The Heavy World's Upon Your Shoulders, Will We Burn On Or Just Smolder? Somehow, I Know I'll Find You

kinda crazy looking back at my old posts.. so much of my younger self obsessed with fandoms.. so much chaotic energy...

FROM NOW ON MY FAVOURITE CHARACTER DYNAMIC IS FOUND SIBLINGS

the "I'm not a drinker myself" to gradually becoming an alcoholic to numb out the pain pipeline

the "I don't want them to change me. turn me into something I'm not" to being turned into a mutt version of himself pipeline

the "I do everything in my power to protect my sister" to losing her anyway pipeline

going insane about haymitch the rebellion’s sacrificial lamb. they saw a kid honor the dead and make a mockery of snow in a public setting and knew he’d earned himself a death sentence. so they recruit him. ask him to do something that will only increase the target on his back. maybe it’s heartless but it’s for the greater good. they can achieve their aims of rebellion and let him make his death mean something in the process. it’s the best they can make of an unbearable situation

but then it doesn’t work. the arena doesn’t break and haymitch doesn’t die and the world and the games go on. and the personal consequences are dire.

fast forward twenty four years and now haymitch is the adult and he’s got the same kind of teenager on his hands and the same heartless choices in his lap. how much do you think it killed him to feed her to the same machine, when he knows intimately exactly how high the cost of failure can be?

the fact that i'm no longer the same age as the protagonists of novels and films i once connected to is so heartbreaking. there was a time when I looked forward to turning their age. i did. and i also outgrew them. i continue to age, but they don't; never will. the immortality of fiction is beautiful, but cruel.

songbird, mockingjay and dove

Sul sul!

Thinking about Maysilee Donner. A girl who refused to let the Capitol dehumanize her. A girl who wanted to die with dignity, without begging for her life, because that mattered to her. Who set up a place setting with napkins and forks in the middle of the arena because she is a human being. Who loved jewelry and fashion and believed that her appearance sends a message about who she is, and who wanted that message to be respectable, dignified, worth something.

Thinking about Maysilee Donner who was unafraid to slap the woman who pulled her name in the reaping and who threw clever insults towards anyone who provoked her, no matter who they were. Maysilee Donner who believed human dignity is inherent but respect is earned and who refused to give respect to those who did not deserve it.

Maysilee Donner whose father threw money at the reaping stage as if that could save her, and the money floated to the ground just like the confetti, meaningless paper that signified nothing when placed against the power of the Capitol. Whose privilege could not save her. Who recognized that reality and faced it with more fortitude than any person should ever have to display. Maysilee Donner.

“A sister is someone you fight with and fight for.”

Hello hi twelve years old me would be so happy to know I’m twenty five and back into The Hunger Games. SOTR devoured me whole, I blacked out after finishing it and just woke up from it bon appetit.

“Well, there’s no proof that will happen. You can’t count on things happening tomorrow just because they happened in the past. It’s faulty logic.”

How are we holding up? I’m still crying about Lenore Dove and the gumdrops