《搏击俱乐部》翻译第二章（连载，自己翻译的，水平不高，欢迎英语达人拍砖）
Chapter 2
BOB'S BIG ARMS were closed around to hold me inside, and I was
squeezed in the dark between Bob's new sweating tits that hang enormous,
the way we think of God's as big. Going around the church basement full
of men, each night we met: this is Art, this is Paul, this is Bob; Bob's big
shoulders made me think of the horizon. Bob's thick blond hair was what
you get when hair cream calls itself sculpting mousse, so thick and blond
and the part is so straight.
鲍勃的大胳膊把我紧紧搂住，我被挤进鲍勃满是汗湿的两个巨大新乳房之间的黑暗之中，让我想到上帝的乳房会不会也如此的大。教堂的地下室里面全是人，我们每天晚上都见面，这是阿特，这是保罗，这是鲍勃。鲍勃宽大的肩膀让我想起了地平线。鲍勃有一头厚厚的金发，而且梳得很整齐。
His arms wrapped around me, Bob's hand palms my head against the new
tits sprouted on his barrel chest.
他的胳膊紧紧地抱着我。我的头正对着他水桶一样的胸部上的正在发育的乳房，他用手掌轻拍我的脑袋。
"It will be alright," Bob says. "You cry now."
我现在好多了。鲍勃说。该你哭了。
From my knees to my forehead, I feel chemical reactions within Bob
burning food and oxygen.
配合着鲍勃燃烧掉的食物和氧气，我从头到脚都感到了一种化学反应。
"Maybe they got it all early enough," Bob says. "Maybe it's just
seminoma. With seminoma, you have almost a hundred percent survival
rate."
他们可能早就知道了，鲍勃说，可能这就是精原细胞癌，要是得了精原细胞癌，还是百分之百能活下来的。
Bob's shoulders inhale themselves up in a long draw, then drop, drop, drop
in jerking sobs. Draw themselves up. Drop, drop, drop.
鲍勃的肩膀深深地向里靠拢，然后开始随着他的抽泣垂了下去，垂了下去，垂了下去，垂了下去。他又把肩膀向上提，然后又垂了下去，垂了下去，垂了下去，垂了下去。
I've been coming here every week for two years, and every week Bob
wraps his arms around me, and I cry.
两年来，我每个星期来着两次，每个星期，鲍勃都抱着我，而我哭。
"You cry," Bob says and inhales and sob, sob, sobs. "Go on now and cry."
“你哭吧，”鲍勃边说边抽泣，抽泣，抽泣，“继续哭吧。”
The big wet face settles down on top of my head, and I am lost inside.
鲍勃那趟着热泪的大脸上平静了下来，垂到我的脑袋上，而我则在鲍勃的怀里迷失。
This is when I'd cry. Crying is right at hand in the smothering dark, closed
inside someone else, when you see how everything you can ever
accomplish will end up as trash.
这就是我哭的时候。当你发现你做过的所有事情最后都变成了一堆垃圾的时候，在别人那黑乎乎的令人窒息的怀里哭是一件很容易的事。
Anything you're ever proud of will be thrown away.
所有你引以为豪的东西都会滚蛋。
And I'm lost inside.
而我则会迷失。
This is as close as I've been to sleeping in almost a week.
这会使我感到我差不多睡了一个星期。
This is how I met Marla Singer.
这是我为什么遇到了玛拉辛格。
Bob cries because six months ago, his testicles were removed. Then
hormone support therapy. Bob has tits because his testosterone ration is
too high. Raise the testosterone level too much, your body ups the
estrogen to seek a balance.
鲍勃哭，因为六个月以前，他的睾丸被摘除了。然后他接受了荷尔蒙疗法，提高了他身上的睾丸激素，而身体为了保持平衡必须分泌大量的雌性激素，然后鲍勃就长出了奶子。
This is when I'd cry because right now, your life comes down to nothing,
and not even nothing, oblivion.
这是为什么这时候我要哭，因为你的生活已经坍塌成虚无，甚至虚无都算不上，只是你被完全地遗忘。
Too much estrogen, and you get bitch tits.
太多的雌激素，让你有娘们的奶子。
It's easy to cry when you realize that everyone you love will reject you or
die. On a long enough time line, the survival rate for everyone will drop to
zero.
当你意识到所有你爱的人都会拒绝你或者死去，哭就变得十分自然。在一条足够足够长的时间上，所有人的存活率都会变成零。
Bob loves me because he thinks my testicles were removed, too.
鲍勃喜欢我是因为他以为我的睾丸也被摘除了。
Around us in the Trinity Episcopal basement with the thrift store plaid
sofas are maybe twenty men and only one woman, all of them clung
together in pairs, most of them crying. Some pairs lean forward, heads
pressed ear-to-ear, the way wrestlers stand, locked. The man with the only
woman plants his elbows on her shoulders; one elbow on either side of her
head, her head between his hands, and his face crying against her neck.
The woman's face twists off to one side and her hand brings up a cigarette.
I peek out from under the armpit of Big Bob.
这个三位一体教堂地下室，很多从廉价商店买来的呢子格沙发围着我们摆着，我们有大概20个男人，可只有一个女人，大部分一对一对地抱着，大部分在哭。有的一对往前倾，两个脑袋交叉，耳朵贴着耳朵，就像两个僵持不下的摔跤手。一个男人把一个胳膊肘放在唯一的女人的肩膀上，另一个胳膊肘放在女人的脑袋上，女人的脑袋在他的两手之间，而他把脸冲着女人的脖子放声大哭。这个女人两次把头扭向另一边，她的手里拿着一根烟。
"All my life," Bob cries. "Why I do anything, I don't know."
“我这一辈子”鲍勃哭着说，“我他妈的也不知道自己在干什么”
The only woman here at Remaining Men Together, the testicular cancer
support group, this woman smokes her cigarette under the burden of a
stranger, and her eyes come together with mine.
这群男人中唯一的女人，睾丸癌小组唯一的女人，在众目睽睽之下吸烟，和我四目相交。
Faker.
Faker.
Faker.
冒牌货。
冒牌货。
冒牌货。
Short matte black hair, big eyes the way they are in Japanese animation,
skim milk thin, buttermilk sallow in her dress with a wallpaper pattern of
dark roses, this woman was also in my tuberculosis support group Friday
night. She was in my melanoma round table Wednesday night. Monday
night she was in my Firm Believers leukemia rap group. The part down
the center of her hair is a crooked lightning bolt of white scalp.
