Half-written posts about Brexit

I’ve tried to write about Brexit. My brain, my heart, my fingers lock. To write is to process and make sense of things, and I don’t think I yet believe that there’s sense to be made. All conversational roads lead back to the EU. Context has become irrelevant. Work, pub, Twitter, wedding, birthday party, dinner party, work, pub, work. Brexit, Brexit, Tories and Brexit. Labour implosion. Misery. Doom.

I have resigned myself to the fact that I’m not going to get a coherent post together anytime soon. But I also fear that I will remain blog-blocked and bloated for as long as I fail to get a post out. So here, for your reading pleasure, a brief overview of some of the posts I have not managed to write properly:

The love letter to Europe

In which I write dreamy, romantic odes to some of the Europeans who have enriched my life. The well-spoken, beautiful Austrian with whom I nursed a broken heart at 19. The sweet-hearted Spaniard who once sent me a framed photograph of a lamp. The strong-fingered Italian who has become an Instagram star. All true; a bit mushy; really intense.

Ponderings on our voting system (I)

In which I am saddened that our political system means that people genuinely feel disenfranchised and that their vote cannot possibly make a difference.

Ponderings on our voting system (II)

In which I am filled with righteous anger that people are too stupid to realise that a 2-option referendum is obviously a completely different kettle of fish to a general election, and obviously their vote matters, idiots. 

Ponderings on our voting system (III)

In which I am filled with an even more righteous anger that it is legal for sixteen year olds in the UK to get married. Sixteen year olds! In the UK! Child marriage is not ok, you guys! And tie myself in knots trying to decide if I think that that means that they definitely should also be able to vote and trying to reconcile how completely nonsense I was at 16 with how brilliant all the 16 year olds are who I now meet.

PortmantNO

In which I am filled with the most righteous anger of all at how ugly a word “Brexit” is.

LEOPARDS

In which I riff off this tweet and try to link Brexit to my recent (also distressingly as-yet unblogged) holiday in Tanzania. A spectacularly unsuccessful format.

My Friends Have Opinions!

In which I challenge myself to explore my friends’ pub claims, including but not limited to:

  • Anybody who is not a registered member of a political party is an irresponsible citizen whose opinion should be disregarded.
  • Brexit is actually a good thing that will lead to a resurgence of the radical left.
  • Referendums are fundamentally undemocratic and are tools of fascism.

Hey, come to the pub with me you guys. It’s totally fun and chill.

Guys?

This one

In which I desperately try to get to 500 words so I can let myself off the hook.

OK, BYE.
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