"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 DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mindnumbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing 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 embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you 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 need reasons when you've got heroin?
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