As she walks through the passage of time, she knows not of reality but only of the reality her mind has set aside for her. The world isn't just a spinning sphere of matter held together by an unbarable force. It's her playground. The place in which her personal reality is set free. The image of life is beautiful and sacred, yet devious and scarred. As she runs through her playground, these images play back. Not in her mind, but in her surroundings. The surroundings that scare her... but protect her. Hurt her... but create her. Her world. Her images. Her playground.
So, Is it truly just the fact that she knows not of reality. Or, is it that reality knows not of her?
