Regeneration. I bet I know what you're thinking; "Oh gee, I sure wish I could do that! Then I could let my stupid little pudding brain do whatever it wanted without consequence!"
Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but there's some pretty nasty fine print. First off, there's the pain. The terrible, terrible pain, like being enveloped by the sun from the inside out. Not that you'd know what that's like, but it's not pleasant.
Then the goodbyes, always always the goodbyes. I hate them, every time, they never get easier. "But Doctor, you'll see them right away!" I hear you shout. Wrong. I won't see them, The Doctor will see them. When the time comes for me to say my tearful goodbye, that will be it. No more Gray-Hair-Frowny-Face, it will be someone completely different, and I'll only be a part of his memory.
And I don't know who will greet my companions after I've gone. This horrible uncertainty and fear, not for myself, but for them. What kind of man will they see? Will they see a man at all? Will I be tall? Short? Fat? Skinny?
Good? Evil?
Will I greet them with a smile and whisk them off on some new adventure? Or will I wrap my hands 'round their neck and try to squeeze the life out of them? I don't know. And I never will.
Pain.
Sadness.
Fear.
That is regeneration. That is what I have been forced through, time after time, all so that I can continue to be your hero, keep playing Doctor for you pathetic, stupid, wonderful little apes. I want to help, you all deserve it, but sometimes
just sometimes
I wish I could choose death.