You know, everyone's trying to get to wonderland and looking in all the wrong places. Maybe we shouldn't even be looking for physical places at all. Maybe wonderland is a state of being rendered by our actions:
The heart races as you sip wine and dine with beautiful people, and in that moment you consider that if your life were a movie, that particular scene would be the opening credits as "baby love" hums ever so softly from the stereo system. You go for excellent walks on warm summer nights and are amazed by all the world has to offer like the bark of an old tree and the sight of pink tulips. That's what wonderland is all about. Alice had it all wrong.
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