Emigration; it started as an idle threat, a childish act of dissonance to make my objections seem more profound and heartfelt; now it’s fast becoming an intention.
How did that happen?
Truth is, I don’t know. All I know is that I’m feeling increasingly trapped in this country and need to leave before I erupt. It could just be that I need a holiday, that a week of doing nothing will reset my anxiety levels to ‘mmm, nice’ and paint the nation a rosy hue. I doubt it, but you never know.
As it is, I find myself making enquiries and planning ahead so that hopefully, by the time of the next election, I can be primed to jump ship before they start jabbing RFID chips into people’s eyes and installing viewscreens in every home.
Then again, maybe the government will stop behaving like some vast and insidious overseer, bent on intruding into all aspects of our lives, and I won’t have to emigrate before I’m arrested for civil disobedience. I’d like that, all my friends live here.
Who knows, maybe eventually I’ll learn to love big brother.
Man, life can be complicated.
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