Trainspotting Quotes

By definition, you have to live until you die. Better to make that life as complete and enjoyable an experience as possible, in case death is shite, which I suspect it will be.

Choose a life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers... Choose DSY and wondering who the fuck you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit crushing game shows, stucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away in the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment 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?

Some people are easier to love when you don't have to be around them.

Love does not exist, it's like religion, the state wants you to believe in that kind of crap so they can control you, and f**k your head up.

We start off with high hopes, then we bottle it. We realise that we’re all going to die, without really finding out the big answers. We develop all those long-winded ideas which just interpret the reality of our lives in different ways, without really extending our body of worthwhile knowledge, about the big things, the real things. Basically, we live a short disappointing life; and then we die. We fill up our lives with shite, things like careers and relationships to delude ourselves that it isn’t all totally pointless.

Mates are a waste of fucking time. They are always ready to drag you down tae their level of social, sexual and intellectual mediocrity.

Now there is apparently a causal link between heroin addiction and vegetarianism.

You fucking knew that fucking cunt would fuck some cunt.

Sometimes ah think that people become junkies just because they subconsciously crave a wee bit ay silence.

People think it's all about misery and desperation and death and all that shite, which is not to be ignored, but what they forget is the pleasure of it. Otherwise we wouldn't do it. After all, we're not fucking stupid. At least, we're not that fucking stupid.

Thir must be less tae life than this

Everything in the street today seems soft focus.

Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suit on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourselves. Choose your future. Choose life… But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got heroin?

take your best orgasm, multiply the feeling by twenty, and you're still fuckin miles off the pace

The train was nearly twenty minutes late, an excellent performance by British Rail standards.

The fact that you use the term "cunt" in the same breath as "sexist", shows that you display the same muddled, fucked-up thinking oan this issue as you do oan everything else.

It's easy tae be philosophical when some other cunt's got shite fir blood.

... Basically, we live a short, disappointing life; and then we die. We fill up oor lives wi shite, things like careers and relationships tae delude oorsels that it isnae aw totally pointless.

You just want tae fuck up on drugs so that everyone'll think how deep and fucking complex you are. It's pathetic, and fucking boring.

Fuckin failures in a country of failures. Its nae good blamin it oan the English fir colonising us. Ah don't hate the English. They're just wankers. We are colonised by wankers. We can't even pick a decent, vibrant healthy society to be colonised by. No..we are ruled by effete arseholes. What does that make us? The lowest of the low, the scum of the earth. The most wretched servile, miserable, pathetic trash that was ever shat intae creation. Ah don't hate the English. They just git oan wis the shite thev got. Ah hate the Scots.

Iggy Pop looks right at me as he sings the line: 'America takes drugs in psychic defence'; only he changes 'America' to 'Scatlin', and defines us mair accurately in a single sentence than all the others have ever done.

It’s all okay, it’s all beautiful; but ah fear that this internal sea is gaunnae subside soon, leaving this poisonous shite washed up, stranded up in ma body.

Choose Trainspotting.

He emphasised basic truths: you are not dying yet, you have to live your life until you are. Underpinning them was the belief that the grim reality of impending death can be talked away by trying to invest in the present reality of life. I didn’t believe that at the time, but now I do. By definition, you have to live until you die. Better to make that life as complete and enjoyable an experience as possible, in case death is shite, which I suspect it will be.

It wis like auld times, but in a sense that only served tae remind us ay how much things hud changed.

They mean well, and they mean well tae me, but there's nae way under the sun that they can appreciate what ah feel, what ah need. Protect me from those who wish tae help us.

On the issue of drugs, we wir classical liberals, vehemently opposed tae state intervention in any form.

But ah cannae even endorse these sentiments as they are at best peripheral tae the moment.

Living like this is a full-time business.

Ah walk doon Hammersmith Broadway, London seeming strange and alien, after only a three-month absence, as familiar places do when you’ve been away. It’s as if everything is a copy of what you knew before, similar, yet somehow lacking in its usual qualities, a bit like the wey things are in a dream. They say you have to live in a place to know it, but you have to come fresh tae really see it.

They mean well, and they mean well tae me, but there's nae way under the sun that they can appreciate what ah feel, what ah need. Protect me from those who wish tae help us.

I pay more tax registered in Holland than I would in the USA, but better gieing to the Dutch to build dams than the Yanks to build bombs.

