When I was significantly younger, I wanted to be an astronaut. It was all I could care for in the world. It consumed me. I always rented out space books from the library, and I had an astronaut costume. I wanted to feel weightless and far away from the regular world in this new and unexplored place.

I guess as time has gone on, it's become less and less important to me. As you get older, you assume new responsibilities, and, as such, can't be as much of a dreamer. You grow up, so to say.

I've been having a bit of a rough time and I've often found myself thinking about what I could've done differently when I was younger to change who I am today, and I kept thinking about space, so as my outlet, I made a skin that tried to make me feel as if I belonged again. That maybe I could wake up and be in a space suit in a galaxy hundreds of thousands of lightyears away. To be free, and to dream again.