Frankly, I Could Use A Little Sugarcoating.

I Send A Silent Thank-you To Dalton For Suggesting I Wash Off The Makeup. How Ridiculous, How Perverse I Would Feel Presenting That Painted Capitol Mask To These People. The Damage, The Fatigue, The Imperfections. That's How They Recognize Me, Why I Belong To Them.

In My Mind, President Snow Should Be Viewed In Front Of Marble Pillars Hung With Oversized Flags. It's Jarring To See Him Surrounded By The Ordinary Objects In The Room. Like Taking The Lid Off A Pot And Finding A Fanged Viper Instead Of Stew.

Everything Is About Them, Not The Dying Boys And Girls In The Arena.

Only.. I Want To Do Die As Myself

I Knew You'd Kiss Me." "how?" I Say. Because I Didn't Know Myself. "because I Am In Pain," He Say's. "that's The Only Way I Get Your Attention.