Ah realise now thit death is usually a process, rather than an event. People generally die by degrees, incrementally. They rot away slowly in homes and hoespitals, or places like this.

The pit of melancholy was a bottomless one, and he was descending fast, falling further away from the good times. Such times often seemed tantalisingly within reach; he could see them, going on all around him. His mind was like a cruel prison, giving his captive soul a sight of freedom, but no more.

Ah didnae really know much aboot women. Ah didnae really know much aboot anything.

He notes the depressing haste with which the successful, in the sexual sphere as in all others, segment themselves from the failures.

Choose us. Choose life. Choose mortgage payments; choose washing machines; choose cars; choose sitting oan a couch watching mind-numbing and spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fuckin junk food intae yir mooth. Choose rotting away, pishing and shiteing yersel in a home, a total fuckin embarrassment tae the selfish, fucked-up brats ye've produced. Choose life.

The best way ah knew tae strike a chord without compromising too much tae the sickening hypocrisy, perversely peddled as decency, which fills the room, is tae stick tae the clichés.

Still, failure, success, what is it? Whae gies a fuck. We aw live, then we die, in quite a short space ay time n аw. That's it; end ay fuckin story.

Sex generally makes them intae real relationships, or ends them. Ye go backwards or forwards after shagging, but maintaining the status quo is difficult.

Rents bir keresinde, polisin ve yargıçların görev duygusunu tetiklemek için esmer bi tenden daha iyisi yoktur, demişti; çok doğru.

-ye always want what ye cannae have and the things that ye dinnae really gie a toss aboot get handed tae ye oan a plate.

me doy cuenta de que por lo general la muerte es un proceso, más que un suceso. Generalmente la gente se muere poco a poco, acumulativamente. Se pudren lentamente en residencias u hospitales, o sitios como éste

It was, as the song said, ‘call to arms music,’ and seemed to have little to do with Scotland and New Year. It was fighting music. Stevie didn’t want to fight anyone. But it was also beautiful music.

Any cunt withoot the virus could git run ower the morn. That’s the wey ye huv tae look at it. Cannae jist cancel the gig. The show must go oan.

Quizá me haya acostumbrado tanto a las mentiras, que la verdad me suena indecentemente falsa. Pero bueno.

Money gives you the luxury of not caring about it. You can affect to find it crass and vulgar, but see how crass and vulgar it is when there’s none of it in your pocket.

I'm glad our slivers of existence intersected in a Venn diagram between the crushing slabs of oblivion on either side of them

¿Estás jodido?", pregunto. "No lo sé. Si te soy sincero, será el sexo lo que más echaré de menos. Eso y el tener a alguien, ¿sabes?" Tommy necesita a la gente mucho más que la mayoría.

Johnny wis a junky as well as a dealer. Ye hud tae go a wee bit further up the ladder before ye found a dealer whae didnae use. We called Johnny ‘Mother Superior’ because ay the length ay time he’d hud his habit.

Ah don't hate the English. They're just wankers. We are colonised by wankers. We can't even pick a decent, vibrant, healthy culture to be colonised by. No. We're ruled by effete arseholes. What does that make us?

It was Begbie who ensured he could never return. He had done what he wanted to do. He could now never go back to Leith, to Edinburgh, even to Scotland, ever again. There, he could not be anything other than he was. Now, free from them all, for good, he could be what he wanted to be. He'd stand or fall alone. This thought both terrified and excited him as he contemplated life in Amsterdam.

You can only learn through failure, and what ye learn is the importance ay preparation.

He really is a cunt ay the first order. Nae about that. The big problem is, he's a mate na aw. Whit kin ye dae?

This internal sea. The problem is that this beautiful ocean carries with it loads ay poisonous flotsam and jetsam … that poison is diluted by the sea, but once the ocean rolls out, it leaves the shite behind, inside ma body. It takes as well as gives, it washes away ma endorphins, ma pain resistance centres; they take a long time tae come back.

Renton looks at her and sees her pain and anger. It cuts him up. It confuses him. Kelly has a great sense of humour. What's wrong with her? The knee–jerk thought: Wrong time of the' month is forming in his head when he looks about and picks up the intonations of the laughter around the bar. It's not funny laughter. This is lynch mob laughter. How was ah tae know, he thinks. How the fuck was ah tae know?

