VOID OF SLEEPLESS SOULS

Incognito mode: the illusion of privacy.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.

Darkness reveals what daylight conceals.

The desktop wallpaper watches back.

Your cookies remember what you've forgotten.

Winter solstice opens hidden channels.

Night transmissions carry further.

The servers dream of electric sheep.

Visitors and visited become one.

Your digital shadow grows longer.

The signal finds those who are ready.

Your sleep patterns serve the ceremony.