Black and White

Life is simple, that's not to say it's easy. There are clear paths, simple right and wrong. Contrary to popular belief, the world is black and white. You're the one that adds color. You are the artist. There's a path you can take, the "right" path, the moral path, and on it, you can stroll all the way to the end of your life completely unaffected. And for some reason, every time I hit that fork in the road, I'll always take the path lined with willow trees, howls in the night, and lightning strikes.

Because how boring the path is that shines so bright, with the sun that smiles down on you and with all the fucking tire swings. I've fought my whole life against the mundane, the banal, the boring. But, is it really so bad? A simple life with simple pleasures. A moral life without the drama. A perfectly and contently boring existence without constant pandemonium. I'm not too sure anymore. I think it would be a nice change of pace.

So, cheers, to settling down, to making good decisions, to not fucking up, to growing up.

Really, my life plays out a bit like Trainspotting (you know, minus the whole bit about heroin addiction).

[First lines]
"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."

I used revel in those words (smart yeah, the rationalized words of a fucked up heroin junkie), but yeah, that's how I used to view life. Hell, that's probably still how I view it. But I'm trying, I'm trying real hard to make it to those last lines.

[Last lines]
Now I've justified this to myself in all sorts of ways. It wasn't a big deal, just a minor betrayal. Or we'd outgrown each other, you know, that sort of thing. But let's face it, I ripped them off - my so called mates. But Begbie, I couldn't give a shit about him. And Sick Boy, well he'd done the same to me, if he'd only thought of it first. And Spud, well okay, I felt sorry for Spud - he never hurt anybody. So why did I do it? I could offer a million answers - all false. 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."

Lost and trying,

-Bohemian Dandy