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.