A journey

As the train gathered speed, he suddenly remembered.

It came unexpectedly and paralyzed him, as if he had suddenly lost control over his own memories. The views outside the window were moving faster with every second, but he didn’t see them anymore. With eyes still fixed on the dirty pane, he sat frozen, half-consciously letting some old images flood his mind. Fascinating that it took only one little memory, carelessly let into consciousness, to cause the whole avalanche of forgotten details.

Nineteen Eighty-Four

Recently, I’ve re-read Nineteen Eighty-Four and… MY GOD, this is SO MUCH better in English.

First time I read it in Polish translation, almost three years ago. When I borrowed it from the local library, I knew nothing more about it than that it is a brilliant futuristic novel, written in 1949, set in 1984 and that my beloved Muse have just released the whole album based on it.

What Muse likes, me likes too – that was (and still is) the rule.