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Descriptive Essay About Dance

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I carry my personality in a dance bag. My stinky dance shoes and sweaty gym clothing hide wet and wrinkled at the bottom of a neon orange backpack. The soaked clothing wraps its long sleeves around a heavily used cucumber-scented deodorant and a bottle of perfume in an attempt to mask the vile smells of sweat and hardwork. I always pack one article of black clothing, either a skirt, a dress, or a leotard; yet in my mind I know that “people who wear black lead colorful lives” reminding me that there is more to me than the black dress I wear to practice. I shuffle my heavy feet. Each day, my toes become even more blistered and sore than the previous day. Three inch heels for at least three hours a day are not easy to dance on. After every practice, I peel off the black dress, like my skin. I could wring out the condensation if I really wanted to. My messy hair turns as wet as if I took a shower, drenched in sweat. I carry pressure to become the best dancer I can be, among thousands of successful teenagers just like me around the world. The longing-the burning ache to become the world champion, a desire that seems too far away to attain. The hunger for a new dance partner weighs more than my familiar backpack, filled to the brim with grades that seem to determine my entire being and future. I yearn for a partner who will treat me with respect, craving to work as hard as me to make it in the dance world. A partner who is willing to put in the work. I am constantly wary of the

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