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We were being told that we somehow must become what we are not,
不知道為什么我們總是被灌輸，我們必須變成跟自己不同的樣子，
sacrificing what we are to inherit the masquerade of what we will be.
犧牲原本的自我來適應我們將要戴上的身份面具。
I was being told to accept the identity that others will give me.
我總是被要求接受別人賦予我的身份。
And I wondered, what made my dreams so easy to dismiss?
我不明白，為什么我的夢想就這么容易被否定？
Granted, my dreams are shy, because they're Canadian.
好吧，我的夢想們都很害羞，因為它們都是加拿大人。
My dreams are self-conscious and overly apologetic.
我的夢想們，它們都太難為情、太謙卑了。
They're standing alone at the high school dance, and they've never been kissed.
它們孤零零的站在高中舞會的角落，從未被人欣賞過。
See, my dreams got called names too.
你瞧，我的夢想們也被人起了外號。
Silly. Foolish. Impossible. But I kept dreaming.
傻瓜。笨蛋。異想天開。但是我一直懷有夢想。
I was going to be a wrestler. I had it all figured out.
我要做一個摔跤運動員。一切都想好了。
I was going to be The Garbage Man.
我要像垃圾搬運工一樣（去摔跤）。
My finishing move was going to be The Trash Compactor.
我摔跤的結束動作也會像垃圾壓實機一樣。
My saying was going to be, "I'm taking out the trash!"
我的臺詞是:“我要把這垃圾扔出去！”
And then this guy, Duke "The Dumpster" Droese, stole my entire shtick.
然后這個人，杜克·“回收站”·卓斯，搶走了我所有的臺詞。
I was crushed, as if by a trash compactor.
我的心就像是被垃圾壓實機壓過一樣沮喪。
I thought to myself, "What now? Where do I turn?"
我問自己:“怎么辦？我還能做什么？”
Poetry. Like a boomerang, the thing I loved came back to me.
詩歌。我喜愛的東西像回旋鏢一樣又回到了我身邊。
One of the first lines of poetry I can remember writing was in response to a world that demanded I hate myself.
我記得我寫下的第一行詩歌，是對這個讓我憎恨我自己的世界的回應。
