Life is a Real Hunger Game

The family was driven to watch Hunger Games due to Liaa's insistence that we watch it. It's rated 13 and Liaa is 9. We had no choice but to go.

To our surprise, it was outrageously good. Although it emotionally carried my post-radical soul because of its dystopic theme, we all went home satisfied. The bonus is that the terrain was shot in a North Carolina forest. It was the first time that I entered a movie house in my eastern NC place that is jump-packed with highly-supportive family members. Let's admit it: the kids brought their entire families to the movie house.

On a deeper note, life -- at least as I experience it -- is a hunger game. Although we are not given two weeks to eliminate every opponent, there is too much going on around. My work place is too far that I need to complete a 52-mile waste of time on the road just to get there. I am in a state where pay raise is just probably an illusion. I have students whose issue is not their disability, but their culture. When I get home, I am bothered by the thought that tomorrow is another day of disaster.

I feel like I am from a District that is being controlled by a Capitol -- that I was sent on a journey, as a tribute -- in order to survive; otherwise, I need to accept the sad fate of being part of a miserable situation. Death for me is giving up in despair and becoming part of the system without doing anything.