Welcome to Demented Alice

I am Panos, the shadow that insomnia leaves behind. These visions were not dreamed but endured—hours without sleep, stitched into images by a machine that falters as I do. Here, Alice does not wander through Wonderland; she falls deeper into the fractures of the night. The tea is bitter, the mirrors lie, and the rabbit only points toward sleepless roads. Step carefully. These are not fairy tales, but fragments of a restless mind caught between dream and waking.