IRC-Galleria

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 leisure wear and
matching luggage.
Choose a three piece suite
on hire purchase in a range
of fucking fabrics. Choose
DIY and wondering who you
are on a Sunday morning.
Choose sitting on that couch
watching mind-numbing sprit-
crushing game shows,
stuffing fucking junk food
into your mouth.
Choose rotting away at the
end of it all, pishing you
last in a miserable home,
nothing more than an
embarrassment 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 need reasons
when you've got heroin?