Forgot to add this to the Truffspotting poster:
Choose Lies. Choose a 10k jog. Choose an Instagram career. Choose a family. Choose a bleeping big television in your tiny bleeping living room, choose hair transplants, badly parked cars, losing your lounge for a walk in wardrobe. Choose good health, 5 to couch k, and dental insurance for your massive bleeping veneers. Choose interest only mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home and duck up the layout. Choose your friends. Choose poorly fitting leisurewear and zara mediums. Choose a three-piece suit comprising of bike shorts, a t-shirt and a blazer in a range of bleeping fabrics. Choose Diddy DIY and wondering who the duck you are on Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing Instagram reels, stuffing bleeping 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 facetune?