粗糙的黑色短发，日本动漫里才有的大眼睛，像是脱脂牛奶那么瘦，乳酪那种黄色的裙子上印着壁纸那种风格的黑色玫瑰，星期五晚上这个女人出现在我的肺结核互助小组，星期三晚上她出现在我的黑素瘤圆桌会，星期一晚上她出现在我的“坚定信仰者”白血病研究小组。她头发中心部位的下方露出一块弯曲的闪电状白色头皮。
When you look for these support groups, they all have vague upbeat
names. My Thursday evening group for blood parasites, it's called Free
and Clear.
当你去寻找这些小组的时候，你会发现他们都有一个模糊而又积极向上的名字。比如我星期三的血液寄生虫小组就叫“自由和清澈”。
The group I go to for brain parasites is called Above and Beyond.
而我去的脑部寄生虫小组则叫“向上超越”
And Sunday afternoon at Remaining Men Together in the basement of
Trinity Episcopal, this woman is here, again.
星期三下午在三位一体教堂地下室，“还是男人”小组，这个女人又来了。
Worse than that, I can't cry with her watching.
比这个更糟的是，在她的注视下，我再也哭不出来了。
This should be my favorite part, being held and crying with Big Bob
without hope. We all work so hard all the time. This is the only place I
ever really relax and give up.
我本该是我最喜欢的部分——抱着大奶子鲍勃绝望地哭。所有的时间我都在辛苦地工作。只有这个地方可以让我真正地感到放松可以抛弃一切。
This is my vacation.
这是我的假期。
I went to my first support group two years ago, after I'd gone to my doctor
about my insomnia, again.
两年以前，在我又去治疗失眠症无效后，我第一次去了康复互助小组。
Three weeks and I hadn't slept. Three weeks without sleep, and everything
becomes an out-of-body experience. My doctor said, "Insomnia is just the
symptom of something larger. Find out what's actually wrong. Listen to
your body."
我已经整整三个星期睡不着觉了。三个星期没睡觉，一切都游离于身体之外了。我的医生说，“失眠只是其他疾病的征兆。要找出你身体那倒哪出了毛病， 得跟着你身体的感觉走。
I just wanted to sleep. I wanted little blue Amytal Sodium capsules,
200milligram-sized. I wanted red-and-blue Tuinal bullet capsules, lipstick-
red Seconals.
我只是想睡觉。我只是想要一点蓝的Amytal催眠药。200毫克就够。我需要红的蓝的Tuinal安眠药胶囊子弹，红的速可眠唇膏。
My doctor told me to chew valerian root and get more exercise.
我的医生告诉我需要嚼一些缬草根和一些锻炼。
Eventually I'd fall asleep.
最后我还是睡着了。
The bruised, old fruit way my face had collapsed, you would've thought I
was dead.
我受伤了，看到我烂水果一样的脸，你一定会觉得我死了。
My doctor said, if I wanted to see real pain, I should swing by First
Eucharist on a Tuesday night. See the brain parasites. See the degenerative
bone diseases. The organic brain dysfunctions. See the cancer patients
getting by.
我的医生说，如果我想知道什么才叫痛苦，我就应该星期二晚上吃完圣餐以后，去看看那些脑部寄生虫患者，去看看骨质疏松病患者，去看看器质性脑官能障碍患者，再去看看癌症患者。
So I went.
我就去了。
The first group I went to, there were introductions: this is Alice, this is
Brenda, this is Dover. Everyone smiles with that invisible gun to their
head.
我去的第一个小组，那会给你较少一下，这是爱丽丝，这是布伦达。这是丹佛。所有的人都在微笑，但看不见的枪正在指着他们的脑袋。
I never give my real name at support groups.
在康复互助小组我从来不用真名。
The little skeleton of a woman named Chloe with the seat of her pants
hanging down sad and empty, Chloe tells me the worst thing about her
brain parasites was no one would have sex with her. Here she was, so
close to death that her life insurance policy had paid off with seventy-five
thousand bucks, and all Chloe wanted was to get laid for the last time. Not
intimacy, sex.
一个叫克洛伊的骨瘦如柴的女人，她坐在那，裤子里面空荡荡的。克洛伊告我她得了脑部寄生虫后最糟的事情就是没人想和她做爱了。她已经支付了七万五千美元的人寿保险，她真的快死了。而克洛伊想要做最后一次爱，不要爱抚，只要做爱。
What does a guy say? What can you say, I mean.
听到这个，一个爷们能说啥？我是说，我能说啥？
All this dying had started with Chloe being a little tired, and now Chloe
was too bored to go in for treatment. Pornographic movies, she had
pornographic movies at home in her apartment.
克洛伊的死亡始于她有一天感到有点累。而现在克洛伊已经对治疗提不起兴趣了。色情电影，在她的公寓里有很多毛片。
During the French Revolution, Chloe told me, the women in prison, the
duchesses, baronesses, marquises, whatever, they would screw any man
who'd climb on top. Chloe breathed against my neck. Climb on top. Pony
up, did I know. Screwing passed the time.
在法国大革命的时候，克洛伊告诉我，女人被关进监狱，公爵夫人，男爵夫人，侯爵夫人，她们可以和所有的男人爬到她们身上的男人做爱。克洛伊对着我的脖子呼吸，爬上来吧，小种马，知道吗？用操逼渡过时间。
La petite mort, the French called it.
法语里叫La petite mort。
Chloe had pornographic movies, if I was interested. Amyl nitrate.
Lubricants.
克洛伊有毛片，如果我有兴趣，还可以有毛片和润滑剂。
Normal times, I'd be sporting an erection. Our Chloe, however, is a
skeleton dipped in yellow wax.
正常的情况下，我会高高兴兴地勃起。可是我们的克洛伊，也就是黄蜡下面一个骷髅。
Chloe looking the way she is, I am nothing. Not even nothing. Still,
Chloe's shoulder pokes mine when we sit around a circle on the shag
carpet. We close our eyes. This was Chloe's turn to lead us in guided
meditation, and she talked us into the garden of serenity. Chloe talked us
up the hill to the palace of seven doors. Inside the palace were the seven
doors, the green door, the yellow door, the orange door, and Chloe talked
us through opening each door, the blue door, the red door, the white door,
and finding what was there.
