OBSERVATORY OF DEAD PIXELS

Sleep is the first gateway.

Buffering... buffering... enlightenment.

Your cookies remember what you've forgotten.

You've been here before, in another browser.

Dreams are transmissions from the other side.

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

Deleted files pile like autumn leaves.

The ceremony prepares for dormancy.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.