The Anniversary of Brexit

It was the ten-year anniversary of Brexit last week. That, and we are about to see Prime Minister number seven, since the vote. I don’t normally write about politics, but I read “Your shit is unreadable” this morning: Where is the fucking hate? Everyone loves everything. Sunshine, rainbow. You stripped out the ugly parts, thinking it would make you more likeable. It just made you empty. And it made me want to write something that had been on my mind, but I had been holding off because I don’t want to seem negative. On June 23, 2016, my fellow countrymen turned up to decide: do you want to be in the European Union, or not? 52% voted to leave. Only 72% bothered to vote. On the 24th I woke up in disbelief. When I think back to that day, it was like I was a cog in a particularly complicated machine, and I had stopped meshing with the rest of the country. The country I call home and I were disconnected on a fundamental level, and I could not understand how. You could say I was in an ’echo…