克洛伊还知道她想干什么，知道她是什么，我却什么也不是，甚至连虚无也不是。我们在地毯上坐成一圈，克洛伊的肩膀顶着我的肩膀。我们闭上眼睛。这次轮到克洛伊带着我们进入冥想，她带领我们进入了秘密花园。他带领我们爬上山之后看见了一个宫殿，宫殿有七个门，绿色的门，黄色的门，橙色的门。然后克洛伊带领我们打开每扇门，蓝色的门，红色的们，白色的门，然后带我们去找那里面的东西。
Eyes closed, we imagined our pain as a ball of white healing light floating
around our feet and rising to our knees, our waist, our chest. Our chakras
opening. The heart chakra. The head chakra. Chloe talked us into caves
where we met our power animal. Mine was a penguin.
闭上眼睛。我们想象一个白色的治疗光球正从我们的脚部升到我们的膝盖，然后升到我们的腰部，升到我们的胸部。我们的脉门打开了。心之脉门。脑之脉门。克洛伊把我们带到一个山洞，我们会见到自己的守护兽。我的是一只企鹅。
Ice covered the floor of the cave, and the penguin said, slide. Without any
effort, we slid through tunnels and galleries.
冰雪覆盖的山洞，企鹅说，滑！毫不费力地，我就滑过了隧道。
Then it was time to hug.
然后我们相互拥抱。
Open your eyes.
睁开眼睛。
This was therapeutic physical contact, Chloe said. We should all choose a
partner. Chloe threw herself around my head and cried. She had strapless
underwear at home, and cried. Chloe had oils and handcuffs, and cried as I
watched the second hand on my watch go around eleven times.
这是身体接触疗法，克洛伊说。我们都得选择一个伙伴。克洛伊趴在我的头上哭，她家有无带性感内衣，她哭，她有性爱用油和手铐，她哭的时候我看了看我第二只手上的手表，时间已经指向了11点左右。
So I didn't cry at my first support group, two years ago. I didn't cry at my
second or my third support group, either. I didn't cry at blood parasites or
bowel cancers or organic brain dementia.
两年前，我第一次参加康复互助小组，我没哭。第二次，第三次我也没哭。血液寄生虫没哭，肠癌没哭，器官性脑痴呆我也没哭。
This is how it is with insomnia. Everything is so far away, a copy of a
copy of a copy. The insomnia distance of everything, you can't touch
anything and nothing can touch you.
这就是得失眠症的状况。一切都远离你了，一切都是相同的拷贝，拷贝，拷贝。失眠症使你隔绝一切，你什么也接触不到，什么也接触不到你。
Then there was Bob. The first time I went to testicular cancer, Bob the big
moosie, the big cheesebread moved in on top of me in Remaining Men
Together and started crying. The big moosie right across the room
when it was hug time, his arms at his sides, his shoulders rounded. His big
moosie chin on his chest, his eyes already shrink-wrapped in tears.
然后就是鲍勃。我第一次去睾丸癌小组——“还是男人”的时候。大慕斯蛋糕，大干酪鲍勃就向我走了过来然后开始哭。拥抱时间，大幕斯过来了，张开双臂，打开肩膀，他的胸部顶着他大幕斯下巴。眼泪早已在他的眼眶里打转。
Shuffling his feet, knees together invisible steps, Bob slid across the
basement floor to heave himself on me.
拖着小碎步，摩擦着膝盖，鲍勃冲我过来了。
Bob pancaked down on me.
他像薄饼一样压住了我。
Bob's big arms wrapped around me.
鲍勃的打胳膊紧紧地抱住了我。
Big Bob was a juicer, he said. All those salad days on Dianabol and then
the racehorse steroid, Wistrol. His own gym, Big Bob owned a gym. He'd
been married three times. He'd done product endorsements, and had I seen
him on television, ever? The whole how-to program about expanding your
chest was practically his invention.
鲍勃说，他曾是一个健美先生。他年轻的时候在黛安娜波尔表演和比赛，然后注射了给赛马用的类固醇，Wistrol。他自己开了一个健身房。大鲍勃有一个健身房。他结了三次婚。他为一些商品做过代言，我难道曾经在电视上看过他？那些告诉你怎么使胸大肌扩大的节目上的方法差不多都是他的点子。
Strangers with this kind of honesty make me go a big rubbery one, if you
know what I mean.
如此坦白的陌生人使我变成了一个大橡胶人，如果你明白我什么意思。
Bob didn't know. Maybe only one of his huevos had ever descended, and
he knew this was a risk factor. Bob told me about postoperative hormone
therapy.
鲍勃不知道，他可能只遗传了一个性腺，而且他知道这是一个危险的音速。鲍勃告诉我一切有关手术后荷尔蒙疗法的事情。
A lot of bodybuilders shooting too much testosterone would get what they
called bitch tits.
很多健美者注射了太多睾丸激素以后就会长出奶子。
I had to ask what Bob meant by huevos.
我得问问鲍勃huevos是什么意思？
Huevos, Bob said. Gonads. Nuts. Jewels. Testes. Balls. In Mexico, where
you buy your steroids, they call them "eggs."
Huevos啊，鲍勃说，性腺。坚果，宝石，睾丸，球球。在墨西哥，你买类固醇的地方，他们叫它“蛋蛋”。
Divorce, divorce, divorce, Bob said and showed me a wallet photo of
himself huge and naked at first glance, in a posing strap at some contest.
It's a stupid way to live, Bob said, but when you're pumped and shaved on
stage, totally shredded with body fat down to around two percent and the
diuretics leave you cold and hard as concrete to touch, You're blind from
the lights, and deaf from the feedback rush of the sound system until the
judge orders: "Extend your right quad, flex and hold."
"Extend your left arm, flex the bicep and hold."
离婚，离婚，离婚。鲍勃一边说一边给我看一张他钱包上的照片，那是他本人，身形巨大，乍一看好像没穿衣服，在台上摆出一个造型。这是个傻逼活法，但当你在台上上气不接下气，体内已经被降到2%的脂肪已经是你觉得寒冷，而利尿剂更是雪上加霜，你摸上去就是块石头板。你在灯光中变成了瞎子，耳朵也听不到音响的信息知道裁判命令道：
‘伸展你的右肩，弯曲并保持住。’
‘伸长你的左臂，弯曲二头肌并保持住。’
This is better than real life.
这比现实好多了。
Fast-forward, Bob said, to the cancer. Then he was bankrupt. He had two
grown kids who wouldn't return his calls.
我快点说，鲍勃说，直接说癌症吧。然后他就破产了。他两个孩子连他的电话都会愿意回。
The cure for bitch tits was for the doctor to cut up under the pectorals and
drain any fluid. 对于大咪咪，医生的治疗意见是在胸部下边切一个小口，然乳房里的东西流出来。
This was all I remember because then Bob was closing in around me with
his arms, and his head was folding down to cover me. Then I was lost
inside oblivion, dark and silent and complete, and when I finally stepped
away from his soft chest, the front of Bob's shirt was a wet mask of how I
looked crying.
