CHOOSE LIFE. CHOOSE A JOB. CHOOSE A CAREER. CHOOSE A FAMILY. CHOOSE A F**KING 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 F**KING FABRICS. CHOOSE DIY AND WONDERING WHO THE F**K YOU ARE ON SUNDAY MORNING. CHOOSE SITTING ON THAT COUCH WATCHING MIND-NUMBING, SPIRIT-CRUSHING GAME SHOWS, STUFFING F**KING 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, F**KED 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 SOMETHIN’ ELSE. AND THE REASONS? THERE ARE NO REASONS. WHO NEEDS REASONS WHEN YOU’VE GOT HEROIN?
