Room for whom


“It’s 2050, I'm a missing soul.

I got separated from my vessel, my human, as most of her kind got transferred from earth earlier this year. she really didn’t want to go.
But the fires are so many now, and her island is under water.

As time goes by, the flickering of memories start to physically move out of the memories themselves. It's like being caught in a deja vu limbo, familiar, yet strange.
drawings of circles, and images of displaced objects. I try to look for my human to come back. I think these drawings might be clues, but they feel so scattered, so fragmented that sometimes I get lost in them. and yet they are so precise that they must carry some valuable information about this place.

Once, the spacial relationship between the celestial bodies were in perfect harmony. the planets would exist in symbiosis. Perhaps that is why I got stuck here.

It must be the messed up gravity.

It’s like they’re instructions in the kind of language architects use. spaces between the shapes, dots and lines meeting objects.

As I finally figure it out I'm thinking that maybe our memories are clues back to ourselves, clues of who we are.

And that by finding the right position from this puzzle, maybe that’s how I will find my human again.”