我只记得这些，因为鲍勃然后就把我搂在怀里，他低下他的头，我整个就被他淹没了。在那里是完全的黑暗和寂静，我遗忘了一切。当我离开他的怀抱的时候，我的泪水在他的T恤上印出来一个人脸。
That was two years ago, at my first night with Remaining Men Together.
At almost every meeting since then, Big Bob has made me cry.
这是两年以前。我去“还是男人”的第一个晚上。以后基本上每一次聚会，鲍勃都会让我痛哭流涕。
I never went back to the doctor. I never chewed the valerian root.
我再也没去看医生，我再也没嚼缬草根。
This was freedom. Losing all hope was freedom. If I didn't say anything,
people in a group assumed the worst. They cried harder. I cried harder.
Look up into the stars and you're gone.
这就是自由，失去所有希望就是自由。如果我什么也不说，互助小组的人就会认为我是最糟的。然后他们哭得更厉害。我也哭得更厉害。抬头看看星星，你马上就是那其中的一颗了。
Walking home after a support group, I felt more alive than I'd ever felt. I
wasn't host to cancer or blood parasites; I was the little warm center that
the life of the world crowded around.
从互助小组往家走的路上，我感到了前所未有的存在感。癌症和血液寄生虫不在我身上。我是这拥挤世界上的温暖中心。
And I slept. Babies don't sleep this well.
然后我睡着了。就算是婴儿也没我睡得这么香。
Every evening, I died, and every evening, I was born.
每个晚上，我死去。每个晚上，我出生。
Resurrected.
复活。
Until tonight, two years of success until tonight, because I can't cry with
this woman watching me. Because I can't hit bottom, I can't be saved. My
tongue thinks it has flocked wallpaper, I'm biting the inside of my mouth
so much. I haven't slept in four days.
直到今晚，持续了两年的成功直到今晚，因为在哪个女人的注视下我再也哭不出来了。因为我找不到伤心的按钮，我无法被拯救。我的嘴巴里面好像塞满了壁纸，我的嘴里疼得厉害。我已经四天没睡了。
With her watching, I'm a liar. She's a fake. She's the liar. At the
introductions tonight, we introduced ourselves: I'm Bob, I'm Paul, I'm
Terry, I'm David.
在她的注视下，我成了一个骗子。她是个冒牌货，她是个骗子。在今晚的介绍里，我们这样介绍自己：我是鲍勃。我是保罗。我是泰瑞。我是戴维。
I never give my real name.
我从不用我的真名。
"'This is cancer, right?" she said.
这是癌症，对吗？她说。
Then she said, "Well, hi, I'm Marla Singer."
然后他说“好，大家好，我是玛拉辛格。”
Nobody ever told Marla what kind of cancer. Then we were all busy
cradling our inner child.
没人告诉玛拉这是很么癌症，然后我们开始交换我们内心的秘密，就像共同养育我们的小婴儿。
The man still crying against her neck, Marla takes another drag on her
cigarette.
那个男人还是对着她的脖子哭。玛拉深吸了一口另外一只烟。
I watch her from between Bob's shuddering tits.
我鲍勃的两个奶子中间看玛拉。
To Marla I'm a fake. Since the second night I saw her, I can't sleep. Still, I
was the first fake, unless, maybe all these people are faking with their
lesions and their coughs and tumors, even Big Bob, the big moosie. The
big cheesebread.
对玛拉来说，我是个冒牌货。自从我第二天看到她，我就睡不着了。至少，我是第一个冒牌货，除非那些家伙的咳嗽和肿瘤都是装的，甚至包括大鲍勃，大幕斯，大干酪。
Would you just look at his sculpted hair.
你真应该看看他特意造型的头发。
Marla smokes and rolls her eyes now.
玛拉一边抽烟一边转动着她的眼睛。
In this one moment, Marla's lie reflects my lie, and all I can see are lies. In
the middle of all their truth. Everyone clinging and risking to share their
worst fear, that their death is coming head-on and the barrel of a gun is
pressed against the back of their throats. Well, Marla is smoking and
rolling her eyes, and me, I'm buried under a sobbing carpet, and all of a
sudden even death and dying rank right down there with plastic flowers on
video as a non-event.
就在这个时候，玛拉的谎言映射了我的谎言，在他们之中所有的真实，在我眼里变成了谎言。所有人都执著而又冒险地分享着他们最深的恐惧，死亡就像伸在他们嗓子眼里的枪管。好吧，玛拉一边抽烟一边滴溜溜地转着眼睛，而我埋在一个湿地毯上，所有的甚至连死亡都像电视上的塑料花一样毫无意义。
"Bob," I say, "you're crushing me." I try to whisper, then I don't. "Bob." I
try to keep my voice down, then I'm yelling. "Bob, I have to go to the
can."
“鲍勃，”我说，“你要压死我了。”我想试着小声说，可是那不可能“鲍勃。”我试着把我的声音压低，然后我嚎叫到“鲍勃，我想去洗手间。”
A mirror hangs over the sink in the bathroom. If the pattern holds, I'll see
Marla Singer at Above and Beyond, the parasitic brain dysfunction group.
Marla will be there. Of course, Marla will be there, and what I'll do is sit
next to her. And after the introductions and the guided meditation, the
seven doors of the palace, the white healing ball of light, after we open our
chakras, when it comes time to hug, I'll grab the little bitch.
厕所的水池上方挂着一面镜子。如果这样下去，我会在“向上超越”那个脑部寄生虫小组看见玛拉辛格。玛拉会在那儿，当然，玛拉一定会在那儿，然后我会坐在她的旁边。在介绍和冥想指引以后，宫殿的七扇大门，白色的治疗光球，我们打开脉门以后，大家开始拥抱的时候，我会拥抱这个小贱人。
Her arms squeezed tight against her sides, and my lips pressed against her
ear, I'll say, Marla, you big fake, you get out.
她的胳膊紧紧地贴着她的身体两侧。我的嘴唇对这她的耳朵说，玛拉，你这个大冒牌货，给我滚出去。
This is the one real thing in my life, and you're wrecking it.
这是我生活中唯一真是的事情，而你却要搞砸它。
You big tourist.
你这个无聊的看客。
The next time we meet, I'll say, Marla, I can't sleep with you here. I need
this. Get out.
