I'm starting our snowfight. My snowball reflects the things that are precious to me in my life at the moment. People and numbers, people with their numbers, numbers that make people.
I throw this idea of an object to mademoiselle Tuska.
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"People and numbers, people with their numbers, numbers that make people."
Hallo! We are still here! People without number, men out of character, women crying for at least one, not a number. I used to be number six. I used to care. Numbers that do not care. And there you go, bloody numbers. the light is, and shall be, lovely.
Good Job! :)
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