She thinks:
Did I come into the world already with an emptiness inside or has it grown in me over time? How much effort do I make to fill it? Does it make any sense? Can an ordinary void turn into a black hole that will one day suck me into itself...?
***
You're all driving me crazy. Don't look at me!
Please pay attention to me. No, don't touch me!
I crave your touch...
Look at me, touch me, love me. It's oxygen for the egocentric. But it's so painful because it's like I have no skin....
***
Space is swirling, creating patterns that keep me awake... I'm starting to get the point. What if these sights and touches are my own illusion. What about me? Am I an illusion too?
I'm already merging...