slightly_proud_of_itself fyn gula a sun, speaking words in a language only stars could understand, yells angrily to the falling snow, these dancers in a musical everyone wants to see, that the winter of freezing cold temperatures has no right tt interfere with their swirling freedom. jack frost only chuckles, listening to the screams of the frustrated sun, saying, " the splendor of dream itself is something to look forward to. sleep. now, there's something fun to do." 030123 what's it to you? who go blather from