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 with the walls, I'm giving my whole self away. Are you still looking? Then defocus your vision and you'll see more. Are you still listening? Then rewind…