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Hello again, and today is Thursday, March 7, 2013. Most everybody here on Opuss speaks English. Now, we all speak in an accent.
As anyone can tell, I am me. I will never swallow a pill they ask me to take. Though I may stand out to a crowd, I am me. I know I dress a little differently, and my hair is quite pink.
By Gemma Doyle. My wall in my room is how I can ever express myself ya know cause I share a pink (oh why god?!) room with my little sister.
Tonight we design .. Ideas of two men's mind Combine in a cosmic collage of thoughts entwined Tomorrow the permanent representation stabs my skin. Needles so fast and small you can barely see them.
It's a wonderful feeling To publish my works That a silly poem I wrote Might make dozens smirk It's interesting really That you like what I say That my little words Influence your day And sure you'll...
I sit by the piano playing a song, The minor and major chords gorgeously strum, The notes I crumple to form a melody, The notes a stumble to form an ecstasy.
#description Dance is encoded in my DNA Inside the music is where I want to stay It's my passion and gives me life It's not a hobby or a vice.
Another day at school. I would like to say congratulations to my head teacher who has taken an Individualism away so that we can all look like personal robots of society.
I write songs, Day and night, And no I'm not sharing my songs with you, There mine, Mine for life, Something special to hold onto, Something I could say I did myself, I know this isn't a good...
Notebook notebook, Fill me with words. Notebook notebook, Dreams to go unheard. Notebook notebook, Tiny cramped writing. Notebook notebook, A wonderful sighting. Notebook notebook, Poems and stories.
Why are you telling me to let my phone be. Can you not see I am happy this way?. I have nothing to do you see!. Yet you want me to do other stuff than this for a day!. Mom, I want to write.
#household C ontains the clothes I wear that makes you stop and stare L oads of exquisite shoes bought to chase away the blues. O ther bits and pieces nothing with any creases.
I can feel it in my fingers, In my toes and in my soul, A little piece of heaven, When I feel it makes me whole.
I poured my heart out on this paper, And you say I never tried. How can you know these feelings are fake. How do you know that these are lies. These words mean more that words.
I wear my hair around my face, or up around my ears, I wear it how I want to - not to mirror all my peers.
I was quite saddened to read earlier that someone who I was following has decided not to opuss again, because certain people are giving her grief because she posts jokes that she has read on the...