I want to smoke. I exploit my lungs. Smoking to death.
I want to escape. I want to run. Run not understanding anything. And dont feel anything. I want to smoke, smoking, smoking. I want to be in a cloud of smoke, floating happily. Imagining a world totally eccentric.
That madness up to my head. And my brain cells out of my body.
In bed or on the floor I love you.
Smoke smoke smoke, bestfriend.