"Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a big. fucking television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disk players and electrical tin openers...choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on the couch, watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing 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 embarassment 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?"
In 1997, this passage shocked me so much, cruel youth? Self-destruct? Alternative life? A generation that has lost its ideals? I was tired, desperate, lonely, and directionless when I shuttled through the nightclub every night to sell my voice that year. "Trainspotting" turned out to make me cry, yet warm and not lonely-do you understand that feeling? That’s when you finally discovered that you are not the only freak among all living beings, and you are no longer alone, just like I found the Sickbaby website afterwards, that is HOME, follow the secretly sick children, we plunge into the embrace of darkness, with The morbid rot and the bleak green light warmed each other, and put those small youth sad fragments on the altar to light them, muttering to themselves in the infinitely magnified illusory smoke, hurting themselves.
Ten years have passed. I also began to wear a suit and tie, sitting in my or someone else’s Office, doing a serious presentation of proposals, pointing an infrared pen on the projector, intrigues in the rapid calculations in my heart, and then fell frustrated. Or ecstatically sign my name on that damn contract.
Nothing, really nothing, it's not a shameful thing, I just ended up like most of the lives that we spurned, and youth, just died like this.
And tonight, Lou Reed's "Perfect Day" was looping heavily in my AKG headset. I suddenly remembered the scene of this song in "Trainspotting". Mark was lying down with an overdose and sank into the carpet in hallucinations. Looking at the world numbly from the cave like an animal, death was so close to him. The drug dealer dragged him to the street and abandoned him in the taxi; the taxi driver would drag him to the entrance of the hospital and continue to abandon it on the cold concrete floor. Nurse They dragged him through the hospital corridor nervously and put them on a bench to rescue...but he could only hide helplessly in his cave looking at all this desperately, unable to move...
for "Trainspotting" The group of sick children who were crying bitterly, 10 years have passed, and the cave where we lived in the hallucination is still there? Still can't shelter anything?
Just a perfect day,
Problems all left alone,
Weekenders on our own.
It's such fun.
Just a perfect day,
You made me forget myself.
I thought I was someone else
Someone good.
Someone good? perfect day? It's really ironic.
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