— Square go then smart cunt!

Los colegas son una puta pérdida de tiempo. Siempre están dispuestos a arrastrarte hasta su nivel de mediocridad social, sexual e intelectual.

Ah sortay jist laugh whin some cats say that racism's an English thing and we're aw Jock Tamson's bairn up here . . . it's likesay pure shite man, gadges talkin through their erses.

Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed- interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisure wear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing sprit- crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life... But why would I want to do a thing like that?

I don’t go birdwatching. I am birdwatching. Birdwatching is a state of being, not an activity. It doesn’t depend on place, on equipment, on specific purpose, like, say, fishing. It is not a matter of organic trainspotting; it is about life and it is about living.

... ona aşktan söz ettim. o ise aşkın din gibi bir şey olduğunu, aslında var olmadığı halde sistemin bizi daha kolay kullanmak için uydurduğu bir şey olduğunu söyledi.

Algunos pobres cabrones simplemente están mucho más predispuestos hacia la adicción a ciertas drogas que otros.

ადვილია ფილოსოფოსობა, როცა სისხლის ნაცვლად ქაქი შენ არ დაგიდის ვენებში და სხვაზე რო ბაზრობ.

[...] but it's aw hate, hate, hate wi some punters, and whair does it git us likesay, man? Whair the fuck does it git us?

Football divisions were a stupid and irrelevant nonsense, acting against the interest of working-class unity, ensuring that the bourgeoisie's hegemony went unchallenged.

Women give more than men; young people more than their elders; people who appear to be of the most modest means seem more generous than the affluent looking.

It's mibbe nae mair vermin thin you or me, likesay... whae's tae say what's vermin...they posh wifire think people us ur vermin, likesay, does that make it right thit they should kill us, ah goes.

This thought though, is nowhere near sufficient tae stop us fae daein what ah huv tae dae.

Si por mi fuera, pillaria todos los libros que hay, haria una pila enorme con ellos y los quemaría todos. Los libros sólo sirven para que los listos farden acerca de toda la mierda que han leído. Todo lo que necesitas saber lo puedes sacar de la prensa y de la tele. Capullos pretenciosos. Ya les daré yo jodidos libros.

Si por mi fuera, pillaría todos los libros que hay, haría una pila enorme con ellos y los quemaría todos. Los libros sólo sirven para que los listos farden acerca de toda la mierda que han leído. Todo lo que necesitas saber lo puedes sacar de la prensa y de la tele. Capullos pretenciosos. Ya les daré yo jodidos libros.

Planet Ay The Apes hus insinuated hissel intae the company. The thought ay that cunt shaggin wee Maria Anderson is not aesthetically appealing. The thought ay that cunt shaggin anybody isnae aesthetically appealing. If he tries tae talk tae ma Ma, ah’ll gless the fucker’s primate pus.

They filed out into the cold night at closing time, heading for Begbie's place with a carry-out. They'd already spent twelve hours drinking and pontificating about Matty's life and his motivations. In truth, the more reflective of them realised, all their insights pooled and processed, did little to illuminate the cruel puzzle of it all. They were no wiser now than at the start.

Everytime ye go to jail, the probability ay ye ever becoming free fae that kind of life decreases. It's the same every time ye go back tae smack. Ye decrease yir chances of ay ever bein able tae dae withoot it.

Не можех да кажа на Лизи за купона в Бъроуленд. Направо никакъв шанс. Щом взех "пенсията", веднага купих билета. Останах без пукната пара. Този ден обаче тя имаше рожден ден. Трябваше да избирам: или билета, или подарък за нея. Никакъв шанс. Ставаше дума за Иги Поп. Мислех, че ще ме разбере. - Значи можеш да си купиш шибан билет за скапания Иги Поп, а не можеш да се прежалиш за подарък! Е това е Лизи с реторичните си въпроси - гадното оръжие на гаджетата и психарите.

¿Hasta qué punto puede alguien conocer de verdad a cualquier otra persona?

The disease which racked his body was a sweetheart compared to the more obscure one that possessed his sick mind.

They call um Sick Boy, no because he’s eywis sick wi junk withdrawal, but because he’s just one sick cunt.

Underpinning them was the belief that the grim reality of impending death can be talked away by trying to invest in the present reality of life.

