Life-writing by Zadie Smith 生活笔书[英]扎迪·史密斯 作 For a long time I’ve wanted to keep a diary. I tried throughout adolescence but always gave it up. I dreamed of being very frank, like Joe Orton, whose diaries I admired; I found them in the library when I was about fourteen. I read them half as literary interest and half as pornography, thrilled to follow Joe around the many corners of the city in which I had only walked but he had managed to have illicit sex. I thought:If you’re going to write a diary, it should be like this, it should be utterly free, honest. But I found I couldn’t write about sexual desires (too shy, too dishonest), nor could I describe any sexual activity – I wasn’t getting any – and so the diary devolved into a banal account of fake crushes and imagined romance and I was s…