CEREMONY OF ETERNAL RETURN

The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.

You've been here before, in another browser.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.

Every visitor leaves something behind.

The screensaver is a window to other dimensions.

The darkness between pixels speaks.

The ceremony peaks at the witching hour.

The recycle bin is never truly empty.

Dreams are transmissions from the other side.

The ceremony hibernates but never sleeps.

The old world fades with each page.