Still think it's cruel

I've reread the Hunger Games trilogy for the third time now I believe. I really like the action-dystopia-romance mix of it.

What I still don't get from the whole book is why Suzanne Collins had to kill Finnick Odair. I think it's unnecessary cruel - not to the fans (I went to check any explanations online - omg, what a crazy squeaking of teenage girls around the death!), but to Annie Cresta.

He was the only person, at least the way it is described in the book, who could comfort and reassure the unstable girl, he was keeping her from disintegrating. I'm not buying into the quasi happy-end with her having his son. I don't see how a mentally ill person who loses the light of her life can be kept together by this.

Putting everything into prospective

In an interview with Suzanne Collins I recently watched she said that the idea for Hunger Games came to her, when she switched channels on her TV. One channel was showing some kind of reality show, where bunch of teenagers were competing for cash. The other channel was providing updates on war in Syria, where people and children were dying.

I am a survivor

I have been reading the Hunger Games Trilogy over the long weekend and among lots of enjoyment I had reading them, they helped me realize something about myself. Like the main character of the books, I am a survivor. No matter what life throws at me, it won’t break me. Unsettle me – maybe, but never damage me beyond repair. And never will I go under without a battle.

It’s probably not the fact to be proud of, but getting to know myself better is an achievement for me – I was never good at reflection.

I believe this very feature makes me very adaptable to whatever changes I face. I am able to alter myself to not feel uncomfortable under the new circumstances. Like when I was a child, I was really sentimental about what home was. I cried for days, when I found out, that we were moving from the apartment where I’ve spent the first thirteen years of my life. I also was really upset when we sold the cottage where I used to spend summers.

But with time I made myself change the attitude – not that it changed on its own, I remember working on it. That’s what made me a good immigrant – I don’t miss many things, because it’s disturbing and I don’t let myself to get upset. Life’s too short for that kind of things and sad feelings don’t add much value to it.