Stakes Are High

As the days go on, you feel your filial duties gripping you in the gut (pulling out your bowels would begin to rival your parents' fiscal, if not emotional, sacrifice for your well-being), groin (the urge to fornicate only reminds you of the filial duties you could be performing in the meantime), and head (from which tears are wrung as you contemplate your manifold betrayals, small and large).

Don't feel like performing your filial duties anymore? Here are ten viable alternatives:

1. Your choice of either tortured self-loathing or somber, existential grief (but regrettably not both) to accompany you into vigilant Death's open arms;
2. Spooning out your eyeballs with a spork;
3. Simply diving head-on into the life of hedonism, drugs, and crime that befits your charred, withered soul;
   
4. Checking yourself into a mountaintop monastery to seek atonement--under the guise of pursuing divine contemplation of a meaningful existence which will, nonetheless, forever elude you;
5. Requesting asylum at an insane asylum, using your insanity as leverage;
6. Purposefully losing yourself in the woods in the hope that you will be saved and nurtured by a beneficent family of wolves, which will grant you a second shot at life as a furless wolf-child;
7. Becoming an artist;
8. Sealing an arcane blood pact with the Devil;
9. Directing your remaining, if feeble, energies towards performing cold-blooded acts of Terror upon innocent, filially-responsible citizens;
   
10. Saving the Earth from a cataclysmic catastrophe involving: alien invasion, meteors, plague, nuclear fallout, melting polar icecaps, giant robots, zombies, herd animals gone mad, biochemical warfare, misbehaving artificial intelligences, postmodernism, corporate-enforced subjugation, rampant ennui, the Four Horsemen (or equivalent apocalypse-bringers), or any combination thereof, thus redeeming yourself as a valid human being.