save the last dance for me

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
sprit-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 the fuck would anyone want to do a thing like that?

It’s been almost a decade since Renton did his monologue, reading Irvine Welsh lines over PF Project’s techno sounds…

I have chosen lots of jobs since then. A couple of unfinished careers. A television that big I cannot afford to buy it. A car. No washing machine whatsoever. Too many cd players to mention. I open the tins myself, no electricity needed, thank you. My health is fine, although I am not much of a sleeper. I tend to keep my cholesterol low and my dental smile as white as possible. I avoid mortgage, payments and repairs in general. I choose my friends among the ones who choose me first. I’d like a luxurious suite on a holiday abroad. I've always ben more into DIY punk than DIY IKEA furniture. My wear is not that stylish, as I only replace clothes that are too old but not that old to be old-fashioned. I have a great couch, a gift from my best man, but usually, I lie there, I don’t sit. I hate watching tv, so if I had one, I’d use it for my playstation games. I used to love junk food but now it all tastes the same so I am not up for it. I may be miserable and I may be rotten, but I won’t be the judge of that. I am not in a position to embarrass anyone apart from myself. The future’s so bright, I gotta wear shades…

I have chosen lots of other things as well, some way more important than the ones mentioned above. Some choices were crucial, some proved to be wrong, some are still in question, some don’t worth bothering. You could say that I even have few regrets but, more or less, I’ve had my share of all flavors, so I got no complaints…

However, I never felt that I had to choose a life. And If I did… then… I am doomed – ‘cause I haven’t realized that the life I am living is the life I once chose. Like a true Nick Hornby hero, I prefer my options open – that’s why I still keep my final choice for later, like the most delicious bite from your food, that you technically corner at the side of your plate. Save the best for last, they say… Well… why am I beginning to wonder whether that “last” is not that far away after all?…