When I think of “Euphoria,” I think of neon lights, glitter smeared across bleary eyes, dizzying camera angles betraying the disoriented teenage mania that fuels it. I think of Rue (Zendaya) staring across a crowded room at Jules (Hunter Schaefer) with such palpable longing that it hurts. I think of the stunning last moments of the season finale, when Rue mourns Jules leaving her at a train station by relapsing and collapsing into a musical fever dream. I think of the last time we see her, when she’s dragged herself up a pile of writhing bodies only to throw herself off the cliff of them. By design, “Euphoria” is completely overwhelming, throwing too much all at once at its audience and daring it to blink.