Every other school day I have to ask myself whether I can bear to run around the school building and the top field, if I can bear to pick up another stupid lacrosse stick or basketball. The only way I ever get through it is by imagining that i'm Sam or Frodo, starving and weary in Mordor, captured by orcs... or something along those lines.If it weren't for LOTR and my overactive imagination, I'd have dropped dead last term. This afternoon, I was the right Thain of the Shire, Mehira Took, who would face any torture the cruel tyrant orc named "Mr. Hennenfent" could think to dish up. It was fun, actually.
And on a more serious note, I read the last two books at a time of trauma. Don't ask me to explain. To me its major, to anyone younger way gross, to anyone older trivial. But it helped me forget my own troubles for a while, in favour of Sam and Frodo's; and Merry and Pippins; and Eowyns and... you don't really want to continue, do you?
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