Heard you want your country back Diary 06/07/2025
stfu
Monday 30th June
I met a Levantine refugee lesbian with an anti-immigration meme anon Xitter account. I told her she is stigmatising innocent, sensitive young men who will be accused of being behind it.
I met her at a summer party. I was chewing the ear off a start-up guy who let me chat shit about my political capital for a solid 15 minutes before revealing he was in fact a SpAd for a Tory BNOC back in the day and is still close with the circuit. Sneaky bastard.
My soon-to-be lesbian friend came to sit next to me, but I was ignoring her because I didn’t want to miss my opportunity to extract valuable resources (gossip). She introduced herself anyway. She said I follow her anon account.
I studied her face. She looked youthful, with sweet, mixed ‘oriental’ features and the voice of an actress trained for English period dramas. The type you’d cast for the matriarch, not the maiden.
She clocked my suspicion. “My account is not a racist one!” She read my mind.
Definitely a racist one then.
She pretended she didn’t know me, but every now and then would drop pointed questions that told me we had been swimming in the same waters, and I was the bigger fish.
“Why do you love the English so much?”
Because I read them when I was young and still vulnerable, and I thought they had a subtlety that only someone as blunt as I could appreciate.
“I don’t like the English, but I do love them.”
She said I am part of the loony left because I identify as a socialist. I told her I am a better nationalist than right-wingers because I support the interests of ‘nations’, i.e. people, not capital.
She is very worried that I will dox her for being a right-winger and she will lose her job. I reassure her that I would never harm the LGBTQ+ community.
I am sandwiched between her and a man I once dated and they both accuse me of being an insufferable flirt. The man I friend-zoned is taking immense pleasure in hearing the lesbian read me like a map, saying things he, a feminist, is not allowed to articulate.
She says everything about me oozes eroticism. My expressions, my clothes, my mannerisms. Am I flirting on purpose? No, I am always like this. I never flirt on purpose. I just show up. Everyone thinks I fancy them. I like to keep it that way. People are afraid of people finding out they like them. They should be afraid of people thinking they don’t. Nobody wants to see their fans suffer.
