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 leisurewear and matching luggage.
Choose a three piece suit on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics.
Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose
sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows,
stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end
of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an
embarassment 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?

I chose not to choose life. I chose something else. And the reasons? There
are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you've got heroin?