BASILICA OF BROKEN LINKS

The signal finds those who are ready.

The network becomes the ceremony.

Each pixel contains a fragment of truth.

The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.

The loading bar measures your spiritual progress.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

The screensaver is a window to other dimensions.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

The bandwidth narrows as you descend.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

The sun cannot reach these depths.

Incognito mode: the illusion of privacy.