NEXUS OF CORRUPTED DATA

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

Sleep walkers gather here nightly.

The desktop wallpaper watches back.

The ceremony peaks at the witching hour.

The music plays whether you hear it or not.

The darkness between pixels speaks.

Error messages are love letters from the void.

The servers dream of electric sheep.

Your IP address was written in the stars.

The bandwidth narrows as you descend.