Monday, 2 January 2017

A Brexit Diary Day 2

I am trying something new with this piece, it is very much a first draft. Any feedback welcome. Thank you. 

For day one click here

For audio click here

Wednesday, June, 24th, 2026

I’m writing this by torchlight at 3.45 am. As usual, at this time of night, there’s a power cut but even if there wasn’t, I wouldn’t have the lights on. I don’t want to draw attention to myself, you never know who’s outside watching. But I need to get my thoughts down on paper.  I’ve been restless ever since the celebrations. I felt dirty, used; like I’d just had bad sex. The first thing I did when I got home was stand in the shower for as long as I dared washing the filth of the day from my skin.

I watched the late news from behind the metaphorical sofa. I was hoping my face wouldn’t be shown; I didn't need the whole world to know I’d been at the parade.  People would stop to talk to me about it and that would mean more lying, more acting. Also, who knows what my face looked like when I was singing the national anthem; sometimes I can't help but portray my true feelings.
Luckily, I wasn’t featured, but I did see three people I knew belting out the National Anthem or cheering the Queen at the top of their voices.
I must admit Heather, Sarah and Ray were not people I’d expect to see at the rally. But then again they wouldn’t expect to see me there either.  But it got me to thinking, what if all the people there were remainers? What if we'd been invited, in order to humiliate us, to force us into singing the anthem and cheering Farage? It seems a bit far-fetched maybe, but don't enemies of the system make the best participants in pro-regime parades? All of us are scared to show our real feelings in case the person next to us reported us, or set upon us, so we shout from the rooftops, sing with gusto, show our true passion.
All the way home I was asking myself how I would have reacted if I'd seen someone not putting 110% into the national anthem or if I'd seen a British man eating an Ice Cream. Would I have turned a blind eye and risked being tarnished by the same brush or would I have shown my patriotic spirit and called him or her out? I like to think I would have given a little wink, show that they weren’t alone, but I know the reality. What would Heather have done, or Sarah or Ray?
Have they come around to thinking that Britain is better with this damn wall around it? Surely not, but who can tell? Anything is the truth of you choose to believe it and if you hear it enough.

Take today’s event for example. It will be repeated ad nauseam on the rolling news channel. Already, they are exaggerating the numbers – our invitations said we were one of the lucky thirty-five thousand, but the news said there were upwards of sixty-five thousand there. There will be those that will believe that figure, because it was on the BBC, so it must be true. maybe, Heather, Sarah, and Roy are among the new believers.
But no! I think it’s time that I contacted a few old friends. Talked to a few people from yesteryear, find out if I really am alone, or if there's more to life in Brexit Britain than we are allowed to believe. It’s time to turn to torch off now I don’t want to arouse suspicions of anyone who might be watching.

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