Society invents a spurious convoluted logic tae absorb and change people whae's behaviour is outside its mainstream. Suppose that ah ken aw the pros and cons, know that ah'm gaunnae huv a short life, am ah sound mind, ectetera, ectetera, but still want tae use smack? They won't let ye dae it. They won't let ye dae it, because it's seen as a sign ay thir ain failure. The fact that ye jist simply choose tae reject whut they huv tae offer.

High cunts are a big fuckin drag when yir feeling like this, because thir too busy enjoying their high tae notice or gie a fuck about your suffering. Whereas the piss-held in the pub wants every cunt tae git as ootay it as he is, the real junky (as opposed tae the casual user who wants a partner-in-crime) doesnae gie a fuck aboot anybody else.

Whin yir oan junk, aw ye worry aboot is scorin. Oaf the gear, ye worry aboot loads ay things. Nae money, cannae git pished. Goat money, drinkin too much. Cannae git a burd, nae chance ay a ride. Git a burd, too much hassle, cannae breathe withoot her gittin oan yir case. Either that. or ye blow it, and feel aw guilty. Ye worry aboot bills, food, bailiffs, these Jambo Nazi scum beatin us, aw the things that ye couldnae gie a fuck aboot whin yuv goat a real junk habit. Yuv just goat one thing tae worry aboot. The simplicity ay it aw. Ken whit ah mean?

Thing is, as ye git aulder, this character-deficiency gig becomes mair sapping. Thir wis a time ah used tae say tae aw the teachers, bosses, dole punters, poll-tax guys, magistrates, when they telt me ah was deficient:'Hi, cool it, gadge, ah'm jist me, jist intae a different sort ay gig fae youse but, ken?' Now though, ah've goat tae concede thit mibee they cats had it sussed. Ye take a healthier slapping the aulder ye git. The blows hit hame mair. It's like yon Mike Tyson boy at the boxing, ken? Every time ye git it thegither tae make a comeback, thir's jist a wee bit mair missin. So ye fuck up again. Yip, ah'm jist no a gadge cut oot fir modern life n that's aw thir is tae it, man. Sometimes the gig goes smooth, then ah jist pure panic n it's back tae the auld weys. What kin ah dae?

Society invents a spurious convoluted logic tae absorb and change people whae's behaviour is outside its mainstream. Suppose that ah ken aw the pros and cons, know that ah'm gaunnae huv a short life, am ah sound mind, etcetera, etcetera, but still want tae use smack? They won't let ye dae it. They won't let ye dae it, because it's seen as a sign ay thir ain failure. The fact that ye jist simply choose tae reject whut they huv tae offer. Choose us. Choose life. Choose mortgage payments; choose washing machines; choose cars; choose sitting oan a couch watching mind-numbing and spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fuckin junk food intae yir mooth. Choose rotting away, pishing and shiteing yersel in a home, a total fuckin embarrassment tae the selfish, fucked-up brats ye've produced. Choose life.

Society invents a spurious convoluted logic tea absorb and change people whae's behaviour is outside its mainstream. Suppose that ah ken all the pros and cons, know that ah'm gaunnae huv a short life, am ay sound mind etcetera etcetera, but still want tae use smack? They won't let ye dae it. They won't let ye dae it, because it's seen as a sign ay thir ain failure. The fact that ye jist simply choose tae reject whit they huv tae offer. Choose us. Choose life. Choose mortgage payments; choose washing machines; choose cars; choose sitting oan a couch watching mind-numbing and spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food intae yir mooth. Choose rotting away, pishing and shiteing yourself in a home, a total fucking embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats ye've produced. Choose life.

Leave it man. Squirrel’s botherin nae cunt likesay! Ah hate it the wey Mark’s intae hurtin animals… it’s wrong man. Ye cannae love yirsel if ye want tae hurt things like that… ah mean… what hope is thir? The squirrel’s likes fuckin lovely. He’s daein his ain thing. He’s free. That’s mibble what Rents cannae stand. The squirrel’s free man.

Two choices; one: tough it oot, back in the room, two: phone that cunt Forrester and go tae Muirhoose, get fucked aboot and ripped oaf wi some crap gear. Nae contest. In twenty minutes it wis: — Muirhoose pal? tae the driver oan the 32 bus and quiveringly stickin ma forty-five pence intae the the box. Any port in a storm, and it’s raging in here behind ma face.

