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My thoughts adrift, the letters spilt like flowing wine in halcyon days. The single stroke which sealed my guilt dislodged the thoughts of all the ways they erased our identity and rewrote all our memories while we forgot our history and all the things that used to be. As if possessed with its own mind to channel my subconscious sighs, the pen drew ink across the page and voiced my undetected rage. To my surprise, refocused eyes discovered ten or twenty lines that, spoken or unspoken, were but symptoms of the crime within. Blinded once, but now I see the terrible reality that all this talk of loyalty results in free will's atrophy. The individuality of former party devotees could overthrow the ministry if multiplied by only two or three. Discarding what resides in me, that fatalistic apathy, this private revolutionary now drawn to act so recklessly. For there is no true privacy with surveillance screens and word police. Despite my efforts to conceal, the hidden things will be revealed.