Brexit’d Out

I’m sure all Miss W’s readers are well-informed citizens and are up to date with what happened on the 24th of June, (oh fateful day) in the UK. If you live in a cave and have not heard what happened, please go here and inform yourself.

Although I was quietly optimistic that the UK would be wise and choose to remain in the EU, on the 24th I woke with a sense of dread, almost knowing that Brexit had won. A few of my friends in London had said in the days previous to Brexit, Nahhhh, don’t worry, everyone will vote to stay in, of course they will, this country isn’t that stupid… (hmm, not sure, just a year ago people voted David Cameron back in for a second term in office…) However, as we all know, London is a bubble, and the rest of the UK is nothing like it… as the vote proved.

I grew up in an area where I just knew the Leave campaign would be strong, so I half expected something like this to happen.

When I saw the full result (for fancy graphs go here) I was in complete shock, even though, I somewhat expected it. I spent most of the 24th in tears, scrolling through news sites on my phone. As you might know from previous posts I am also a Spanish citizen (THANK GOD). I have mixed feelings about the whole business of being British anyway, but that day I almost burnt my British passport. I’m glad I didn’t though, but only because it has a unicorn on it, and I believe it is the only country to have that.

A few weeks later and I am so exhausted of hearing about Brexit… that is all people talk about, on the street, on the bus, at work, down the pub. I’m Brexit’d out.

For me the worst thing about this vote is the blindness and ignorance of the Leave campaign, and the way they duped uneducated and disenfranchised people into voting for a project that they knew was doomed to fail… Thanks Bojo, Thanks Nige.

I was most of all angry at David Cameron for having led the country to this point to save his own sorry arse and stay in power and garner favour with his backbenchers, and then to end up resigning on the day of the result… and most of all, disappointed and angry at older Leave voters who believe this is the best thing for the future of the country, when frankly, in 20 years, they’re all going to be dead and the youth will have to pick up the pieces. A prime example of this was a lady I had a conversation with on the tube who got on at Sloane Square (surprise, surprise) who said “Oh, yes, I don’t live in this country, I couldn’t live here anymore…I live in Portugal, but I voted out because I think the UK is stronger alone” ah well, I hope you have fun coming back to live in soggy old Blighty lady, because, not sure if you realised, but Portugal happens to be in the EU.

ARGH. Anyway, I spent the last three weeks being insanely angry, to the point where I could feel my rage bubbling up through my teeth (Don’t ask. I don’t know how that happens either) The very low point was when I got into a political slanging match with some Leave supporters at my weekly ceramics class. Not my finest hour, but Miss W was proud to pout at them when they said “What would YOU know about Europe and the EU anyway?” HA. Kiss my EU citizen ass b*tch, when you need a visa to go on your jollies to Benidorm. (And these are just the remnants of my Brexit rage)

Don’t even get me started on our new Prime Minister… I am not at all a fan of Mrs May, with her past record of cutting Non-EU spousal visas, scrapping protection for victims of domestic violence amongst other fantastic decisions, I highly doubt she will do this country any good. I believe she will simply finish hammering the nails that Thatcher deftly placed on the coffin lid of all public services, workers’ rights and the like… clearly, the stuff of fairy tales.

Before studying journalism I was mildly interested in politics, but during my degree I became enraged and passionate during a particular module called Politics and the Media. (Thanks to Chris Roberts, plumber turned politics lecturer and one of Miss W’s heroes). However, the disillusionment and downright lies that have been bandied around in the last few weeks have exhausted me. I am tired, and disgusted. I cannot sustain this level of anger, and hatred. I still believe Brexit is a huge mistake, this is proven by the chaos around us, the plummeting Pound and instability. I am now on the verge of not caring. If 52% of the country wants to cannibalise this society, then go forth and f*ck thyselves, but for the record, you won’t be taking me with you.

And, for those of you who disagree with me, I don’t care. Fine, comment, shout, do whatever you want. This is my answer to you:

 

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