Three

I

Dear Journal,

Lights never ending in this bare cell. But this woman who shares the last name of Smith, is it possible for even a second that she could be my mother. But that was the least of my worries, I worry that I will betray Julia because of the physical torture they I will endure. Any second I could be dragged away to Room 101. But as O' Brien is captured as well, my future seems to ominous. I beg of the Brotherhood to just send me a razor blade, so I can end this now. I would rather be dead than to have my elbow smashed every day.

II

Dear Journal,

O' Brien was there putting the pain on me, cranking the dial to my pain up every time I disagreed with him. But I cannot endure and must give in to the lie that O' Brien is holding up five fingers when he is actually holding up four. O' Brien is not the source of the pain though because it is not possible because he is the force making it go away. I am crushed to find my love betray is what O' Brien said to be "immediately." Not even putting up a fight, or even a struggle.

III

Dear Journal,

I cannot own my mind in this world, for the pain involved in keeping it is far to severe. O' Brien totures me to say the goal of the party is perpetual power. I cannot say that the universe is out of their control. But the minute O' Brien handed me the mirror I was brought back into reality, with every valley of my aging face. Why did O' Brien do this to me? I should have known this is how it would end when I started my diary.

IV

Dear Journal,

After I comply to what O' Brien says, they allow me to be transfered into more comfortable. For a mere second I thought that I could believe the Party slogans. But the more I think about these slogans the more I hate them. The more I hate Big Brother and if I can die hating Big Brother I have accomplished something. Even though the name Julia slipped from my lips and I must now return to Room 101, in the end it will be worth it. I am determined to keep my feelings and ideas.

V

Dear Journal,

I have betrayed Julia. How could I not they pulled out my biggest fear and pushed it onto me. I have been defeated.

IV

Dear Journal,

A free man, I can barely even put together what had happened. When I see Julia, sparks do not fly. I told her I betrayed her and she tells me that she betrayed me. Although we say we will meet again, neither of us has the intent of carrying out this action. As I see the poster of Big Brother, I feel safe and surprisingly content.

TwoIDear Journal,Accidently bumping into the dark haired girl I found an unexpected discovery. One little note with three words, eight letters, one meaning: I love you. How clever, how sly, almost as if she had knew her way around the Party. I mean the hiding place where the telescreens were out of eye's reach. Although, I found it comforting that during our time together she assured me that she had done this many times before.IIDear Journal,Julia, not the dark haired girl, Julia. Julia is a member of the Anti-Sex League, but is having a sexual relationship with me. Although it is confusing, our first time together was everything that I had ever dreamed about. An experience like no other. An experience that I would have never had received from my former spouse, Katherine, as she hated touching of any kind.IIIDear Journal,Julia, the name is still ringing in my head for every word she says is golden. I am finally in a relationship with someone who makes me happy and enjoys having a relationship with intercourse. On the other hand, Julia does not wish to take part in my rebellious intentions yet to just outwit the Party. But it does not matter because I can tell her anything, even the time I deeply considered pushing Katherine off a cliff.IVDear Journal,Outside the shop today I see a women that engenders hope throughout my entire being. A prolitary women singing a delightful tune of her own. Now again I say the power lies with the proles. Although preparations for Hate Week have been time consuming, I got to see Julia with a painted face. Never had I seen her so vibrant with color. But it only lasts for so long. But as she set on her departure, I look into the paperweight and see the oasis of my dreams. I long for the day where I can see Julia for as much as my heart desires.VDear Journal,Syme is gone. I knew he would be gone some day, he was far to knowledgeable for the Party's concern. The new Hate song is sweeping through the neighborhood as Hate Week comes around. But the one concept truly eating at my soul is the one of apartment. It is all that I can think of, and of course Julia. I wish that Katherine could make my life easier and just vanish or even better pass, so I can truly be united with Julia.VIDear Journal,This affair I have with Julia has been officially scheduled into my daily routine. Almost as it is addictive. Like I need her to be in my life every day of every week.VIIDear Journal,I dream of my mother and little sister and how they died trying to save me. With tears in my eyes, I awake to see Julia's beautiful face. I told her my memories of my mother and sister and of the day I left. It was when I was little, and my mother gave me a chocolate bar asking for me only to take a small piece, but consumed with greed I took the whole bar and left my mother and sister in the dust. Not a day goes by that I regret it. On the other hand, I think about Julia and we promise each other that we will never stop loving each other, even if we captured.VIIIDear Journal,O' Brien has the answers to what I have been looking for. The Brotherhood and Emmanuel Goldstein exists. But in our initiation, Julia revolted to the question that we might be separated never to see each other again. As Julia left, O' Brien handed me Goldstein's book. The feelings of curiosity and hope engendered within me as I held this rather sacred item.IXDear Journal,What information this book contains. I find it intriguing that war is perpetual to keep social classes distinct into the hierarchal society of the Inner and Outer Parties and the Proles. And how the Proles are kept ignorant, so they will not have to think and change the classes. I can now understand why the party has the slogains "WAR IS PEACE" and "IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH." What the Party wants, the Party gets. XDear Journal,Abused, Tortured, Separated are just a few words that words that come to mind when I think of the day Julia and I were caught. The telescreen was behind the old painting of the church. I should have known better than to thought that Julia and I were alone all this time. But before this happened, I heard the familar lines from the song: “Here comes a candle to light you to bed, here comes a chopper to chop off your head!” I conclusion I come to, we are dead.

