Little Nightmare(s̶?)

Little Nightmares is a story about consumerism? Very interpretive.

The glutenous need for new blood? Insatiable as it ironically consumes us?
The shroom children scurry. The only action not done in blind nativity or malicious selfishness, offering food, is met with death from the one person you’d least expect.

The amalgamations of fat never actually did anything once they caught you. A fade to black. I thought it was for censorship.

But you.

You eat hapless rats. You eat the closest thing to other children. You eat a beautiful woman, the only one in a glutenous world. And it’s called Little Nightmares. Could you have been the nightmare all along? Very interpretive

Chefs blubbering, foam spilling on kitchen tiles as they produce mass food for the endless stream of consumers.

Then there’s the disabled one, the librarian. Strangely solitary, blind. His section seemed so alone, devoid of anything but him. It’s almost sad, left to his own mad devices. He’s the only one other than the lady not grotesquely bursting at the seams with flesh and slob. His long spindly hands grope flaccidly around. He maintains the world for these monsters without thanks? Very interpretive.

Back turned, the once timid yellow coat now shrouds something we once thought we knew.

But why are they chasing six (you)? Why does six need to eat meat like them? Isn’t that the core of these monsters' monstrosity?

Maybe, maybe they weren’t chasing six to stuff into their grubby hands. They frantically shift their massive weight over harsh carpets and cold wood, and yet when they get her, they never explicitly eat her. Either they’re taking their time, which is unlikely given their extreme gusto, or she threatens them and they know it. Very inter-

The perfect mannequin

Perhaps it’s the mass consumerism, looking up to one idealized person, who is forced into a state of constant perfection where nothing works, they loathe and writhe at their own reflection. It’ll never be good enough. To prevent shattering their fragile ever eroding psyche, they smash every mirror in.

Every mirror, but one.

It’s very interpretive. Sufficiently annoyed yet? A mess of loose ideas webbed together? If you’d allow me to go on a side tangent, I think good media will make smart people feel smart. Semi-inspired to interpret. Truly great ones make everyone contemplate. Obtuse can go only so far until it becomes pretentious and snobby. Though I don’t think Little Nightmares is one of the greats, it’s very much one of the goods. The good ones say defile, the greats make you feel it without the need to prop it up.

Looking back, casting a longing shadow that hesitates, before trudging forth into the unknown.

Here and now. The angle is one of power. For you to usurp, to conquer once seemingly immovable giants, inspiring confidence, no longer a far pan out, small against the backdrop of a dark world. Now the worlds going by your rules, not you playing theirs.
And it’s time to make them pay.



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