Perhaps I deserve this.
Actually there’s no perhaps about it.
Let’s say it’s a definite. A certainty.
I feel very alone right now. Quite scared. Quite frightened. Nowhere to turn. Friends, although I use the term loosely, have abandoned me. Or, at the very least, are unable or unwilling to defend me.
And so I am here. Alone. In my wilderness.
Convicted without trial.
But yes, I probably deserve it.
You see, I voted leave.
I voted leave because I didn’t want closer integration with Europe, a European army, a European police force. I didn’t want decisions about defence being taken out of our hands. And I knew some people whose business ideas had been strangled by European directives. So I voted to leave.
And now I’m a racist. Now I’m a bigot.
It doesn’t matter that I’ve travelled in the Muslim world. It doesn’t matter I’ve travelled amongst Hindus and Sikhs and Buddhists. It doesn’t matter that I worked in a Jewish community in London.
No. I’m a racist.
The rise in attacks in immigrants that have occurred since the referendum are despicable, unwarranted and vile. Offenders should be locked up or sent to foreign countries for re-educating or a taste of their prisons. I condemn those attacks without hesitation. They are a stain on our society.
But when I get called a racist and call upon my friends to condemn those attacks on me ?.
No. No word I my defence. No willingness to condemn. Nothing. Avoidance. Complicity by silence.
So. Because I made a choice. Because I voted. Or, because I voted in a way, in a democracy, so many find unpalatable and cannot see beyond blind racism.
Might as well be dead.
Here. In my wilderness.
So let the grass grow over my weary body, let me lie here.
Just let me die.