Choose Light. Choose a Jedi. Choose a cause. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big lightsabre. Choose smugglers, armed cruisers, droids and who wins at chess. Choose good health, low gravity and Karmic assurance. Choose Tatooine. Choose a small cave in the desert. Choose your apprentice. Choose loose robes and matching beard. Choose a three-part saga on higher planets and a range of fucking factions. Choose The WAY and wondering who the fuck you are during the reign of the Republic. Choose hanging around dead-end spaceports watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing StormTroopers, stuffing fucking junk dialogue into their mouths. Choose twinkling away at then end of it all, hamming your last in a miserable void, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you trained to replace yourself.
I chose not to choose Light.