The Thorned Planet
Medium: Marker on paper.
Size: 12.5 × 14.5cm
Interstellar Vlog
Some planets aren’t in any cosmic atlas.
They live in the cracks between emotions,
in the fog of memory,
on the last unfinished page of a dream.
I’m not really from outer space.
I just passed by—
lingering on each little world,
quietly recording their textures, moods, and sounds.
One planet is covered in soft thorns.
Another drifts in sleep, never fully waking.
Some whisper through their plants,
others let frogs cast spells.
They didn’t really notice me—
but somehow, I left a trace.
These records aren’t here to explain,
but to remember—
that outside what we call “reality,”
there are strange and gentle places
that make me believe
we all might come from a planet that hasn’t been named yet.
Medium: Marker on paper.
Size: 12.5 × 14.5cm
Interstellar Vlog
Some planets aren’t in any cosmic atlas.
They live in the cracks between emotions,
in the fog of memory,
on the last unfinished page of a dream.
I’m not really from outer space.
I just passed by—
lingering on each little world,
quietly recording their textures, moods, and sounds.
One planet is covered in soft thorns.
Another drifts in sleep, never fully waking.
Some whisper through their plants,
others let frogs cast spells.
They didn’t really notice me—
but somehow, I left a trace.
These records aren’t here to explain,
but to remember—
that outside what we call “reality,”
there are strange and gentle places
that make me believe
we all might come from a planet that hasn’t been named yet.
Medium: Marker on paper.
Size: 12.5 × 14.5cm
Interstellar Vlog
Some planets aren’t in any cosmic atlas.
They live in the cracks between emotions,
in the fog of memory,
on the last unfinished page of a dream.
I’m not really from outer space.
I just passed by—
lingering on each little world,
quietly recording their textures, moods, and sounds.
One planet is covered in soft thorns.
Another drifts in sleep, never fully waking.
Some whisper through their plants,
others let frogs cast spells.
They didn’t really notice me—
but somehow, I left a trace.
These records aren’t here to explain,
but to remember—
that outside what we call “reality,”
there are strange and gentle places
that make me believe
we all might come from a planet that hasn’t been named yet.