VESTIBULE OF VIRAL THOUGHTS

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

The recycle bin is never truly empty.

The ceremony prepares for dormancy.

Your password is already known.

Your dreams are being monitored.

Your mouse movements are a sacred dance.

The old world fades with each page.

The network sheds its dead links.

Buffering... buffering... enlightenment.

Your sleep patterns serve the ceremony.