I like my essay, but I feel it needs a bit of tweaking and critique. Can anyone give any suggestions?
Category II (Intense Emotional Moment) - Briefly describe the most emotionally intense moment you have experienced. Limit your description to two double-spaced, typed pages.
Eight hundred eyes fill a middle school auditorium. They stare blankly at the empty stage before them. These judging, insensitive eyes, belonging to fellow classmates, peers and voluptuous crushes, wait impatiently, expecting to get their five dollars worth of entertainment. Meanwhile, I stand behind the curtain, more nervous than a virgin at a brothel. I'm about to showcase my first original work. The stage is set, and it seems curiously inviting under the dim, blue lights only bright enough to make everything glow. I walk into the still darkness of the stage and wait for my light queue. With nearly four hundred people in the auditorium, I have never heard a room so quiet. I could hear a fly sneeze.
Then, the lights go on. At this moment, I fell like a novice skydiver, hunched at the mouth of a plane, recapping every preceding life event, just in case he never sees another day. My fourteen year old mind was clouded with fright as I stand shaking on the stage in front of a room full of my peers. However, instead of worrying about a queue or a line, I feared for my identity. I have Tourette's Syndrome and I was deathly afraid of my first appearance in front of a live audience.
I was five when my head crossed paths with a concrete floor. The nasty spill granted me a trip to the emergency room and from that day on, I was never the same. Doctors diagnosed me with Tourette's Syndrome. The disorder caused me to twitch, jump, shake, snort, clap, or repeat phrases without my control. I never appreciated the ability to sit still until I was incapable of doing so. The disease took complete control of my life physically and socially. In class, fellow students would stare with judging eyes as I jerked my head back violently. On the playground, kids cured ennui by making fun of me. After all, teasing is more fun than tag. For them, I was walking entertainment. For me, Tourrettes was a plague.
In middle school, I discovered a passion for acting. Through acting, I could immerse myself in a character and escape my harsh reality. It was so easy to shed my unwanted idiosyncrasies in exchange for a fresh disguise. Unfortunately, acting goes hand in hand with performance. Even with the camouflage of character, there is no stopping the involuntary disorder hardwired in my brain-I would eventually have to display my twitching body in front of countless students. Fortunately, my dreams of becoming an actor stretched farther than my fears.
Then the lights go up. Now I can see the expression on every audience member's face. My heart is in my mouth. I can already feel the ridicule. "What's wrong with that kid?" Yet, I remain confidant. I worked too hard. I am not going to let a disorder hinder my passions. I commence the performance and put my body on display. Without fault, I nail every queue, every line and look. Students who never saw this side of me before burst into laughter and applaud the lines I wrote. The play is a smash; and by some miracle, I discovered my tics had completely receded while I acted.
Like an addiction I continued to act for the rest of middle school, and all throughout high school. Each time I graced the stage, I continued to chip away at the disorder that hunted my childhood. Today, the world is my stage, because the disorder I was told I would carry with me forever has nearly vanished entirely. For the first time, I was praised for my deeds. My work, my performance and most importantly, my identity was admired. That night, I learned that the most emotionally intense moment of my life would not be the fear I faced, stepping on that stage, but the joy I experience when I got off of it-the joy of an individual who overcame his problems-an individual respected by his peers.
Category II (Intense Emotional Moment) - Briefly describe the most emotionally intense moment you have experienced. Limit your description to two double-spaced, typed pages.
Eight hundred eyes fill a middle school auditorium. They stare blankly at the empty stage before them. These judging, insensitive eyes, belonging to fellow classmates, peers and voluptuous crushes, wait impatiently, expecting to get their five dollars worth of entertainment. Meanwhile, I stand behind the curtain, more nervous than a virgin at a brothel. I'm about to showcase my first original work. The stage is set, and it seems curiously inviting under the dim, blue lights only bright enough to make everything glow. I walk into the still darkness of the stage and wait for my light queue. With nearly four hundred people in the auditorium, I have never heard a room so quiet. I could hear a fly sneeze.
Then, the lights go on. At this moment, I fell like a novice skydiver, hunched at the mouth of a plane, recapping every preceding life event, just in case he never sees another day. My fourteen year old mind was clouded with fright as I stand shaking on the stage in front of a room full of my peers. However, instead of worrying about a queue or a line, I feared for my identity. I have Tourette's Syndrome and I was deathly afraid of my first appearance in front of a live audience.
I was five when my head crossed paths with a concrete floor. The nasty spill granted me a trip to the emergency room and from that day on, I was never the same. Doctors diagnosed me with Tourette's Syndrome. The disorder caused me to twitch, jump, shake, snort, clap, or repeat phrases without my control. I never appreciated the ability to sit still until I was incapable of doing so. The disease took complete control of my life physically and socially. In class, fellow students would stare with judging eyes as I jerked my head back violently. On the playground, kids cured ennui by making fun of me. After all, teasing is more fun than tag. For them, I was walking entertainment. For me, Tourrettes was a plague.
In middle school, I discovered a passion for acting. Through acting, I could immerse myself in a character and escape my harsh reality. It was so easy to shed my unwanted idiosyncrasies in exchange for a fresh disguise. Unfortunately, acting goes hand in hand with performance. Even with the camouflage of character, there is no stopping the involuntary disorder hardwired in my brain-I would eventually have to display my twitching body in front of countless students. Fortunately, my dreams of becoming an actor stretched farther than my fears.
Then the lights go up. Now I can see the expression on every audience member's face. My heart is in my mouth. I can already feel the ridicule. "What's wrong with that kid?" Yet, I remain confidant. I worked too hard. I am not going to let a disorder hinder my passions. I commence the performance and put my body on display. Without fault, I nail every queue, every line and look. Students who never saw this side of me before burst into laughter and applaud the lines I wrote. The play is a smash; and by some miracle, I discovered my tics had completely receded while I acted.
Like an addiction I continued to act for the rest of middle school, and all throughout high school. Each time I graced the stage, I continued to chip away at the disorder that hunted my childhood. Today, the world is my stage, because the disorder I was told I would carry with me forever has nearly vanished entirely. For the first time, I was praised for my deeds. My work, my performance and most importantly, my identity was admired. That night, I learned that the most emotionally intense moment of my life would not be the fear I faced, stepping on that stage, but the joy I experience when I got off of it-the joy of an individual who overcame his problems-an individual respected by his peers.