Some songs and lyrics produce a state of happy dreaminess in me. I am listening to one now. Imogen Heap is telling me "Such boundless pleasure, We've no time for later now".
I like this now. I like this minute, this passing second and it laughs at me as it slips out of my overeager grasp. I am so alive. Everything in me is awake, looking out of the windows watching me take them on this journey.

Am I so absorbed in my self that I am losing the sympathy to be in another skin. I liked doing that, I tried the other day. But I just found my maiden-aunt attitude coming on, disapproval of the new skin's actions. I miserably slipped back into mine.

Oh come off it. Do you really care right now? No, no, no. Nothing in me cares. I am not dead yet.

And if it comes to the worst I'll take Ms Heap's word for it. There's beauty in the breakdown.