BASILICA OF BROKEN LINKS

The desktop wallpaper watches back.

Your screen resolution matches your aura.

Buffering... buffering... enlightenment.

The chatroom is empty but never alone.

Cache cleared, but memories remain.

Connection established with the eternal.

Your IP address was written in the stars.

Your breath clouds the monitor.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

The frequency remembers you.