我们下次见面的时候我一定要说，玛拉，就是因为你在这，我都睡不着了。我需要这里，你滚！
BOB'S BIG ARMS were closed around to hold me inside, and I was
squeezed in the dark between Bob's new sweating tits that hang enormous,
the way we think of God's as big. Going around the church basement full
of men, each night we met: this is Art, this is Paul, this is Bob; Bob's big
shoulders made me think of the horizon. Bob's thick blond hair was what
you get when hair cream calls itself sculpting mousse, so thick and blond
and the part is so straight.
鲍勃的大胳膊把我紧紧搂住，我被挤进鲍勃满是汗湿的两个巨大新乳房之间的黑暗之中，让我想到上帝的乳房会不会也如此的大。教堂的地下室里面全是人，我们每天晚上都见面，这是阿特，这是保罗，这是鲍勃。鲍勃宽大的肩膀让我想起了地平线。鲍勃有一头厚厚的金发，而且梳得很整齐。
His arms wrapped around me, Bob's hand palms my head against the new
tits sprouted on his barrel chest.
他的胳膊紧紧地抱着我。我的头正对着他水桶一样的胸部上的正在发育的乳房，他用手掌轻拍我的脑袋。
"It will be alright," Bob says. "You cry now."
我现在好多了。鲍勃说。该你哭了。
From my knees to my forehead, I feel chemical reactions within Bob
burning food and oxygen.
配合着鲍勃燃烧掉的食物和氧气，我从头到脚都感到了一种化学反应。
"Maybe they got it all early enough," Bob says. "Maybe it's just
seminoma. With seminoma, you have almost a hundred percent survival
rate."
他们可能早就知道了，鲍勃说，可能这就是精原细胞癌，要是得了精原细胞癌，还是百分之百能活下来的。
Bob's shoulders inhale themselves up in a long draw, then drop, drop, drop
in jerking sobs. Draw themselves up. Drop, drop, drop.
鲍勃的肩膀深深地向里靠拢，然后开始随着他的抽泣垂了下去，垂了下去，垂了下去，垂了下去。他又把肩膀向上提，然后又垂了下去，垂了下去，垂了下去，垂了下去。
I've been coming here every week for two years, and every week Bob
wraps his arms around me, and I cry.
两年来，我每个星期来着两次，每个星期，鲍勃都抱着我，而我哭。
"You cry," Bob says and inhales and sob, sob, sobs. "Go on now and cry."
“你哭吧，”鲍勃边说边抽泣，抽泣，抽泣，“继续哭吧。”
The big wet face settles down on top of my head, and I am lost inside.
鲍勃那趟着热泪的大脸上平静了下来，垂到我的脑袋上，而我则在鲍勃的怀里迷失。
This is when I'd cry. Crying is right at hand in the smothering dark, closed
inside someone else, when you see how everything you can ever
accomplish will end up as trash.
这就是我哭的时候。当你发现你做过的所有事情最后都变成了一堆垃圾的时候，在别人那黑乎乎的令人窒息的怀里哭是一件很容易的事。
Anything you're ever proud of will be thrown away.
所有你引以为豪的东西都会滚蛋。
And I'm lost inside.
而我则会迷失。
This is as close as I've been to sleeping in almost a week.
这会使我感到我差不多睡了一个星期。
This is how I met Marla Singer.
这是我为什么遇到了玛拉辛格。
Bob cries because six months ago, his testicles were removed. Then
hormone support therapy. Bob has tits because his testosterone ration is
too high. Raise the testosterone level too much, your body ups the
estrogen to seek a balance.
鲍勃哭，因为六个月以前，他的睾丸被摘除了。然后他接受了荷尔蒙疗法，提高了他身上的睾丸激素，而身体为了保持平衡必须分泌大量的雌性激素，然后鲍勃就长出了奶子。
This is when I'd cry because right now, your life comes down to nothing,
and not even nothing, oblivion.
这是为什么这时候我要哭，因为你的生活已经坍塌成虚无，甚至虚无都算不上，只是你被完全地遗忘。
Too much estrogen, and you get bitch tits.
太多的雌激素，让你有娘们的奶子。
It's easy to cry when you realize that everyone you love will reject you or
die. On a long enough time line, the survival rate for everyone will drop to
zero.
当你意识到所有你爱的人都会拒绝你或者死去，哭就变得十分自然。在一条足够足够长的时间上，所有人的存活率都会变成零。
Bob loves me because he thinks my testicles were removed, too.
鲍勃喜欢我是因为他以为我的睾丸也被摘除了。
Around us in the Trinity Episcopal basement with the thrift store plaid
sofas are maybe twenty men and only one woman, all of them clung
together in pairs, most of them crying. Some pairs lean forward, heads
pressed ear-to-ear, the way wrestlers stand, locked. The man with the only
woman plants his elbows on her shoulders; one elbow on either side of her
head, her head between his hands, and his face crying against her neck.
The woman's face twists off to one side and her hand brings up a cigarette.
I peek out from under the armpit of Big Bob.
这个三位一体教堂地下室，很多从廉价商店买来的呢子格沙发围着我们摆着，我们有大概20个男人，可只有一个女人，大部分一对一对地抱着，大部分在哭。有的一对往前倾，两个脑袋交叉，耳朵贴着耳朵，就像两个僵持不下的摔跤手。一个男人把一个胳膊肘放在唯一的女人的肩膀上，另一个胳膊肘放在女人的脑袋上，女人的脑袋在他的两手之间，而他把脸冲着女人的脖子放声大哭。这个女人两次把头扭向另一边，她的手里拿着一根烟。
"All my life," Bob cries. "Why I do anything, I don't know."
“我这一辈子”鲍勃哭着说，“我他妈的也不知道自己在干什么”
The only woman here at Remaining Men Together, the testicular cancer
support group, this woman smokes her cigarette under the burden of a
stranger, and her eyes come together with mine.
这群男人中唯一的女人，睾丸癌小组唯一的女人，在众目睽睽之下吸烟，和我四目相交。
Faker.
Faker.
Faker.
冒牌货。
冒牌货。
冒牌货。
Short matte black hair, big eyes the way they are in Japanese animation,
skim milk thin, buttermilk sallow in her dress with a wallpaper pattern of
dark roses, this woman was also in my tuberculosis support group Friday
night. She was in my melanoma round table Wednesday night. Monday
night she was in my Firm Believers leukemia rap group. The part down
the center of her hair is a crooked lightning bolt of white scalp.
