π’²π’½π‘œ π“ˆπ’Άπ“Žπ“ˆ 𝒯𝒾𝓂𝑒 π“ˆπ“…π’Ύπ“ƒπ“ˆ π’Έπ“π‘œπ’Έπ“€π“Œπ’Ύπ“ˆπ‘’? (𝔐𝔒π”ͺ𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔒𝔰 𝔬𝔣 π”ž π”₯π”žπ”±π”±π”’π”―: excerpt #2)
    
     π’²π’½π‘œ  π“ˆπ’Άπ“Žπ“ˆ  𝒯𝒾𝓂𝑒  π“ˆπ“…π’Ύπ“ƒπ“ˆ    
                    π’Έπ“π‘œπ’Έπ“€π“Œπ’Ύπ“ˆπ‘’?






(𝔐𝔒π”ͺ𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔒𝔰 𝔬𝔣 π”ž π”₯π”žπ”±π”±π”’π”―: excerpt #2)
                                                          wonderland stories
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maddie_hatter
maddie_hatter As lost as Alice, as mad as the hatter
Autoplay OFF Β  β€’ Β  a year ago
Who says Time spins clockwise?

Check part 1 before reading this, if you don't mind!

Β© 2020 Grazia Testa All rights reserved.

Pen name: Alyssa O’Rowane
Commaful: @maddie_hatter
Wattpad: _MaddieHatter_
Instagram: alyssa_orowane

This ballad supposedly plays the role of the song through which the Hatter has "murdered the time" at the Queen of Hearts' celebration, as he states in Carroll's "Alice in Wonderland" book. Stating him guilty with this accusation, the Queen of Hearts sentenced the Hatter to death.
Though he manages to escape the beheading ordered by the Queen, the Hatter fails to elude the rage of Time itself, because of which he is now forever condemned to live, frozen in time, in the hour for tea of 6 p.m.


β€œAlice sighed wearily. `I think you might do something better with the time,' she said, `than waste it in asking riddles that have no answers.'

`If you knew Time as well as I do,' said the Hatter, `you wouldn't talk about wasting it. It's him.'

`I don't know what you mean,' said Alice.

`Of course you don't!' the Hatter said, tossing his head contemptuously. `I dare say you never even spoke to Time!'

`Perhaps not,' Alice cautiously replied: `but I know I have to beat time when I learn music.'

`Ah! that accounts for it,' said the Hatter. `He won't stand beating. Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he'd do almost anything you liked with the clock. For instance, suppose it were nine o'clock in the morning, just time to begin lessons: you'd only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the clock in a twinkling! Half-past one, time for dinner!”
(Lewis Carroll – Alice In Wonderland)


π’²π’½π‘œ π“ˆπ’Άπ“Žπ“ˆ 𝒯𝒾𝓂𝑒 π“ˆπ“…π’Ύπ“ƒπ“ˆ π’Έπ“π‘œπ’Έπ“€π“Œπ’Ύπ“ˆπ‘’? (𝔐𝔒π”ͺ𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔒𝔰 𝔬𝔣 π”ž π”₯π”žπ”±π”±π”’π”―: excerpt #2)

Well, my dear

Well, my dear: who says Time spins clockwise?

Well, my dear: who says Time spins clockwise? After all, does it even spin at all?

Whatever direction it spins in, if Time even spins at all,

Whatever direction it spins in, if Time even spins at all, engaged in a macabre waltz

Whatever direction it spins in, if Time even spins at all, engaged in a macabre waltz on the clicks of the clock;

tip

tip tap

tip tic tap

tip tic tap toc

tip tic tap toc is Time truly wise,

tip tic tap toc is Time truly wise, locked stock-still in the White Rabbit's clock?

Who locked Time away? Who makes it fly away?

Who locked Time away? Who makes it fly away? Who kills Time? Who makes it run away?

Who locked Time away? Who makes it fly away? How could Time really spin clockwise? Who kills Time? Who makes it run away?

Is memory Time's forced disguise?

Do you know what memory is to man?

Do you know what memory is to man? Their doom?

Do you know what memory is to man? Their doom? Their saving grace?

Might memory be saving grace when you ache to forget?

Might it be, thus, doom

Might it be, thus, doom when you long to remember?

I, too, am prey of the vicious circle of Time,

I, too, am prey of the vicious circle of Time, whatever direction it spins in,

I, too, am prey of the vicious circle of Time, whatever direction it spins in, if Time does spin at all.

Mister Caterpillar...

I, too, am prey of the vicious circle of Time, whatever direction it spins in, if Time does spin at all. Mister Caterpillar: how could Time really spin clockwise?

Man fights with the Past that cling on their back

Man fights with the Past that cling on their back in an exhausting fight to get past the Past that lasts throughout all of their life.

In the end,

In the end, fated to be defeated,

In the end, fated to be defeated, it's the Past that always gets past the man.

Might this be the cause of our eternal dissatisfaction:

Might this be the cause of our eternal dissatisfaction: the safekeeping in the Present of what,

Might this be the cause of our eternal dissatisfaction: the safekeeping in the Present of what, by now,

Might this be the cause of our eternal dissatisfaction: the safekeeping in the Present of what, by now, belongs to another Time?

Riddle

Riddle with my riddles

Riddle with my riddles again, Cheshire...

Might this be the cause of our eternal dissatisfaction: the safekeeping in the Present of what, by now, belongs to another Time? Riddle with my riddles again, Cheshire: how could Time really spin clockwise?

It's both ironic

It's both ironic and sad

It's both ironic and sad how a couple of seconds can misshape what we are used to.

My sight is blind by the promises of hope

My sight is blind by the promises of hope that the Future promises to make me hope

My sight is blind by the promises of hope that the Future promises to make me hope but hasn't, regardless, promised as promised.

Might this be the cause of our eternal dissatisfaction:

Might this be the cause of our eternal dissatisfaction: the search in the Present

Might this be the cause of our eternal dissatisfaction: the search in the Present for what ought yet to belong to Time?

Have you ever questioned yourself, March Hare...

Might this be the cause of our eternal dissatisfaction: the search in the Present for what ought yet to belong to Time? Have you ever questioned yourself, March Hare: how could Time really spin clockwise?

My Queen,

My Queen, I

My Queen, I fall

My Queen, I fall to

My Queen, I fall to pieces

My Queen, I fall to pieces thinking of the many ways the Future could, instead, carve, deserting my hopes

My Queen, I fall to pieces thinking of the many ways the Future could, instead, carve, deserting my hopes to

My Queen, I fall to pieces thinking of the many ways the Future could, instead, carve, deserting my hopes to no

My Queen, I fall to pieces thinking of the many ways the Future could, instead, carve, deserting my hopes to no Time.

But if he moves as best as he does like,

My Queen, I fall to pieces thinking of the many ways the Future could, instead, carve, deserting my hopes to no Time. But if he moves as best as he does like, how could Time really spin clockwise?

Β© 2020 Grazia Testa All rights reserved. Pen name: Alyssa O’Rowane Commaful: @maddie_hatter Wattpad: _MaddieHatter_ Instagram: alyssa_orowane

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