SANCTUARY OF GHOST USERS

The matrix has you, and it's running Windows 95.

Sleep walkers gather here nightly.

Night transmissions carry further.

Buffering... buffering... enlightenment.

The recycle bin is never truly empty.

The heat warps the transmission.

Summer static fills the airways.

The frequency remembers you.

The darkness between pixels speaks.

The matrix has you, and it's running Windows 95.

Your presence here was foretold in the static.