Two

I

Dear Journal,

Accidently bumping into the dark haired girl I found an unexpected discovery. One little note with three words, eight letters, one meaning: I love you. How clever, how sly, almost as if she had knew her way around the Party. I mean the hiding place where the telescreens were out of eye's reach. Although, I found it comforting that during our time together she assured me that she had done this many times before.

II

Dear Journal,

Julia, not the dark haired girl, Julia. Julia is a member of the Anti-Sex League, but is having a sexual relationship with me. Although it is confusing, our first time together was everything that I had ever dreamed about. An experience like no other. An experience that I would have never had received from my former spouse, Katherine, as she hated touching of any kind.

III

Dear Journal,

Julia, the name is still ringing in my head for every word she says is golden. I am finally in a relationship with someone who makes me happy and enjoys having a relationship with intercourse. On the other hand, Julia does not wish to take part in my rebellious intentions yet to just outwit the Party. But it does not matter because I can tell her anything, even the time I deeply considered pushing Katherine off a cliff.

IV

Dear Journal,

Outside the shop today I see a women that engenders hope throughout my entire being. A prolitary women singing a delightful tune of her own. Now again I say the power lies with the proles. Although preparations for Hate Week have been time consuming, I got to see Julia with a painted face. Never had I seen her so vibrant with color. But it only lasts for so long. But as she set on her departure, I look into the paperweight and see the oasis of my dreams. I long for the day where I can see Julia for as much as my heart desires.

V

Dear Journal,

Syme is gone. I knew he would be gone some day, he was far to knowledgeable for the Party's concern. The new Hate song is sweeping through the neighborhood as Hate Week comes around. But the one concept truly eating at my soul is the one of apartment. It is all that I can think of, and of course Julia. I wish that Katherine could make my life easier and just vanish or even better pass, so I can truly be united with Julia.

VI

Dear Journal,

This affair I have with Julia has been officially scheduled into my daily routine. Almost as it is addictive. Like I need her to be in my life every day of every week.

VII

Dear Journal,

I dream of my mother and little sister and how they died trying to save me. With tears in my eyes, I awake to see Julia's beautiful face. I told her my memories of my mother and sister and of the day I left. It was when I was little, and my mother gave me a chocolate bar asking for me only to take a small piece, but consumed with greed I took the whole bar and left my mother and sister in the dust. Not a day goes by that I regret it. On the other hand, I think about Julia and we promise each other that we will never stop loving each other, even if we captured.

