Work Text:
The trumpets roar in the heat of the enormous crowd and morning warmth of the early dawn. The sun in its substantial glory casted a glowy shadow. The sky–no longer grey and gloomy, the clouds far from the shaft of light. And the crowd–the crowd stretched a teethful of a smile through the halls for this very day and this day was truly magnificent. Their skin gently flaking and burning itself off through their pursed lips. The crowd did not think, nor did they speak and like cattle with no mind of their own they marched through the piercing rays of sunlight. They basked in the warm sun as sheep. Their minds did not belong to themselves and they were one connected, intertwined and intimately linked together with Big Brother. Their chants, growing louder in salute to His own glory. Winston, himself was in awe as he twirled and twangled between the heavy crowds, watching the heat glimmer underneath his eyes, he felt nothing.
What good of a human could you be if you had a mind to possess? A soul that thought was a soul that rebelled. Reality itself shifted into something more, sprouting itself into Winston’s empty mind and blooming himself with Big Brother. Reality and fiction knitted their essence together.
At the last moment of April—if it had been April, he sighed and clinked himself with Big Brother.
In the end—no rebels could ever hope to escape the siege of Big Brother. Winston still tangled in a tango of people, for the first time in his life, truly loved Big Brother. He had no thoughts, no dreams and no hopes to cling onto.
Winston could see the truth clearly now—how could he not see it before?
War is Peace
Freedom is Slavery
Ignorance is Strength