Monday, September 10

Choose un-life

Choose un-life.
Choose an empire.
Choose Opeth's damnation.
Choose 6 lieutenants.
Choose a big fucking Soul Reaver.
Choose clan symbols, sanctuaries, and machines that blow smoke into the sky. Choose Immortality, low erythrocyte count, and dental insurance.
Choose leather pants and matching shoulder-drapes.
Choose her and wondering what the fuck are those things on her back when she walks in on that Sunday morning.
Choose throwing him into the abyss then run like hell when he comes back 500 years later, pissed off and with a wraith-blade that has your name on it.
Choose chucking the whole thing at the end of it all, leaving this miserable world to that selfish fucked up brat , while you and she go back to the past and try to save history. Choose a prophecy.
Choose a paradox...
CHOOSE: REFUSE THE SACRIFICE
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choose life (trainspotting) made me to write this

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