Mark "Rent-boy" Renton

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 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, pissing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked 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?