If I could choose a career, I would have chosen that of the classical dancer.
I've always loved dancing.
But like listening to music and improvise a little wistful ballet classical dance in my bedroom.
The door closed and all transport of the music I came across the chest and stomach up to his head.
My room was a rectangle, and then lent itself well to small strokes and ballet.
closed my eyes and pretended to be a good dancer, full of passion and technique.
imagined to wear the beautiful pink shoes worn with a little bit of plaster and satin ribbons introrno narrow ankles. I imagined my pink tights that I wrapped my legs and slipped under the tutu. And then the bun. I thought so high, very high. Imagine also the nose to the French.
Sometimes I used the white drawer knobs with gold bars as resting the foot between the TV and VCR.
I did it for many years. I used the tapes recorded by my sister, who had those weepy compilation titles such as "love forever" or "field-mouse and mouse" with songs recorded from radio or severed.
I also did rhythmic gymnastics, and the rate of fine years with the great.
But this really.
days Then one day I ceased to be high.
I stopped wearing pink tights. And my hair is left loose. And my blood
South has shaped my body.
But I, I have not stopped dreaming of my career as a classical dancer.
Now while trying to cultivate my passion for writing, Kitten has bitten the wire of the charger PC, making him do the sparks, and unplugging the connection that is blown into the house just takes the side of bed I Azzu confined in a room playing video games and then Pritt began to lick the fool next to me and not so I wanted to write.
And this thing that I can not write when I want with my time, is making me take tablets all the emotions which then ends up crying with shit. And my biggest fear is no longer being able to write that is the only thing that I enjoy doing.
So I decided that tomorrow I go to find the boxes with the music box that I had given her mother's friend and that even if the dancer has lost and maybe a tutu arm, I've kept, because I was sure that sooner or later would come the time to listen.
Listening and start dreaming.
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