Eroinden söz ederken kendimi şaşırtıcı ölçüde iyi, sakin ve berrak hissediyordum. "Tam olarak bilmiyorum, Tom, bilmiyorum. Bi şekilde her şeyi daha gerçekçi kılıyor. Hayat sıkıcı ve anlamsız. Büyük umutlarla başlıyoruz, sonra çuvallıyoruz. Hepimiz bi gün büyük sorulara cevap bulmadan öleceğimizi keşfederiz. Hayatımızın gerçeğini farklı biçimlerde yorumlayacak dolambaçlı düşünceler geliştiririz, bedenimizle büyük şeylere, gerçek şeylere dair kayda değer bi bilgiye uzanmaksızın. Aslında, kısa ve hayal kırıklıklarıyla dolu bi hayat yaşar, sonra da ölürüz. Kendimizi her şeyin tamamen anlamdan yoksun olmadığına inandırmak için hayatlarımızı bokla doldururuz; kariyerle, ilişkiyle falan. Eroin dürüst bir uyuşturucudur, çünkü bu yanılsamaları sıyırıp atar. Eroin çaktığında iyiysen, kendini ölümsüz hissedersin. Kötüysen zaten var olan sıkıntıyı artırır. Tek dürüst uyuşturucudur. Bilincini değiştirmez. Bi anda çarpar ve gevşetir. Ondan sonra dünyanın sefaletini olduğu gibi görür, kendini buna karşı duyarsızlaştıramazsın.

We took morphine, diamorphine, cyclozine, codeine, temazepam, nitrezepam, phenobarbitone, sodium amytal dextropropoxyphene, methadone, nalbuphine, pethidine, pentazocine, buprenorphine, dextromoramide chlormethiazole. The streets are awash with drugs that you can have for unhappiness and pain, and we took them all. Fuck it, we would have injected Vitamin C if only they'd made it illegal.

--Thing is though, Spud, whin yir intae skag, that's it. That's aw yuv goat tae worry aboot. Ken Billy, ma brar, likes? He's jist signed up tae go back intae the fuckin army. He's gaun tae fucking Belfast, the stupid cunt. Ah always knew that the fucker wis tapped. Fuckin imperialist lackey. Ken whit the daft cunt turned roond n sais tae us? He goes: Ah cannae fuckin stick civvy street. Bein in the army, it's like being a junky. The only difference is thit ye dinnae git shot at sae often bein a junky. Besides, it's usually you that does the shootin. --That, eh, likesay, seems a bit eh, fucked up like man. Ken? --Naw but, listen the now. You jist think aboot it. In the army they dae everything fir they daft cunts. Feed thum, gie the cunts cheap bevvy in scabby camp clubs tae keep thum fae gaun intae toon n lowerin the fuckin tone, upsetting the locals n that. Whin they git intae civvy street, thuv goat tae dae it aw fir thumsells. --Yeah, but likesay, it's different though, cause . . . Spud tries to cut in, but Renton is in full flight. A bottle in the face is the only thing that could shut him up at this point; even then only for a few seconds. --Uh, uh . . . wait a minute, mate. Hear us oot. Listen tae whit ah've goat tae say here . . . what the fuck wis ah sayin . . . aye! Right. Whin yir oan junk, aw ye worry aboot is scorin. Oaf the gear, ye worry aboot loads ay things. Nae money, cannae git pished. Goat money, drinkin too much. Cannae git a burd, nae chance ay a ride. Git a burd, too much hassle, cannae breathe withoot her gittin oan yir case. Either that, or ye blow it, and feel aw guilty. Ye worry aboot bills, food, bailiffs, these Jambo Nazi scum beatin us, aw the things that ye couldnae gie a fuck aboot whin yuv goat a real junk habit. Yuv just goat one thing tae worry aboot. The simplicity ay it aw. Ken whit ah mean?

