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I was thinking about all the ways I'd already screwed my life up.
我在考慮以前把我的生活毀了的各種方式。
Who the hell was I to go to New York City and pretend to be a writer?
那個要去紐約裝作是一位作家的我到底是誰？
Who was I?
我是誰？
I'll tell you.
我來告訴各位。
I was a misfit.
我是一位不適者。
Like legions of other children,
就像千千萬萬其他的孩子，
I came from an abusive household that I narrowly escaped with my life.
我來自一個受虐待的家庭，只不過我僥幸逃脫了。
I already had two epically failed marriages underneath my belt.
在我的生命中已經經歷了兩次婚姻的大失敗。
I'd flunked out of college not once but twice
我考大學失敗了兩次，
and maybe even a third time that I'm not going to tell you about.
也許會有第三次，我不會告訴你們的。
And I'd done an episode of rehab for drug use.
我還有一段戒毒的美妙經歷。
And I'd had two lovely staycations in jail.
我還在監獄里度過兩次假。
So I'm on the right stage.
所以我應該站在這里。
But the real reason, I think, I was a misfit,
但是我想，真正的原因是我是一個不適者。
is that my daughter died the day she was born,
我的女兒在出生的那天就去世了，
and I hadn't figured out how to live with that story yet.
我當時根本無法接受這件事。
After my daughter died I also spent a long time homeless,
女兒去世后我無家可歸了一段時間，
living under an overpass in a kind of profound state of zombie grief and loss
住在一個天橋下。那種無盡的悲痛和困惑
that some of us encounter along the way.
是很多人一生中都會遇到的。
Maybe all of us, if you live long enough.
如果活得夠久，也許所有人都會遇到。
You know, homeless people are some of our most heroic misfits,
無家可歸的人是我們中最可怕的不適者，
because they start out as us.
因為從那時起他們就成為了我這樣的人。
