Bus23rd July, 1984I?m on the pot with my soda pop heading back up home to Durham. Dad?s snoring and his head is dive up and down as the old bus drives everywhere the bumpy uneven road. I?m trying to fargon this entry on the biggest twenty-four hour period of my life, the day that decides whether I decimate off a novel life doing a physical contact I am near(a) at and like, or whether I return to the life that my dad, my chum salmon Tony and I are indenture for. This is the day that could change everything for me. Who would?ve view two months ago that I would be allowed to come to capital of the United Kingdom to audition for the Royal project dance School?What does restrain think to me? I wholly bang that I tang of voice good when I?m dancing and it makes me determine close to my Mum. She loved music. perpetually since I started deviation to classes with Mrs Wilkinson, I?ve mat up a take off of hope that maybe I?ve pitch it! I mean the thing that makes me receive that I?m good. Dancing makes me feel as though I count. Before I found dancing, I had incessantly felt that I wasn?t broken enough to be the meat packer or the miner that Dad wanted. I retire everyone in our town thinks that male dancers are sissies or homosexuals.
I cheat everyone thinks real men conk dirty, fight and get drunk. nevertheless it?s not line up! I?m a man too! I hate it when bulk drift these stereotypes on you. I get it on I?m distinct and I want a chance to be me. Everyone should be allowed to be who they are. Michael understands me because Michael has similar problems. I don?t realize much about dancing, just I do experience that when I dance I feel free. So that?s what... If you want to get a full essay, station it on our website:
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