You know I've finally found the incentive to learn German.

Which brings me to this (not really but hey). I saw a job posting today in Design Week for a Graphic Designer position in Brussels. Now for you Yanks out there; Brussels is in the relatively small and peaceful nation of Belgium. Now I know that makes it ripe for invasion but the Germans did state their case for that some sixty years ago and it didn't turn out to well for them either. I'm just sayin'...

Anyway, the point being is that I've only been back in dear ole' Blighty for a couple of months and I'm already thinking about leaving again. And I'm not the only one. More Brits are leaving the UK than ever before, an estimated 300,000 people a year. Is the quality of life here so bad..? No of course not, this is a great country.

So why? I think it's pretty simple really. There's an increasing amount of Brits who don't like the company of other Brits. We're supposed to be some kind of civilized and sophisticated nation. Oh the irony. Have you been to our towns and cities on a Saturday night..? The epidemic of binge-drinkin'-fightin'-loutishness (and that's just the girls) is unstoppable. I think it says a lot about us Brits, there's this aggressive disposition simmering away. It's like some Jeckle & Hyde thing. And we don't like the foreigners do we? Ugh, the casual racism, the Empire rhetoric. And always harping about the one and only bloody World Cup we won back in 19-whogivesashit-66. But it's not that simple. I like to think it's a step towards a borderless world. People should spend at least some of their life abroad. I like being in Europe, and it's the best thing for Britain. But it brings out the predictable negatives in people and shows how dumb as fuck they are. But that goes for most countries, the grass ain't any greener.

I think the other day sums it up for why would consider leaving again. This may not sound like much to you but see it from my perspective. I was in the universal shit hole known as Crewe (the grim North West) trying to find a couple of Cycle shops on a particular street. It was one of those pre-war terraced red brick neighbourhoods with those scenic council estates in the background. So I'm waiting to cross this road junction when this shitty ford Sierra pulls up behind the car that was waiting to turn onto the main street. There was ample space for me to keep walking with out getting in the way but no, the fucker hits the pedal to shut the gap, and he waited until I was half way across so I had to jump back. Why? Because I'm a person of colour (thanks God for that) and the people in the car consisted of two big fat skinheads; bare bodies to show off their tattoos. And three skanky, syphilitic, scum-bag whores in the back. Believe me, I could feel their aggression. I avoided looking at them as that would have been enough to get the shit kicked out of me for sure. But I kept thinking all that day that's it's scum like that made my experience growing up here so bad. It's people like them who I wanted to get away from by going abroad.

I mean sure, I went abroad to advance my career, broaden my horizons and see some of the world while I had the opportunity etc. But the deciding factor that made me do it was represented so well by those people sitting in that car looking the way they look, thinking the things they think, being who they are and hating me for what (they think) I am.