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To this day, he is a stick of TNT lit from both ends, could describe to you in detail the way the sky bends in the moment before it's about to fall,
今天，他就像是一根TNT炸藥桶，兩端都被點燃了，他會告訴你，當天空開始墜落時天空將會如何的扭曲彎折，
and despite an army of friends who all call him an inspiration,
盡管很多的朋友都稱贊他的才華，
he remains a conversation piece between people who can't understand sometimes being drug-free has less to do with addiction and more to do with sanity.
他依然免不了成為別人的談資，這些人無法理解，一個人是否吸毒，跟藥物上癮關系不大，更多的取決于他的理智。
We weren't the only kids who grew up this way.
像我們這樣成長起來的孩子還有很多。
To this day, kids are still being called names.
時至今日，有的孩子還在被人取侮辱的外號。
The classics were "Hey, stupid," "Hey, spaz." Seems like every school has an arsenal of names getting updated every year.
比如，“笨蛋”，“怪胎”。似乎每個學校里面都有一個彈藥庫存儲這些外號，一年一年的更新換代。
And if a kid breaks in a school and no one around chooses to hear, do they make a sound?
如果學校里一個孩子受了傷卻沒人愿意理他，他們會讓人知道么？
Are they just background noise from a soundtrack stuck on repeat, when people say things like, "Kids can be cruel."
還是說他們就像錄音磁帶的噪音一樣反復不停，而人們只是說著“孩子也會很壞”這樣的話？
Every school was a big top circus tent, and the pecking order went from acrobats to lion tamers, from clowns to carnies, all of these miles ahead of who we were.
每個學校都像是一個大馬戲團，人與人之間等級分明，從雜耍員到馴獸師，從小丑到龍套，他們的等級都比我們高好幾層樓。
We were freaks -- lobster-claw boys and bearded ladies, oddities juggling depression and loneliness, playing solitaire, spin the bottle, trying to kiss the wounded parts of ourselves and heal,
我們是怪胎——女孩長著胡子，男孩長著龍蝦的爪子被鄙棄、被戲弄，感到沮喪、感到孤獨，一個人玩紙牌、一個人玩轉瓶子（轉瓶選擇接吻對象的游戲），親吻自己的傷口，嘗試治愈自己，
but at night, while the others slept, we kept walking the tightrope. It was practice, and yes, some of us fell.
但每每夜深人靜，我們會走上鋼絲，默默練習。是的，也有不成功的例子。