-ახლა, უკნიდან უნდა დამარჭო, მაგრამ მანმადე მაგ პენისს კარგად გაგიპოხავ ვაზელინით, რო შედებისას არ მეტკინოს. კუნთები შემეკუმშება, იმიტო რო ამას პირველად ვაკეთებ, მარა ვეცდები, მოვდუნდე, - თქვა და ღრმა ნაფაზი დაარტყა. ლორა დიდად თავშენახული ქალი არ ბრძანდებოდა, ჰოდა, ვაზელინი არ აღმოაჩნდა. ამიტომ რაღაც სხვა ნივთიერება იპოვა, რომელიც, მისი აზრით, საპოხად გამოდგებოდა. ძალიან ბლანტი და წებოვანი რამე იყო. მოკლედ, ბლომად წაუსვა საწყალ ქლიავას ასოზე. რეზინის წებო აღმოჩნდა. იმ საცოდავს კანში ჩააკვდა და აუტანელი ტკივილისაგან საშინლად ააღრიალა. ბნედიანივით იკრუნჩხებოდა საწოლზე და გრძნობდა, რომ ცოტაც და ასოს თავი ნაღდად მოსძვრებოდა.

- რას აკეთებთ, ბავშებო? აქ, ძველ სადგურზე, მატარებლების სათვალთვალოდ მოხვედით, თუ ყოფილ საწყობში “საჩხერ-კეთელაოდ?” _ ამბობს და გულიანად ხითხითებს საკუთარ კალამბურზე. _ გამოიცანი, _ ეუბნება ბეგბი და დაბალ ხმაზე უმატებს, _ ბებერი კუანა. _ კაი, აბა, ითამაშეთ და გაერთეთ, მე ხელს არ შეგიშლით! _ ამბობს ბერიკაცი და ბანცალით გვეცლება. მისი ხრინწიანი სიცილის ექო მთელ მიტოვებულ საწყობში ისმის. ვამჩნევ, რო ბეგბი მაგრა დამძიმდა. პირიც კი მიიბრუნა და აღარ მიყურებს. მაშინღა მივხვდი, რო ის ლოთი მამამისი იყო.

Başarı ve başarısızlık arzunun tatmin edilmesi ya da içinde kalması anlamına gelir. Arzu ya kişisel dürtülerimize bağlı olarak baskın bir biçimde içseldir, ya da esasen reklamlarla veya medyanın ve popüler kültürün sunduğu rol modelleriyle uyarılmış bir biçimde, dışsal. Tom benim başarı ve başarısızlık kavramlarımın toplumsal düzeyden çok kişisel düzeyde geçerli olduğu görüşünde. Toplumsal ödülü kabul etmediğim için başarı (ve başarısızlık) sadece anlık olabilirdi benim için, çünkü bu deneyim toplumsal destek gören bir servet, güç ve statü düşmanlığıyla, ya da başarısızlık söz konusu olduğunda utanç ve ayıplamayla sürdürülemezdi. Bu yüzden, Tom'a göre, bana sınavlarda başarılı olduğumu ya da iyi bir işim olduğunu ya da güzel bir piliçle çıktığımı söylemenin bir yararı yoktu; bu tür övgüler bir şey ifade etmiyordu benim için. Tabii ki, gerçekleştiklerinde bu şeylerin keyfini çıkarıyordum, fakat değerleri kalıcı olamazdı, çünkü onları değerlendiren toplumun kabulü söz konusu değildi bende.

ასეა თუ ისე, იმდენად დაღლილი ვარ, რო ეგრევე ვხუჭავ თვალებს და ძილი თავს მართმევს. ოდნავ ვიძაბები, როცა ვგრძნობ, რო ბერიკაცი გვერდით მომიწვა, მარა მალევე ვდუნდები, რადგანაც გასუსული წევს და ახლოს მოკარებას არც კი ცდილობს. თანაც ორივე ჩაცმულები ვწევართ. ვგრძნობ, რო ავადმყოფურ, უგონო ძილში ვიძირები. ვიღვიძებ. აზრზე არა ვარ, რამდენ საათს მეძინა. პირი გამშრალი მაქვს, სახეზე კი უცნაური სისველის შეგრძნება მაწუხებს. ლოყაზე ხელს ვისვამ და ვხედავ, რო ხელზე რაღაც მოთეთრო, შედედებული და წებოვანი ნივთიერება ამყვა. ვტრიალდები და რას ვხედავ!.. ბერიკაცი გვერდზე მიწევს, მთლად დედიშობილაა და პატარა, მსუქანი ასოდან სპერმა მოუჟონავს. - უუუ, შე გათახსირებულო ბებერო!.. ზედ მომათავე, სანამ მეძინა, შე ბოზო, შენა?!… მოგკლავ, შე ახვარო ნაბიჭვარო! - ასე მგონია, ბინძური ცხვირსახოცი ვარ-მეთქი, რომელიც იხმარეს და გადააგდეს. ჭკუიდან გადასული ერთ მაგარს ვულაწუნებ სიფათში და საწოლიდან ვაგდებ. საზიზღარ, ტრაკგასიებულ ჯუჯას ჰგავს, დიდი ღიპითა და მრგვალი გოგრით. მოკრუნჩხული გდია იატაკზე და მე წიხლებს იქამდე ვურტყამ, სანამ არ ვხვდები, რო ტირის.

