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 a three piece suit on hire purchased in a range of f—king fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the f—k you are on a 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, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, f—ked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose a 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?
Renton, Trainspotting
4 comments:
joyeux anniversaire jay!
ahooo. matanda na tayo. haha.
what have you accomplished from the last 24 hours?
*confetti showers*
ei mister, how about some birthday blow-out? haha. kiddin'.
happiest birthday, jay! i blew a candle for ya. :)
enkyu sa mga greeting. hoi jep, i saved a nation from a terrorist attack that would have annihilated the entire Filipino race, so thank me.
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