George Orwell. One thousand nine hundred eighty four (№ 387907)

For whom he writes a diary? he thought again. For the future? For the past? One way or another - for the imaginary world. And he himself waited not death elimination. Diary will turn to ash, and he in pairs. Only the Thought Police read the diary before you destroy these pages and the memory of them. How can we look towards the future when you're not will be gone, won't even anonymous word scribbled on a piece of paper?