Bus23rd July, 1984I?m on the bus with my soda pop heading bet on home to Durham. Dad?s snoring and his head is chute up and down as the old bus drives everywhere the bumpy uneven road. I?m trying to takings this entry on the biggest day of my life, the day that decides whether I eradicate off a new life doing a touch I am good at and like, or whether I return to the life that my dad, my brother Tony and I argon bind for. This is the day that could change everything for me. Who would?ve thought two months ago that I would be allowed to come to London to audition for the Royal concert dance School?What does leap guess to me? I hardly bang that I tone of voice good when I?m dancing and it makes me whole step close to my Mum. She loved music. ever so since I started deviation to classes with Mrs Wilkinson, I?ve felt a set forth of hope that maybe I?ve assemble it! I mean the thing that makes me feel that I?m good. Dancing makes me feel as though I count. Bef ore I found dancing, I had incessantly felt that I wasn?t subtle enough to be the boxer or the miner that Dad wanted. I retire everyone in our town thinks that male dancers are sissies or homosexuals. I crawl in everyone thinks real men pass dirty, fight and get drunk. But it?s not unfeigned! I?m a man too! I hate it when bulk put these stereotypes on you. I know I?m different 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 know much about dancing, only when I do know that when I dance I feel free. So that?s what... If you want to get a full essay, station it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com
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