Oh no

These people just walked by me, they're wearing matching purple shirts and name tags. Gave me the feeling that they're prospective students. I overheard them:

Man: "She's kind of a captain obvious."

Woman: "What is that?"

I can't handle it. It's terrible.

This was a while ago, but I wrote a response to Hunger Games earlier on this blog. Find it here.

Nature

I was unknowing, and my body felt relieved. I was tucked away in a corner of trees by a streambed, a little ways off the rocky path, but not far enough. Hurry up, hurry up. Is that enough? No, I’ll just have to go again later. More! Finish now. Hikers from Japan or some other Asiatic country, a family of hikers, was coming up the trail. I could hear their feet crunching and see the sides of their faces through the leaves. I pulled up my shorts as I saw cameras swinging from their necks.

It wasn’t until later that the bumps came. Hard big bumps like inefficient sand paper, a whole clan of them perked up on my right elbow and around my thighs and on my shin. They made me mad as fuck. Itching – chafed – hurting, like someone had taken those chunks of my skin and inserted metal, alien robot skin. Skin only good for scratching – get it off me – hurting, red, parched, chickens.