St. George's Day. And I've never felt less proud to be British.

St. George's Day. A day to be proud to be English.

Proud to be part of a country that launched a British jobs for British workers campaign; and gave over 80% to foreign workers, a trend that continued when tens of thousands of people were hit by redundancy and have been unable to find work since. Supported by a private sector jobcentre that exists seemingly only to try and catch people out and not physically or actively do anything to help people back into work. Underpinned by one of the campaigning political party's proposal to pay migrants upto £50,000 if they find work outside of the UK to help stem the population boom, but won't dedicate that sort of money to British citizens who actually want to emigrate but can't because they don't have money.

A country that has become obsessed with political correctness and what is morally right or wrong to the extent where anybody with an opinion to challenge it gets labelled a bigot against whatever affinity the opinion concerns. This isn't encouraging tolerance; it's force feeding it and breeding contempt. Still, a nation that now confuses national pride with racism, from those that believe in it to those that don't.

A country with a media system that can't decide whether it's working class or middle class and preys like vultures on every soul thrust into the public spotlight, whether they wanted to be there or not. They love you then they hate you or, worse still, make you a figure of public ridicule. Some sign up for the merry go round, some get forced on it. One thing's for sure, the ride is never pleasant. Nobody gets off without paying the price.

Celebrities and high profile sporting figures abusing their position and financial power to humiliate and ruin the lifes of the ordinary man or woman.

TV chat shows under the fraudulent guise of "support" drag out the dregs of council estates in a bearbaiting exercise that still bizarrely make them feel like they're stars in scumville; the middle class sneer at what Britain has become because the poor people are taking advantage of the freebies that are being handed to them and rolling round like pigs in muck. There's no middle ground, no room to despair at the actions of either side, because that places you in the grey area that simply doesn't exist anymore.

A police force that is inherently corrupt and is by and large more cowardly than the public it pretends to protect. A general public that is more likely to run off with your dropped bag of shopping than pick it up for you. A lack of respect for the elderly; a lack of respect for the youth; where once the 20-35 year old white male was perceived king, he must now be denounced forever more. Where teenagers breed to increase their own income to feed their drug habits; where speaking out about crime is more likely to see you killed or beaten than the perpretators punished.

A land where a man cannot protect his own home.

A land where people who were born here and been alive longer than their accusers are told to go back where they came from.

A country where families can live in fear of unprovoked, repeated attacks because they happen to share a postcode with subhuman morons.

A country that still tries to desperately believe that being English stands for anything good anymore.

I want to escape being English. But the country won't let me.