VIII

Dear Journal,

O' Brien has the answers to what I have been looking for. The Brotherhood and Emmanuel Goldstein exists. But in our initiation, Julia revolted to the question that we might be separated never to see each other again. As Julia left, O' Brien handed me Goldstein's book. The feelings of curiosity and hope engendered within me as I held this rather sacred item.

IX

Dear Journal,

What information this book contains. I find it intriguing that war is perpetual to keep social classes distinct into the hierarchal society of the Inner and Outer Parties and the Proles. And how the Proles are kept ignorant, so they will not have to think and change the classes. I can now understand why the party has the slogains "WAR IS PEACE" and "IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH." What the Party wants, the Party gets.

X

Dear Journal,

Abused, Tortured, Separated are just a few words that words that come to mind when I think of the day Julia and I were caught. The telescreen was behind the old painting of the church. I should have known better than to thought that Julia and I were alone all this time. But before this happened, I heard the familar lines from the song: “Here comes a candle to light you to bed, here comes a chopper to chop off your head!” I conclusion I come to, we are dead.

One

I

Dear Journal,

The cold breezes creeps upon my legs as the sun sets on this oppressing, yet normal day. The posters watching my every breath and every movement. Only possible for my thoughts to run free in my head. But this oppression is killing me so deeply in my heart that I must write these feelings that engender within me to let down on paper before I perform them in person. Scared that the Thought Police will catch me. No where am I safe from a neighbor, friend, or even a small child could change my life just instantly.

II

Dear Journal,

DOWN WITH BIG BROTHER. The words that run around and around in circles in my head. How could I get this though out of my head as he is everywhere, even on the coins that lie in my wallet. As Mrs. Parsons stopped by today, I thought of the children in there dreary request to see the hanging. And how everyone thought the slogans were glorious.

III

Dear Journal,

Alone in this place of Oceania, I dream of my mother. Her tall, statuesque body, fair hair, and silent behaviors. Of the father I knew to have dark skin and his towering height in his neat dark clothes looking at me with his spectacles. Of the small innocent sister I barely knew except for her watchful eyes. I awaken each day with a burning passion for the truth and even closer when I awake on days with the word "Shakespeare" on my lips. Of course this is hard to think of when an attractive young lady with dark hair have the potential of being a spy.

IV

Dear Journal,

On this normal day, I lose myself into the mathematical equations of the Newspeak. Translating each file for it is set in record. Later I see the life of a fallen comrade, Comrade Ogilvy. His young life of which he rejected each of the toys that were not drums, submachine guns, and model helicopters. In addition to representing abstinence, he did not smoke and wished to hunt down criminals. For he did not live in the present, but in the past. Fascinating that the act of forgery made him one step closer by evidence alone to those of Charlemagne or Julius Caesar.

V

Dear Journal,

I met up with Syme today as he tries to explain to me about the Eleventh Edition of Newspeak. I worry that for every waking moment that Syme discovers more about the party will lead to his vaporization. Also Mr. Parsons apologized for his children harassing me the other day. And on this day I have discovered one of their spies staring me down. This dark haired girl watching my every move which worries me deeply.

VI

Dear Journal,

Today, I think of the last time I had sexual relations with a woman. This thought brings back the memories of my ex-beloved. Katherine hated touching of any kind and sex was out of the question. But my last sexual partner had been a weathered, aged woman from the streets of the proles. The Party frowned upon sexual act of any kind unless it was to produce a new party member. I feel deprived of this freedom to speak my mind because all that I desire to scream are the thoughts that run through my mind. And my job could not be any more contradictory to how feel. I falsify the past to create the ideal world according to the Party. I yearn to find more about the past, the facts of how life actually was.

VII

Dear Journal,

I realized today that power lies with the proles. If there is to be any revolution at all, the proles will have to be a part of it. Most of them do not even know that the Party is oppressing them because they live simple lives of ignorance. The proles make up 85% of the population. It needs to occur because of the Party's ideal cities include decaying buildings, electricity shortage, and many people that live in penury and fright. I want the ability to say 2 + 2 = 4.