Why is a raven like a writing desk?
No-one knows that.
I'm mad. Everyone knows that.
What they don't know is why. Why I'm mad. Why I have developed this strange obsession with hats. Why I'm here in Wonderland. Alice came here many years ago because she was a young girl, a dreamer with a wild imagination that this mystical place just pounced upon and drained.
We met her at the tea party. Myself, the March Hare, the Dormouse and this…ordinary girl. Ordinary…I don't know what that word even means anymore. All I know is Nonsense. Nonsense, hilarity, anything so surreal and unreal. A world where anything can change in a split second. Life flourishes, and not life you could even imagine. Caterpillars that talk and smoke. Flowers that sing…oh they are my favourites. If ever I strain to remember the reason for my presence here than I'm normally encouraged by my colleagues to take a stroll through the flowers and let their songs wash away all confusion.
It's like they want me to be happy. Maybe that's it; maybe this is all a drug induced dream.
Wait…what are drugs? Darn it, I cannot remember. But somehow, briefly, I did. What if I'm like Alice? Am I from her world? What if we all are?
The March Hare? Was he a normal little bunny who lost his way? The Dormouse the same? The queens are royalty of old, missing for centuries? Who knows? All time never flows here. I could never count the time here. All the clocks are broke, or they run backwards, or they change time as soon as you turn your back just to add to the confusion. Ugh, I could've been here longer than I can even guess. How many tea parties have I had? What seems like every single day I've sat at the head of this table, two allies to my sides.
Sometimes I hear whispers…voices I don't recognise yet they seem familiar. They scream at me some nights. Sometimes they call me Hartley. Hartley? Dear Jabberwock no, my name is Mad Hatter. Always has been as long as I remember. Sometimes they tell me to calm down. Sometimes they contradict one another. One calls me a sweet thing, calm and sane. The other says 'crazy'.
I have a sudden urge to make hats now. I want to sow. I want to create. Maybe a small hat. An eensy teensy weensy little bowler hat especially for Dormouse. A royal red one, with a little pretty pink bow. She'll appreciate it. I'm sure! I'm so sure!
Maybe I am mad. Maybe I should take a walk. Maybe I'll end up like Alice, lost in another world. That would be nice. Maybe I should get up now and leave…
Mmmm this is good tea. Good, wonderful, hot tea. And sugar. Sweet, sweet sugar…
So why is a raven like a writing desk?
Maybe I don't need to know the answer. Not just yet.