It was during this excursion that I developed the analogy. There were twenty of us, and the place we were staying in was quite like an arena. There was a central dining area, the rooms were ridiculously far apart, and it took a lot of walking to get from anywhere to anywhere.
For the entire weekend, I kept saying that we were in the middle of a Hunger Games, and that the gamemakers would unleash their mutts upon us at any second. That managed to annoy everyone who I spoke to about it, but I can hardly be blamed. It was all very suspicious.
For the last week, I have been having nightmares, most of which involve me being unable to answer the questions in an exam, and subsequently failing the exam (*knocks on wood*). I know that it isn't something that can happen now, because I distinctly remember answering everything, but that doesn't stop the nightmares.
Those nightmares were the same kind, on a smaller scale, that Katniss has after her first games, further intensifying my feeling that I was in some kind of giant Hunger Games. And then it struck me; life is a Hunger Games. You spend every minute trying to survive in a massive arena, where everyone is trying to kill you, trying to change you into someone you're not. And there is never a victor. The only way that anyone can leave is dead.
As a sidenote, I crossed one thousand views sometime last month, while I was off the grid, so thanks!
The Duchess of Cambridge with her foot stuck in a grate. It was the high point of my St. Patrick's Day. |