"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 leisurewear and matching luggage.

Choose a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics.

Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning.

Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking 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, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself.

Choose your future. Choose life.

But 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?"

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