粗糙的黑色短发，日本动漫里才有的大眼睛，像是脱脂牛奶那么瘦，乳酪那种黄色的裙子上印着壁纸那种风格的黑色玫瑰，星期五晚上这个女人出现在我的肺结核互助小组，星期三晚上她出现在我的黑素瘤圆桌会，星期一晚上她出现在我的“坚定信仰者”白血病研究小组。她头发中心部位的下方露出一块弯曲的闪电状白色头皮。
When you look for these support groups, they all have vague upbeat
names. My Thursday evening group for blood parasites, it's called Free
and Clear.
当你去寻找这些小组的时候，你会发现他们都有一个模糊而又积极向上的名字。比如我星期三的血液寄生虫小组就叫“自由和清澈”。
The group I go to for brain parasites is called Above and Beyond.
而我去的脑部寄生虫小组则叫“向上超越”
And Sunday afternoon at Remaining Men Together in the basement of
Trinity Episcopal, this woman is here, again.
星期三下午在三位一体教堂地下室，“还是男人”小组，这个女人又来了。
Worse than that, I can't cry with her watching.
比这个更糟的是，在她的注视下，我再也哭不出来了。
This should be my favorite part, being held and crying with Big Bob
without hope. We all work so hard all the time. This is the only place I
ever really relax and give up.
我本该是我最喜欢的部分——抱着大奶子鲍勃绝望地哭。所有的时间我都在辛苦地工作。只有这个地方可以让我真正地感到放松可以抛弃一切。
This is my vacation.
这是我的假期。
I went to my first support group two years ago, after I'd gone to my doctor
about my insomnia, again.
两年以前，在我又去治疗失眠症无效后，我第一次去了康复互助小组。
Three weeks and I hadn't slept. Three weeks without sleep, and everything
becomes an out-of-body experience. My doctor said, "Insomnia is just the
symptom of something larger. Find out what's actually wrong. Listen to
your body."
我已经整整三个星期睡不着觉了。三个星期没睡觉，一切都游离于身体之外了。我的医生说，“失眠只是其他疾病的征兆。要找出你身体那倒哪出了毛病， 得跟着你身体的感觉走。
I just wanted to sleep. I wanted little blue Amytal Sodium capsules,
200milligram-sized. I wanted red-and-blue Tuinal bullet capsules, lipstick-
red Seconals.
我只是想睡觉。我只是想要一点蓝的Amytal催眠药。200毫克就够。我需要红的蓝的Tuinal安眠药胶囊子弹，红的速可眠唇膏。
My doctor told me to chew valerian root and get more exercise.
我的医生告诉我需要嚼一些缬草根和一些锻炼。
Eventually I'd fall asleep.
最后我还是睡着了。
The bruised, old fruit way my face had collapsed, you would've thought I
was dead.
我受伤了，看到我烂水果一样的脸，你一定会觉得我死了。
My doctor said, if I wanted to see real pain, I should swing by First
Eucharist on a Tuesday night. See the brain parasites. See the degenerative
bone diseases. The organic brain dysfunctions. See the cancer patients
getting by.
我的医生说，如果我想知道什么才叫痛苦，我就应该星期二晚上吃完圣餐以后，去看看那些脑部寄生虫患者，去看看骨质疏松病患者，去看看器质性脑官能障碍患者，再去看看癌症患者。
So I went.
我就去了。
The first group I went to, there were introductions: this is Alice, this is
Brenda, this is Dover. Everyone smiles with that invisible gun to their
head.
我去的第一个小组，那会给你较少一下，这是爱丽丝，这是布伦达。这是丹佛。所有的人都在微笑，但看不见的枪正在指着他们的脑袋。
I never give my real name at support groups.
在康复互助小组我从来不用真名。
The little skeleton of a woman named Chloe with the seat of her pants
hanging down sad and empty, Chloe tells me the worst thing about her
brain parasites was no one would have sex with her. Here she was, so
close to death that her life insurance policy had paid off with seventy-five
thousand bucks, and all Chloe wanted was to get laid for the last time. Not
intimacy, sex.
一个叫克洛伊的骨瘦如柴的女人，她坐在那，裤子里面空荡荡的。克洛伊告我她得了脑部寄生虫后最糟的事情就是没人想和她做爱了。她已经支付了七万五千美元的人寿保险，她真的快死了。而克洛伊想要做最后一次爱，不要爱抚，只要做爱。
What does a guy say? What can you say, I mean.
听到这个，一个爷们能说啥？我是说，我能说啥？
All this dying had started with Chloe being a little tired, and now Chloe
was too bored to go in for treatment. Pornographic movies, she had
pornographic movies at home in her apartment.
克洛伊的死亡始于她有一天感到有点累。而现在克洛伊已经对治疗提不起兴趣了。色情电影，在她的公寓里有很多毛片。
During the French Revolution, Chloe told me, the women in prison, the
duchesses, baronesses, marquises, whatever, they would screw any man
who'd climb on top. Chloe breathed against my neck. Climb on top. Pony
up, did I know. Screwing passed the time.
在法国大革命的时候，克洛伊告诉我，女人被关进监狱，公爵夫人，男爵夫人，侯爵夫人，她们可以和所有的男人爬到她们身上的男人做爱。克洛伊对着我的脖子呼吸，爬上来吧，小种马，知道吗？用操逼渡过时间。
La petite mort, the French called it.
法语里叫La petite mort。
Chloe had pornographic movies, if I was interested. Amyl nitrate.
Lubricants.
克洛伊有毛片，如果我有兴趣，还可以有毛片和润滑剂。
Normal times, I'd be sporting an erection. Our Chloe, however, is a
skeleton dipped in yellow wax.
正常的情况下，我会高高兴兴地勃起。可是我们的克洛伊，也就是黄蜡下面一个骷髅。
Chloe looking the way she is, I am nothing. Not even nothing. Still,
Chloe's shoulder pokes mine when we sit around a circle on the shag
carpet. We close our eyes. This was Chloe's turn to lead us in guided
meditation, and she talked us into the garden of serenity. Chloe talked us
up the hill to the palace of seven doors. Inside the palace were the seven
doors, the green door, the yellow door, the orange door, and Chloe talked
us through opening each door, the blue door, the red door, the white door,
and finding what was there.
克洛伊还知道她想干什么，知道她是什么，我却什么也不是，甚至连虚无也不是。我们在地毯上坐成一圈，克洛伊的肩膀顶着我的肩膀。我们闭上眼睛。这次轮到克洛伊带着我们进入冥想，她带领我们进入了秘密花园。他带领我们爬上山之后看见了一个宫殿，宫殿有七个门，绿色的门，黄色的门，橙色的门。然后克洛伊带领我们打开每扇门，蓝色的门，红色的们，白色的门，然后带我们去找那里面的东西。
Eyes closed, we imagined our pain as a ball of white healing light floating
around our feet and rising to our knees, our waist, our chest. Our chakras
opening. The heart chakra. The head chakra. Chloe talked us into caves
where we met our power animal. Mine was a penguin.
