In a week where the uncertainty of the demise of our cherished EU was well and truly at the forefront of everyone’s consciousness , I knew it didn’t sit well with me to post my usual Friday blog last week, on how I like to ponce about in my dad’s old vintage Levis jeans and wang on about my newly cut bangs that my friend did for me after work at the office.
Friday was a dark, dark day for many and definitely for me and my new bangs. When I arose to the news and slowly absorbed what Radio 4 was breaking to the nation, I kind of surprised myself when I found myself in the midst of an early morning sob, and in my bed bound state, I couldn’t quite seem to fathom why the general public had favoured the vote in this way.
I was in the bath (yes I have baths in the morning because I’m boujis AF) and thought to jokingly text my politically conscious boss that I was very sorry, but I couldn’t make it in to work today as my disappointment in the country was too much to take. I was clearly(?) joking, but I later text again saying I was most definitely going to be late, as my utter dismay had taken over my ability to get ready like a normal grown up and be on time for work. (FML – What happened to this acronym, by the way?! Answers on postcards, please.)
This may sound like an overreaction to some, but being the nostalgic wanker that I am, the notion of not being unified with the rest of the EU fills me with resolute, big, fat, sorrow – No, the EU is not necessarily representative of all that Europe stands for, but the solidarity we’ve shared is something we worked undeniably hard for post war and have maintained for over 40 years.
Ultimately, the nation will vote due to what they deem best for their own economic interest and welfare – And we vote on propaganda that has been drip fed to us during the build-up. positive (Fucking awful Farage bill boards akin to Hitler youth).
The state of uncertainty and potential confusing trajectory I feel the society in the UK will be living in now truly petrifies me and I know, although it will take 2 years to fully implement the changes, I for certain, do not want to live in a country run by a bumbling, blonde, overgrown baby whose name rhymes with ‘Morris’ and ‘Sponson’, and who considers Donald Trump an ally and friend. That my friend, is not a narrative i wish to not be a part of. N.B ( Since writing this Boris announced he would not be running, thank fuck, and Theresa May is a possible candidate – which just feels like the Iron Lady all over again.)
My favourite tweet from Hugh Laurie on the morning of the results: narrative
“Best of 3?”
This excerpt from the financial times sums up the loss pretty well for me:
“We will never know the full extent of the lost opportunities, friendships, marriages and experiences we will be denied.”
Still pretty bummed so here are some weird pictures of me looking pensive AF in my dads jeans and new bangs, anyway.