OBSERVATORY OF DEAD PIXELS

The matrix has you, and it's running Windows 95.

Time moves differently in these chambers.

The frequency remembers you.

The chatroom is empty but never alone.

Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.

The old world fades with each page.

The recycle bin is never truly empty.

Your digital shadow grows longer.

The homepage is wherever you are.

Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.