“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 can 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 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 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…
…The truth is that I’m a bad person. But, that’s
gonna change – I’m going to change. This is the last of that sort of
thing. Now I’m cleaning up and I’m moving on, going straight and
choosing life. I’m looking forward to it already. I’m gonna be just like
you. The job, the family, the fucking big television. The washing
machine, the car, the compact disc and electric tin opener, good health,
low cholesterol, dental insurance, mortgage, starter home, leisure
wear, luggage, three piece suite, DIY, game shows, junk food, children,
walks in the park, nine to five, good at golf, washing the car, choice
of sweaters, family Christmas, indexed pension, tax exemption, clearing
gutters, getting by, looking ahead, the day you die.”—Trainspotting
Oh, you’ve got green eyes Oh, you’ve got blue eyes Oh, you’ve got grey eyes And I’ve never seen anyone quite like you before No, I’ve never met anyone quite like you before
“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 can 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 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 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…
…The truth is that I’m a bad person. But, that’s gonna change – I’m going to change. This is the last of that sort of thing. Now I’m cleaning up and I’m moving on, going straight and choosing life. I’m looking forward to it already. I’m gonna be just like you. The job, the family, the fucking big television. The washing machine, the car, the compact disc and electric tin opener, good health, low cholesterol, dental insurance, mortgage, starter home, leisure wear, luggage, three piece suite, DIY, game shows, junk food, children, walks in the park, nine to five, good at golf, washing the car, choice of sweaters, family Christmas, indexed pension, tax exemption, clearing gutters, getting by, looking ahead, the day you die.”—Trainspotting