闭上眼睛。我们想象一个白色的治疗光球正从我们的脚部升到我们的膝盖，然后升到我们的腰部，升到我们的胸部。我们的脉门打开了。心之脉门。脑之脉门。克洛伊把我们带到一个山洞，我们会见到自己的守护兽。我的是一只企鹅。
Ice covered the floor of the cave, and the penguin said, slide. Without any
effort, we slid through tunnels and galleries.
冰雪覆盖的山洞，企鹅说，滑！毫不费力地，我就滑过了隧道。
Then it was time to hug.
然后我们相互拥抱。
Open your eyes.
睁开眼睛。
This was therapeutic physical contact, Chloe said. We should all choose a
partner. Chloe threw herself around my head and cried. She had strapless
underwear at home, and cried. Chloe had oils and handcuffs, and cried as I
watched the second hand on my watch go around eleven times.
这是身体接触疗法，克洛伊说。我们都得选择一个伙伴。克洛伊趴在我的头上哭，她家有无带性感内衣，她哭，她有性爱用油和手铐，她哭的时候我看了看我第二只手上的手表，时间已经指向了11点左右。
So I didn't cry at my first support group, two years ago. I didn't cry at my
second or my third support group, either. I didn't cry at blood parasites or
bowel cancers or organic brain dementia.
两年前，我第一次参加康复互助小组，我没哭。第二次，第三次我也没哭。血液寄生虫没哭，肠癌没哭，器官性脑痴呆我也没哭。
This is how it is with insomnia. Everything is so far away, a copy of a
copy of a copy. The insomnia distance of everything, you can't touch
anything and nothing can touch you.
这就是得失眠症的状况。一切都远离你了，一切都是相同的拷贝，拷贝，拷贝。失眠症使你隔绝一切，你什么也接触不到，什么也接触不到你。
Then there was Bob. The first time I went to testicular cancer, Bob the big
moosie, the big cheesebread moved in on top of me in Remaining Men
Together and started crying. The big moosie right across the room
when it was hug time, his arms at his sides, his shoulders rounded. His big
moosie chin on his chest, his eyes already shrink-wrapped in tears.
然后就是鲍勃。我第一次去睾丸癌小组——“还是男人”的时候。大慕斯蛋糕，大干酪鲍勃就向我走了过来然后开始哭。拥抱时间，大幕斯过来了，张开双臂，打开肩膀，他的胸部顶着他大幕斯下巴。眼泪早已在他的眼眶里打转。
Shuffling his feet, knees together invisible steps, Bob slid across the
basement floor to heave himself on me.
拖着小碎步，摩擦着膝盖，鲍勃冲我过来了。
Bob pancaked down on me.
他像薄饼一样压住了我。
Bob's big arms wrapped around me.
鲍勃的打胳膊紧紧地抱住了我。
Big Bob was a juicer, he said. All those salad days on Dianabol and then
the racehorse steroid, Wistrol. His own gym, Big Bob owned a gym. He'd
been married three times. He'd done product endorsements, and had I seen
him on television, ever? The whole how-to program about expanding your
chest was practically his invention.
鲍勃说，他曾是一个健美先生。他年轻的时候在黛安娜波尔表演和比赛，然后注射了给赛马用的类固醇，Wistrol。他自己开了一个健身房。大鲍勃有一个健身房。他结了三次婚。他为一些商品做过代言，我难道曾经在电视上看过他？那些告诉你怎么使胸大肌扩大的节目上的方法差不多都是他的点子。
Strangers with this kind of honesty make me go a big rubbery one, if you
know what I mean.
如此坦白的陌生人使我变成了一个大橡胶人，如果你明白我什么意思。
Bob didn't know. Maybe only one of his huevos had ever descended, and
he knew this was a risk factor. Bob told me about postoperative hormone
therapy.
鲍勃不知道，他可能只遗传了一个性腺，而且他知道这是一个危险的音速。鲍勃告诉我一切有关手术后荷尔蒙疗法的事情。
A lot of bodybuilders shooting too much testosterone would get what they
called bitch tits.
很多健美者注射了太多睾丸激素以后就会长出奶子。
I had to ask what Bob meant by huevos.
我得问问鲍勃huevos是什么意思？
Huevos, Bob said. Gonads. Nuts. Jewels. Testes. Balls. In Mexico, where
you buy your steroids, they call them "eggs."
Huevos啊，鲍勃说，性腺。坚果，宝石，睾丸，球球。在墨西哥，你买类固醇的地方，他们叫它“蛋蛋”。
Divorce, divorce, divorce, Bob said and showed me a wallet photo of
himself huge and naked at first glance, in a posing strap at some contest.
It's a stupid way to live, Bob said, but when you're pumped and shaved on
stage, totally shredded with body fat down to around two percent and the
diuretics leave you cold and hard as concrete to touch, You're blind from
the lights, and deaf from the feedback rush of the sound system until the
judge orders: "Extend your right quad, flex and hold."
"Extend your left arm, flex the bicep and hold."
离婚，离婚，离婚。鲍勃一边说一边给我看一张他钱包上的照片，那是他本人，身形巨大，乍一看好像没穿衣服，在台上摆出一个造型。这是个傻逼活法，但当你在台上上气不接下气，体内已经被降到2%的脂肪已经是你觉得寒冷，而利尿剂更是雪上加霜，你摸上去就是块石头板。你在灯光中变成了瞎子，耳朵也听不到音响的信息知道裁判命令道：
‘伸展你的右肩，弯曲并保持住。’
‘伸长你的左臂，弯曲二头肌并保持住。’
This is better than real life.
这比现实好多了。
Fast-forward, Bob said, to the cancer. Then he was bankrupt. He had two
grown kids who wouldn't return his calls.
我快点说，鲍勃说，直接说癌症吧。然后他就破产了。他两个孩子连他的电话都会愿意回。
The cure for bitch tits was for the doctor to cut up under the pectorals and
drain any fluid. 对于大咪咪，医生的治疗意见是在胸部下边切一个小口，然乳房里的东西流出来。
This was all I remember because then Bob was closing in around me with
his arms, and his head was folding down to cover me. Then I was lost
inside oblivion, dark and silent and complete, and when I finally stepped
away from his soft chest, the front of Bob's shirt was a wet mask of how I
looked crying.
