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 tins openers. choose good health, low cholestrol, 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 sunday morning. choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numding, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing junk food into your mouth. choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourselves. 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?

Annons

The photo has no tags

September 2012