IF I HAD IT TO DO OVER AGAIN --

I'd be a teen heartthrob like Justin Bieber was. It'd start around age 14 and last til I was, say, 21. During those years I'd ride that bullet train of fame and rake in $100M from a string of bubblegum pop hits with titles like "Be My Girl" and "Girl Of My Dreams" before I inevitably flame out and land on the trash heap of other forgotten heartthrobs who outlived their teen appeal. I'd try and fail to secure a new record deal and get no more offers for work in music or TV until my agent finally drops me.

In an advancing state of depression, I'd piss away my fortune while getting strung out on drugs and alcohol until I was flat broke and completely unemployable. Eventually I'd be homeless and found sleeping on a park bench by a photographer from the National Enquirer who'd take several photos that run in the next issue under the headline: From Winner to Total Loser. I'd become a shell of my former self whose life was little more than a warning to others until I finally shoot myself in the head alone in a back alley at only 36 years old. My body is found two days later with my nose, ears and fingertips chewed by rats.

Or maybe I'd just be a butterfly.