我只记得这些，因为鲍勃然后就把我搂在怀里，他低下他的头，我整个就被他淹没了。在那里是完全的黑暗和寂静，我遗忘了一切。当我离开他的怀抱的时候，我的泪水在他的T恤上印出来一个人脸。
That was two years ago, at my first night with Remaining Men Together.
At almost every meeting since then, Big Bob has made me cry.
这是两年以前。我去“还是男人”的第一个晚上。以后基本上每一次聚会，鲍勃都会让我痛哭流涕。
I never went back to the doctor. I never chewed the valerian root.
我再也没去看医生，我再也没嚼缬草根。
This was freedom. Losing all hope was freedom. If I didn't say anything,
people in a group assumed the worst. They cried harder. I cried harder.
Look up into the stars and you're gone.
这就是自由，失去所有希望就是自由。如果我什么也不说，互助小组的人就会认为我是最糟的。然后他们哭得更厉害。我也哭得更厉害。抬头看看星星，你马上就是那其中的一颗了。
Walking home after a support group, I felt more alive than I'd ever felt. I
wasn't host to cancer or blood parasites; I was the little warm center that
the life of the world crowded around.
从互助小组往家走的路上，我感到了前所未有的存在感。癌症和血液寄生虫不在我身上。我是这拥挤世界上的温暖中心。
And I slept. Babies don't sleep this well.
然后我睡着了。就算是婴儿也没我睡得这么香。
Every evening, I died, and every evening, I was born.
每个晚上，我死去。每个晚上，我出生。
Resurrected.
复活。
Until tonight, two years of success until tonight, because I can't cry with
this woman watching me. Because I can't hit bottom, I can't be saved. My
tongue thinks it has flocked wallpaper, I'm biting the inside of my mouth
so much. I haven't slept in four days.
直到今晚，持续了两年的成功直到今晚，因为在哪个女人的注视下我再也哭不出来了。因为我找不到伤心的按钮，我无法被拯救。我的嘴巴里面好像塞满了壁纸，我的嘴里疼得厉害。我已经四天没睡了。
With her watching, I'm a liar. She's a fake. She's the liar. At the
introductions tonight, we introduced ourselves: I'm Bob, I'm Paul, I'm
Terry, I'm David.
在她的注视下，我成了一个骗子。她是个冒牌货，她是个骗子。在今晚的介绍里，我们这样介绍自己：我是鲍勃。我是保罗。我是泰瑞。我是戴维。
I never give my real name.
我从不用我的真名。
"'This is cancer, right?" she said.
这是癌症，对吗？她说。
Then she said, "Well, hi, I'm Marla Singer."
然后他说“好，大家好，我是玛拉辛格。”
Nobody ever told Marla what kind of cancer. Then we were all busy
cradling our inner child.
没人告诉玛拉这是很么癌症，然后我们开始交换我们内心的秘密，就像共同养育我们的小婴儿。
The man still crying against her neck, Marla takes another drag on her
cigarette.
那个男人还是对着她的脖子哭。玛拉深吸了一口另外一只烟。
I watch her from between Bob's shuddering tits.
我鲍勃的两个奶子中间看玛拉。
To Marla I'm a fake. Since the second night I saw her, I can't sleep. Still, I
was the first fake, unless, maybe all these people are faking with their
lesions and their coughs and tumors, even Big Bob, the big moosie. The
big cheesebread.
对玛拉来说，我是个冒牌货。自从我第二天看到她，我就睡不着了。至少，我是第一个冒牌货，除非那些家伙的咳嗽和肿瘤都是装的，甚至包括大鲍勃，大幕斯，大干酪。
Would you just look at his sculpted hair.
你真应该看看他特意造型的头发。
Marla smokes and rolls her eyes now.
玛拉一边抽烟一边转动着她的眼睛。
In this one moment, Marla's lie reflects my lie, and all I can see are lies. In
the middle of all their truth. Everyone clinging and risking to share their
worst fear, that their death is coming head-on and the barrel of a gun is
pressed against the back of their throats. Well, Marla is smoking and
rolling her eyes, and me, I'm buried under a sobbing carpet, and all of a
sudden even death and dying rank right down there with plastic flowers on
video as a non-event.
就在这个时候，玛拉的谎言映射了我的谎言，在他们之中所有的真实，在我眼里变成了谎言。所有人都执著而又冒险地分享着他们最深的恐惧，死亡就像伸在他们嗓子眼里的枪管。好吧，玛拉一边抽烟一边滴溜溜地转着眼睛，而我埋在一个湿地毯上，所有的甚至连死亡都像电视上的塑料花一样毫无意义。
"Bob," I say, "you're crushing me." I try to whisper, then I don't. "Bob." I
try to keep my voice down, then I'm yelling. "Bob, I have to go to the
can."
“鲍勃，”我说，“你要压死我了。”我想试着小声说，可是那不可能“鲍勃。”我试着把我的声音压低，然后我嚎叫到“鲍勃，我想去洗手间。”
A mirror hangs over the sink in the bathroom. If the pattern holds, I'll see
Marla Singer at Above and Beyond, the parasitic brain dysfunction group.
Marla will be there. Of course, Marla will be there, and what I'll do is sit
next to her. And after the introductions and the guided meditation, the
seven doors of the palace, the white healing ball of light, after we open our
chakras, when it comes time to hug, I'll grab the little bitch.
厕所的水池上方挂着一面镜子。如果这样下去，我会在“向上超越”那个脑部寄生虫小组看见玛拉辛格。玛拉会在那儿，当然，玛拉一定会在那儿，然后我会坐在她的旁边。在介绍和冥想指引以后，宫殿的七扇大门，白色的治疗光球，我们打开脉门以后，大家开始拥抱的时候，我会拥抱这个小贱人。
Her arms squeezed tight against her sides, and my lips pressed against her
ear, I'll say, Marla, you big fake, you get out.
她的胳膊紧紧地贴着她的身体两侧。我的嘴唇对这她的耳朵说，玛拉，你这个大冒牌货，给我滚出去。
This is the one real thing in my life, and you're wrecking it.
这是我生活中唯一真是的事情，而你却要搞砸它。
You big tourist.
你这个无聊的看客。
The next time we meet, I'll say, Marla, I can't sleep with you here. I need
this. Get out.
我们下次见面的时候我一定要说，玛拉，就是因为你在这，我都睡不着了。我需要这里，你滚！
