Lewis Carroll is crazy. Genuinely. This was my third(ish) read through of Through the Looking Glass. I have this odd relationship with this book where I keep coming back to it, even though I wouldn’t say I love it. I don’t know what makes me pick it up every few months. I think it just makes me happy. Which should be odd, considering the creepy backstory. If you don’t know by now, this may come as a shock. Lewis Caroll was in love with the OG Alice, the then ten-year-old Alice Liddell. Casual. I always forget about this poem (pictured), and it is so creepy. This might be the best acrostic I have ever read. Still creepy though.