and here it comes again. the hysteria, the rush of feelings, thoughts I can't put in order, lack of mental equilibrium. what next? I can't figure anything out. I don't want. I just wanna lay on the floor, with the cigarette hanging from the corner of my mouth, with its smoke caressing indiferently my lips. I wanna touch, I wanna feel, I want it physical. I want you. Now. And I always will, even if strangers arms will hold me, I'll still long for yours.