I'm Running On Hate. When The Energy

One Night, I Was Lying In Bed, And I Was Channel Surfing Between Reality Tv Programs And Actual War Coverage. On One Channel, There's A Group Of Young People Competing For I Don't Even Know; And On The Next, There's A Group Of Young People Fighting In An Actual War. I Was Really Tired, And The Lines Between These Stories Started To Blur In A Very Unsettling Way. That's The Moment When Katniss's Story Came To Me.

So It's You And A Syringe Against The Capitol? See, This Is Why No One Lets You Make The Plans.

At Once, It’s Clear I Cannot Gush. We Try Me Playing Cocky, But I Just Don’t Have The Arrogance. Apparently, I’m Too “vulnerable” For Ferocity. I’m Not Witty. Funny. Sexy. Or Mysterious By The End Of The Session, I Am No One At All.

What Is The Worst Pain? To Me, It's Always The Pain That Is Present.

I Carefully Lay Out The Provisions. One Thin Black Sleeping Bag That Reflects Body Heat. A Pack Of Crackers. A Pack Of Dried Beef Strips. A Bottle Of Iodine. A Box Of Wooden Matches. A Small Coil Of Wire. A Pair Of Sunglasses. And A Half-gallon Plastic Bottle With A Cap For Carrying Water That's Bone Dry. No Water. How Hard Would It Have Been For Them To Fill Up The Bottle?