Memory has a way of returning, when we least expect it. Not as something distant, but as something alive, suddenly present, almost tangible. It takes us back to places that no longer exist, yet remain perfectly intact within us. Like a childhood home, hidden in the heart of a meadow, unchanged in our minds, even if it has now disappeared in reality.
Clori is this return. A moment where past and present meet without friction, without distance. When a memory becomes so vivid that reality itself seems to lose consistency.
It's a feeling of movement, like running in an open, infinite space. An absolute lightness, total freedom, being completely immersed in the moment, free from any rules. It's not simply remembering, but reliving. Not in dreams, but in reality.
As long as memories remain with us, the places they hold never truly disappear. It's as if an entire universe exists within the confines of our minds, a universe that begins and ends with us.
Clori is not nostalgia. It is memory becoming present again.
Clori is the world, as we remember it.