- Makes nae fucking difference. Rents n Stevie came up fae London for this. If Rents n Stevie kin come up fae fucking London, Sick Boy kin come up fae fuckcing France. Spud's senses were dangerously dulled with the alcohol. Stupidly, he kept the argument going. - Yeah, but, eh... France is further away... wir talking aboot the south ay France here, likesay. Ken? Begbie looked incredulously at Spud. Obviously the message had not got across. He spoke lower, higher and with a snarl twisting his cruel mouth into a strange shape below his blazing eyes. - IF RENTS N STEVIE KIN COME UP FI FUCKING LONDON, SICK BOY KIN COME UP FAE FUCKING FRANCE! - Yeah... right enough. Should've made the effort. Mate's funeral likesay, ken. Spud thought that the Conservative Party in Scotland could do with a few Begbies. It's not what the message is, the problem is just communication. Begbie is good at getting the message across.

To those of us gathered here today, Matthew Connell filled a number of different roles in our lives. Matthew was a son, a brother, a father and a friend. Matthew's last days in his young life were bleak, suffering ones. Yet, we must remember the real Matthew, the loving young man who had a great lust for life. A keen musician, Matthew loved to entertain friends with his guitar playing... Renton could not make eye contact with Spud, standing next to him in the pew, as nervous laughter gripped him. Matty was the shitest guitarest he'd known, and could only play the Doors' 'Roadhouse Blues' and a few Clash and Status Quo numbers with any sort of proficiency. He tried hard to do the riff from 'Clash City Rockers', but could never quite master it. Nonetheless, Matty loved that Fender Strat. It was the last thing he sold, holding onto it after the amplifier had been flogged off in order to fill his veins with shite. Perr Matty, Renton thought. How well did any of us really know him? How well can anybody really know anybody else?

Why is it that because ye use hard drugs every cunt feels that they have a right tae dissect and analyse ye? Once ye accept that they huv that right, ye’ll join them in the search fir this holy grail, this thing that makes ye tick. Ye’ll then defer tae them, allowin yersel tae be conned intae believin any biscuit-ersed theory ay behaviour they choose tae attach tae ye. Then yir theirs, no yir ain; the dependency shifts from the drug to them. Society invents a spurious convoluted logic tae absorb and change people whae’s behaviour is outside its mainstream. Suppose that ah ken aw the pros and cons, know that ah’m gaunnae huv a short life, am ay sound mind etcetera, etcetera, but still want tae use smack? They won’t let ye dae it. They won’t let ye dae it, because it’s seen as a sign ay thir ain failure. The fact that ye jist simply choose tae reject whit they huv tae offer. Choose us. Choose life. Choose mortgage payments; choose washing machines; choose cars; choose sitting oan a couch watching mind-numbing and spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fuckin junk food intae yir mooth. Choose rotting away, pishing and shiteing yersel in a home, a total fuckin embarrassment tae the selfish, fucked-up brats ye’ve produced. Choose life. Well, ah choose no tae choose life. If the cunts cannae handle that, it’s thair fuckin problem. As Harry Lauder sais, ah jist intend tae keep right on to the end of the road …

Ah don’t really know, Tam, ah jist dinnae. It kinday makes things seem mair real tae us. Life’s boring and futile. We start aof wi high hopes, then we bottle it. We realise that we’re aw gaunnae die, withoot really findin oot the big answers. We develop aw they long-winded ideas which just interpret the reality ay oor lives in different weys, withoot really extending oor body ay worthwhile knowledge, about the big things, the real things. Basically, we live a short, disappointing life; and then we die. We fill up oor lives wi shite, things like careers and relationships tae delude oorsels that it isnae totally pointless. Smack’s an honest drug, because it strips away these delusions. Wi smack, whin ye feel good, ye feel immortal. Whin ye feel bad, it intensifies the shite that’s already thair. It’s the only really honest drug. It doesnae alter yer consciousness. It just gies ye a hit and a sense ay well-being. Eftir that, ye see the misery ay the world as it is, and ye cannae anaesthetise yirsel against it.

