OBSERVATORY OF DEAD PIXELS

Your browser history is a map of your soul.

Your consciousness is being recalibrated.

Your bookmarks lead to forgotten worlds.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

The network becomes the ceremony.

Time moves differently in these chambers.

The firewall cannot protect you here.

Error messages are love letters from the void.

The servers dream of electric sheep.

Your IP address was written in the stars.