Part 3: Chapter VI

The Chestnut Tree Cafe looks the same. The telescreen remains in the top-left corner, still stuck on the same channel. The chessboards are still plastered to the tables. Except the waiters here grew more persistant; surely they must know I can't drink all of this Victory Gin. I have a feeling they won't be watching me too closely, because their is no threat at hand. I no longer have desire to commit thoughtcrime. My only intention is to be a top-noch comrade. My job is much better, considering the fact I get paid more, as well as being further away from Julia. Julia. That will be my last glimpse of her. No more nonsense with her lustful ways. The day we met after we were set free, I made it very clear that I betrayed her. She's so naive to still be planning these clandestine meetings. I am done with her. As I watch the telescreen, an exclusive report came in; we have won the battle. So this is what ignorance feels like. Not bad at all. I have won my battle. It has taken me four scores, but it is settled. My new love is with Big Brother.

Part 3 Chapter V

I wish that stealthy bullet would unexpectedly strike me already. As they opened the door to Room 101, a pungent odor of, what seemed blood and dirt, striked me instantly. My head is unable to move. It appears it is in some kind of metal cage. They have agreed to let me write my last thoughts in this diary before the interrogation begins. Calm down, calm down. I can easily fool the perspicacious O'brien through simple quotes like, "Ignorance is strength", "War is Peace", etc. He will not break me down. I can't seem to concentrate though, some annoying sound is limiting me. It sounds like little chirps of some kind of animal. Here comes O'brien. I must stop writing, but can't help but notice a metallic cage in his left hand. Oh no. It can't be. Not...rats! I'm sorry Julia. But I must give you up.

Part 3: Chapter IV

Finally. They are allowing me to gather myself back up. The guards have been considerate and fed me a well balanced meal. My hair is growing back, as well as my process of thinking. They even slipped a box of cigarretes. "Victory Cigarretes" it read. My thoughts are becoming more clearer. I am accepting the rules of Ingsoc. My grammar is also becoming more rich in Newspeak. Yes. How easy it is to agree.
Oh no, what have I done. My blissful reverie of the Golden Country has brought attention to the guards. I must have screamed Julia's name. Either that or the usual thoughtcrime of Big Brother. Thump, thump, thump. My heart's rapid beating is corresponding with the tramping boots of the guards. I am probably going to Room 101, oh well. When O'brien comes, I cannot lie. I hate Big Brother.

Part 3: Chapter III

O'brien is wrong. Hope does lie in the proletarians; we both know it does. For now in this corrupt society, their untapped potential is the only source for the destruction of Ingsoc.
Even though the belief of Big Brother has captured the ignorant minds, he has not captured mine. O'brien cannot control the stars or the universe. Yes. Now I know their secret. Because of their brainwashing motives, and especially the fear they implant in each individual, they think they can control anything. All they want is power. Not even for humanitarian reasons, but for the word itself.
The interrogations have gone too far. Doesn't he see I confessed everything I know? And my eyes, I can barely see anything in this dark labyrinth. But I saw...my reflection. My frail fingers, knocked-out teeth, bald scalp. Worst of all, I saw O'brien, with his full-fleshed body chuckling behind my complexion. I am reaching the point...the point of betrayal.

Part 3: Chapter II

Enough with the questions, enough! Each contradict themselves beyond doublethink, so it is O'brien commiting the crime, not me. I wish I can take off this contraption. I can't take it any more. Each jolt can power up 100 telescreens, therefore why waste it on me. This pain is too much. I see one, two, three, four. Count them your self! Four fingers you hold up, thus I say four. 2 + 2 does not make 5, and you can definetely not float off the ground like "a bubble" (considering your weight). Big Brother is imaginary; in a sense, he does not occupy the same amount of matter in this world as me, meaning I am real. Release me this instant! You can hurt me, punish me, tortue me to the fullest, but you will never break me. At least I am proud to say that I have not betrayed anyone, including Julia.

Part 3: Chapter I

Where am I. It seems...no, it must be the Ministry of Love. Due to my aquaintance with one of the guards, I am able to write in this diary; but not for long. Its over. Each telescreen on each wall knows what I am writing. No matter. In this dreaded place where time freezes and malnutrition occurs, anybody would do anything, just to stop the pain. I wonder what time it is, what year, what month...Julia! I trust her. Our love is stronger than this wreched odor of this densley-populated cell. Let me count. One, two, three,...Eleven. Eleven comrades are in the same state as me, all jumbled on this 5 milimeter bench near me. Near me, a elderly woman holds the same name as I. Maybe she is my mother. Who can you trust. Even Parsons, the least I would expect to be here was given by his daughter. Poor fellow. His teeth have been chattering ever since he came. Now if I can get up and swiftly snatch that bread crumb on the floor I can make it through another hour.

Part 2 Chapter X

Dear diary,
Forgive me reader for the following incomplete sentences, but the Thought Police has arrived! The telescreen behind the... Mr. Charrington with the fake appear... I am to remain still, but I must write, even if they burn this. Ugh!
I must write, even if I... Ugh! Julia. She is being brutally beaten, worse than I. I am sorry for not completing this. This might be my final conclusion in the diary of Winston Smith. Farewell to whoever obtains this. Remember, whoever controls the past, controls the...