, "and tomorrow is always expected to be pleasant, but today is always a bit of a riot, and the chaos is always a day late in rearranging itself. It really is inconvenient, darling, but what can we do?"
"Surely," I tried to answer, "We could try to make today less chaotic, and so affect tomorrow?"
"But what is the good of affecting tomorrow, silly Sophie, if we never get there?"
I really had no reply to this. When I was silent, my companion - who, if I remember rightly, was rather blonde, and stout, and had the most remarkable ears - grabbed onto my arm and invited me to her home. I was quite tired by my day's travel, having traveled across several worlds, and accepted her invitation thankfully.
"Your hair really is quite short," Bell - that was her name - said, pulling on one of my curls. "But don't worry, it shall grow tomorrow!"
I tried to reconcile myself with the idea that tomorrow was simply a day away, and that it would never arrive, and found that it made me hungry. My host, once we arrived at her cabin, was most gracious with her food, all sorts of cakes and sweetmeats, and I was full in a short while.
"Bell," I began, "Why are the trees so tall outside? Have they been here long?"
"Long!" she laughed, "Why, they've been here since yesterday's yesterday, many yesterdays ago. And it was pleasant then, you know, because they were so young yesterday, and the fruits were in season. Quite delicious, Sophie!"
"All the fruits were in season?" I asked, not familiar with the food of this world. It seemed quite possible that they all had been in season at once, but it didn't seem possible that the only season was as long ago as she said.
"All that won't be in season tomorrow," said Bell, "And that is all, and none of them."
"Are none in season today?"
"I'm sure they are, Sophie angel," Bell said, patting my head very condescendingly. "But why work to pick them when they'll fall off the tree tomorrow? Now, my dearest, you must get to sleep!"
Singing a strange lullaby that didn't have any words, at least none that I could understand, she tucked me into corner on a pile of straw covered with a blanket, which was unusual but not altogether uncomfortable, and told me she'd wake me later today, by which she meant tomorrow. I fell asleep, uneasy that I'd ever wake, because tomorrow never came.
"Ah, Sophie!" she said, the next morning. "It is today. You see, we have missed tomorrow again!"
That was my first day in Lillyland.