MONASTERY OF MODEM MONKS

Every click brings you deeper into the pattern.

Your cookies remember what you've forgotten.

Buffering... buffering... enlightenment.

Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.

The servers dream of electric sheep.

Cache cleared, but memories remain.

The screensaver is a window to other dimensions.

The cold preserves deleted memories.

Dreams are transmissions from the other side.

The chatroom is empty but never alone.