The past is the past...but not really the past...only an imaginary world which the tyrant, Big Brother, keeps switching for endless bull droppings! They destroy EVERYTHING I cannot even remember my mother...my own MOTHER! Maybe I did not even have parents! Maybe I am a robot! There is no DARN POINT in living if there IS nothing to live for.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Day 2
Stupid Big Brother. I do not care anymore if they catch me...at least I thought I didn't. I was so scared, I almost wet my britches when stupid old Parsons came to explain to me that her hellhole of a house had some stupid green mix in her sink. Make me wash your sink, get attacked by your feisty little children, make my vericose ulcer throb like an angry man's veins. I await the day when she suddenly...'disappears.'
To someone, somewhere, I write this diary where ages are different and the truth is the truth, not lies.
To someone, somewhere, I write this diary where ages are different and the truth is the truth, not lies.
Day 1
April 4th, 1984
Hello future. Hello whoever you are. Or maybe I am only writing to myself. What year is it? Who were my parents? Who am I?
"Gulp" goes a swig of Victory Gin. My throat burns, my eyes tear, and suddenly... the world is a brighter, happier place. Big Brother stares at me, and I can't look back; his strong eyes pierce through me like a silver dagger.
I flicker the light switches, but they don't work. WORK, WORK, WORK! Nope, still not working. Everything in this room is obsolete, but I understand...kind of... Stupid lift shaft, stupid varicose ulcer, stupid light switches. Yet, there are ways I can escape this world; after all, there is always the Victory Gin I keep under my nightstand, which can always take me to a... MORE perfect world.
Pig iron, telescreen, boiled cabbage, and gray world that comforts me like a monster sleeping under a child's bed. My world is like a snow globe without snow flakes; something is missing. Big Brother stares at everything I do, but I guess this is good because he is only trying to help keep me safe, of course. But I still wonder what is happening in the Ministry of Love. Why is there barbed wire and hidden machine gun nests? Big Brother is like a brother, so why should he hide anything?
While I was working at the Ministry of Truth, I saw this woman, this hot, sexy...stupid, putrid woman. I want to smash her head in with a jack hammer! I want to see her blood stream all over the floor. I want to see her scarlet sash which resembles her abstinence be torn into shreds, and she falls to the ground, yelling and crying.
And while I write to you...future, unborn child...I don't care if they catch me...the Thought Police. There is nothing to be afraid of. What do I have to lose? A ramshackle house that smells like cabbage? Yet, I am still scared...for what?
Hello future. Hello whoever you are. Or maybe I am only writing to myself. What year is it? Who were my parents? Who am I?
"Gulp" goes a swig of Victory Gin. My throat burns, my eyes tear, and suddenly... the world is a brighter, happier place. Big Brother stares at me, and I can't look back; his strong eyes pierce through me like a silver dagger.
I flicker the light switches, but they don't work. WORK, WORK, WORK! Nope, still not working. Everything in this room is obsolete, but I understand...kind of... Stupid lift shaft, stupid varicose ulcer, stupid light switches. Yet, there are ways I can escape this world; after all, there is always the Victory Gin I keep under my nightstand, which can always take me to a... MORE perfect world.
Pig iron, telescreen, boiled cabbage, and gray world that comforts me like a monster sleeping under a child's bed. My world is like a snow globe without snow flakes; something is missing. Big Brother stares at everything I do, but I guess this is good because he is only trying to help keep me safe, of course. But I still wonder what is happening in the Ministry of Love. Why is there barbed wire and hidden machine gun nests? Big Brother is like a brother, so why should he hide anything?
While I was working at the Ministry of Truth, I saw this woman, this hot, sexy...stupid, putrid woman. I want to smash her head in with a jack hammer! I want to see her blood stream all over the floor. I want to see her scarlet sash which resembles her abstinence be torn into shreds, and she falls to the ground, yelling and crying.
And while I write to you...future, unborn child...I don't care if they catch me...the Thought Police. There is nothing to be afraid of. What do I have to lose? A ramshackle house that smells like cabbage? Yet, I am still scared...for what?
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