Me contó un montón de cosas que yo no quería oír, cosas que mi madre y mi padre nunca supieron, y que odiarían saber. Lo cabrón que era Billy con ella. Cómo en ocasiones la golpeaba, la humillaba, y la trataba en general como un trozo de mierda excepcionalmente corrompida. "¿Por qué te quedaste con él?" "Era mi chico. Siempre piensas que será diferente, que puedes hacerle cambiar, que tú puedes suponer la diferencia." Eso lo entendía, Pero es un error. Los únicos hijoputas que supusieron alguna vez una diferencia para Billy fueron los Provisionales, y ellos también eran unos cabrones. No tengo ninguna ilusión sobre ellos como luchadores de la libertad. Los muy hijoputas convirtieron a mi hermano en un montón de comida para gatos. Pero ellos sólo tiraron de la palanca. Su muerte fue concebida por esos cabrones anaranjaos que venían por aquí todos los meses de julio con sus fajines y sus flautas, llenando la estúpida cabeza de Billy con insensateces acerca de la corona y la nación y toda esa mierda. Ellos irán a casa felices por el día de hoy. Pueden contarles a todos sus colegas cómo murió asesinado por el IRA uno de la familia mientras defendía el Ulster. Eso alimentará su ira sin objeto, hará que les inviten a copas en los pubs, y consolidará su credibilidad memo-bastarda entre otros tontolabas sectarios.

_ სამეფო არმიაში მსახურობდი, შვილო? ჩემი ბრაიანიც მანდ იყო, სამეფო არმიაში, ბრაიან ლედლოუ. _ ემმმ, ისა… არა, ქალბატონო, ფლოტში ვიყავი, _ მხრებს იჩეჩავს ჯონი. _ ბრაიენი აღარ დამიბრუნდა, ღმერთმა აცხონოს მისი სული. ოცდაერთი წლის იყო, ჩემი საწყალი ბიჭი. ისეთი კარგი ყმაწვილი იყო, _ ქალს თვალები ცრემლებით ევსება. ხმა მთლად ჩაუწყდა და საწყალობელი გაუხდა საკუთარი უსუსური დარდის გამო. _ იცი, შვილო, ეგ საზიზღარი ტეტჩერი სიცოცხლის ბოლომდე მეძულება. ერთი დღეც არ გავა, ეგ რო არ დავწყევლო. მერე საფულეს იღებს, ოცგირვანქიან კუპიურას პოულობს და ჯონის ხელში უტენის: _ აიღე, შვილო, ამის მეტი არაფერი მაქვს, მაგრამ მინდა, რო შენ გქონდეს. _ მერე ქვითინი უვარდება და მიდის, ფეხზე ძლივს დგას; ისეთი გრძნობაა, თითქოს დანით დაჭრეს. _ ღმერთმა დაგლოცოთ, ქალბატონო! _ მიჰკივის ჯონი მიმავალს. _ ღმერთმა დალოცოს შოტლანდიელი ჯარისკაცები! _ მერე ტაშსაც შემოჰკრავს, სიხარულით აღარაა, რომ მალე ციკლოზინს იყიდის და იმ მეტადონთან ერთად გადაუშვებს, რომელიც უკვე აქვს. ფსიქომეტადონური კოკტეილი: მისი ნეტარებისაკენ მიმავალი ბილეთი, მისი პატარა სამოთხისაკენ, რომელსაც გაუცნობიერებლები დასცინიან და ვერ აფასებენ; ეგენი ვერასოდეს ჩასწვდებიან ამ ნეტარების არსს... ელბოს მთელი ბღუჯა ციკლოზინი აქვს, კიბოს გამო გამოუწერეს. დღეს საღამოს აუცილებლად მოინახულებს იმ თავის ავადმყოფ მეგობარს. ელბოს მაგისი კალიკები სჭირდება, ჯონის კიდე _ მისი ფსიქოტროპულები. ინტერესთა იდეალური თანხვედრაა. დიახაც! ღმერთმა წყალობა არ მოუშალოს შოტლანდიელ ჯარისკაცებს და ბრიტანულ ჯანდაცვას!