zσε bℓαck
"Dream as if you'll live forever, because it gives you something to live for,"
With a heavy yawn, Zoe walked into her cabin and plopped down on her bunk, kicking her feet up and letting her head slam into her pillow. After a few moments of laying perfectly still, she flipped out of her bunk and onto the floor, pulling out a stack of sheet music and a pen. Then, she pulled out a few french poem books of hers and scattered them next to her on the bed.
"I need to write something..." She muttered, and titled the music "Je suis ce que je suis," which translated into "I am what I am", in French. She started flipping through the french poem books until the words started flowing from her mind to her hand, which scratched in the words she wanted to hear. She grinned as she did so, because well, Zoe loved music. It held a special place for her in her heart and soul, besides the fact that her dad was the god of music.
"Pourquoi tu me regardes différemment? Isnt 'ol même «Le même vieux assez pour moi, et ne prenez pas cela personnellement hun. Je tiens à se démarquer, d'être moi. Prenez-moi pour qui je suis, ou en sortir," She wrote down quickly in thin, sprawled hand-writing. Sadly, she had to translate the French again to Greek so she didnt screw up while writing it or reading it. So it ended up looking like this: "Γιατί με κοιτάς με διαφορετικό τρόπο; Είναι η «ol ίδιο« δεν είναι το ίδιο αρκετά μεγάλος για μένα, και μην το πάρετε προσωπικά hun. Θέλω να ξεχωρίζουν, για μένα είναι. Πάρτε εμένα για αυτό που είμαι, είτε να εγκαταλείψουν."
But it worked, so she used it. Mentally translating it, she wrote on for a while.
"I need to write something..." She muttered, and titled the music "Je suis ce que je suis," which translated into "I am what I am", in French. She started flipping through the french poem books until the words started flowing from her mind to her hand, which scratched in the words she wanted to hear. She grinned as she did so, because well, Zoe loved music. It held a special place for her in her heart and soul, besides the fact that her dad was the god of music.
"Pourquoi tu me regardes différemment? Isnt 'ol même «Le même vieux assez pour moi, et ne prenez pas cela personnellement hun. Je tiens à se démarquer, d'être moi. Prenez-moi pour qui je suis, ou en sortir," She wrote down quickly in thin, sprawled hand-writing. Sadly, she had to translate the French again to Greek so she didnt screw up while writing it or reading it. So it ended up looking like this: "Γιατί με κοιτάς με διαφορετικό τρόπο; Είναι η «ol ίδιο« δεν είναι το ίδιο αρκετά μεγάλος για μένα, και μην το πάρετε προσωπικά hun. Θέλω να ξεχωρίζουν, για μένα είναι. Πάρτε εμένα για αυτό που είμαι, είτε να εγκαταλείψουν."
But it worked, so she used it. Mentally translating it, she wrote on for a while.
"Live as if you'll die tomorrow, because its always a possibility."
dαυgнтεя σғ αρσℓℓσ
{{OOC: ---}}
