To whom it should concern (everyone):
Hey, it’s me. It has been a while since I visited. I had such plans to hang out in 2020 (didn’t we all?) I thought it might be best to catch up on a few things.
I write to you as a yankophile. I grew up on a generous diet of American culture. Films, TV shows, comic books and music all permeated my brain from the start. I gleefully soaked up the pretty looking people with perfect teeth and listened intently to the wide and entertaining variation of accents. I never cared for country…
Tired? Stressed? Disillusioned and dreading that commute and the daily grind of seemingly endless meetings? Frustrated with crap sandwiches eaten hunched over your computer or during a meeting, leading you to over-indulge in over-priced coffees to get enough supposed pep to look like you care?
This isn’t an advertisement for a health pill or a spa treatment or an advertisement for an interesting piece of writing about mental health.
This was me, eighteen months ago. Dead in the eyes and held together by a thread of over-caffeinated anxiety.
Why I chose to skedaddle
I was in my twelfth year of…
An Irishman on Brexit Island
A human perspective on how Brexit is throwing up the biggest national identity crisis of our times.
I should explain something about myself. I live in London. I have done for twelve years now. I am Irish. I am also Northern Irish, if you were to draw the distinction (and dependent on the person, the importance of this distinction can vary wildly) Following the last general election, I have spent a lot of time explaining the context of the DUP, the Good Friday Agreement and what it all means in regards to Brexit…
Lord knows I can’t afford therapy, so some self indulgent ramblings will have to do.