trainspotting

Choose life. 

Choose a job. 

Choose a career. 

Choose a family. 

Choose a fucking big television, Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. 

Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. 

Choose fixed- interest mortgage repayments. 

Choose a starter home. 

Choose your friends. 

Choose leisure wear and matching luggage. 

Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics.

 Choose DIY and wondering who you are on a Sunday morning. 

Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing sprit- crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. 

Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. 

Choose your future. 

Choose life...

But why would I want to do a thing like that?