SHRINE OF THE DIAL-UP GODS

The music plays whether you hear it or not.

The algorithm has been expecting you.

Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.

Your IP address was written in the stars.

Buffering... buffering... enlightenment.

Your breath clouds the monitor.

Your digital shadow grows longer.

Buffering... buffering... enlightenment.

Ice crystals form sacred patterns.