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i've always loved Barker's short stories, so The Books Of Blood have been a staple in my library since i was in high school. The Thief Of Always, The Hellbound Heart, Lord Of Illusions, Imajica. In my opinion; he is one of the best horror writers of all time, every book or story of his that i've read just pulled me in and i couldn't stop reading... some i had to read over and over.
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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 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 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 your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrasment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life.
But why would I want to do a thing like that?
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