Choose Life

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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, spirit- 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 a fucking IT JOB which pays you hell lot of money?

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From long I needed some kind of break (Vacation)- probably to settle few days on the jungles of Himalaya , to visualize the simmering promises and images that I see glittering in the sky , to solve the mysteriously written life by god and to some extent by me. Then I realized that with my untended intellect had to lean on the crutch of faith to negotiate the inscrutability of life.

Could not have defined it better than the above short poem by John in Trainspotting .



PS:courtesy Trainspotting - John Hodge . If one is not getting the feel of this poem then plz do watch the Movie at least initial 20 minutes.