This television screen... why does it look upon me? It won't turn off... Everything was so much easier as a child, now everything... the truth has become so grim. I don't remember these rotting houses... Bright-lit tableaux, the old days. Who is this Goldstein? That dark haired girl. Who is this dark haired girl? Why does she have to be so pretty, oh how I hate her. No sex? Who are all of these people? Where did they come from... Oh Big Brother, stop staring at me, I'm not guilty of anything, or at least I think I'm not. How I wish to express myself... illegally. The urge to write, but the restraint of the illegal act, risks must be taken, down in History. Would someone catch me? Is someone catching me RIGHT NOW? Thoughtcrimes... They will come after me one day. A risk I must take. I don't care, I don't care, I don't care! How guilty I must feel... Hallucinations?...
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