Chapter One

Lately, with all the thoughtcrime that I have committed, I wonder how I have not yet been captured and forced into a labor camp. They surely should have caught me by now. But nonetheless, the stupid telescreen keeps watching me, giving me an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach that will not leave. The telescreen, the posters of big brother, the Thought Police, they are driving me crazy! Will I ever again be able to feel at ease, even in my own home?

Victory Mansions has seemed less and less victorious lately. All I ever smell anymore is boiled cabbage everywhere, and the occasional Victory Coffee (which did not taste victorious, at all.) The paint is peeling away and the lift is broken again. And the "Big Brother is watching you" posters seem to appear more and more throughout the entire building. I am always being monitored, my every move.

I must not be caught with this diary. If I was to be caught, I would be vaporized within seconds. I must keep this to myself. Although, I could also be vaporized in my sleep, since I have a tendency of sleep-talking, but let's just hope not. I was almost caught, when I left the diary wide open laying on the table while I answered the door. Thank goodness it was only Mrs. Parsons. I almost scared my self to death thinking it was already the thought police. they are my biggest threat. I can hide myself from the thought police, and the other comrades, but the thought police are always there, inside of my head.

I wish I knew of someone else in Oceania who thought the same things I do. Just to know that I am not alone in this state of mind.Maybe even someone to heProxy-Connection: keep-alive
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me take down Big Brother. Yes, that sounds good, but I think I am the only one that feels this way.

Now I must go, for I have been thinking of this much too long and the risk of being caught is getting higher by the minute.

Until next time,

Winston Smith.