Choose a virtual life. Choose a job as a social media. Choose a modern and new career. Choose not to be with your family. Choose a fucking big LCD television with a big shitty home teather and a wii or ps3 with a lot of games or maybe guitar hero. Choose smart washing machines, no cars, go on foot, go green, choose an ipod 80gb, and no tin, please. Choose organics to be healthy, to lower cholesterol and get insurance for everything in your life. Choose not to pay mortgage, the U.S. is broke. Choose to live with your mother until she dies. Choose your virtual friends on facebook, twitter, lastfm, blipfm, linked in, flickr, goodreads, and never meet them. Choose not to wear leisure clothes – because you don’t have time for this – and no matching luggage, you cannot travel with all this work. Choose a three piece suite in a website on hire purchase in a range of fucking organic fabrics. Choose not to do it yourself, because you just don’t have time to do these casual things, and don’t wonder who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning, because you don’t even know it, but you need to write about this on your blog. And everybody needs to know about your fake life. Choose sitting on that exclusive aeron chair in front of your computer seeing mind-numbing spirit-crushing youtube videos, while stuffing fucking salad into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last and miserable virtual life, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you don’t have to spawned to replace yourself. Don’t fuck. Don’t have children. Don’t choose your future. We don’t have a future. Choose a virtual life. But why would I want to do such a thing? I chose not to choose a virtual life: I chose something else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got alcohol?
Se John Hodge fosse escreve o texto do filme Trainspotting nos dias de hoje, ele seria parecido com isso dai.
via Trainspotting 21st Century.