We could choose a 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 our friends. Choose to give a friend a fucking phone call. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY(Do It Yourself...incase you did not know) wondering 'who the fuck you are' on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows. Choose to watch soaps filled with cheap whores who've over done their makeup to the point of making you puke. Choose stuffing junk food into every possible hole in the body. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable home. Which is nothing more than an embarrasment 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. I chose something else. And the reasons? Well, there are no reasons.
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