Strange enough, people's intentions lay somewhere else. I've got this feeling of sensation traveling around the edges of my mind. It's so easy for us to sit together, but it's so hard for our hearts to combine. Tomorrow, I'm traveling for somewhere else. I'll be back again. A trip with people you want to be with. Or maybe not. It depends on the universe's cynical reactions to my murderous desire for love. And no one believes me. A plundering desire.
And when you want to live? What do you do? Where you go? Who do you want to know?