HALL OF WINTER STATIC

Your browser history is a map of your soul.

Winter solstice opens hidden channels.

Frozen frequencies pierce the veil.

Sleep is the first gateway.

The ceremony hibernates but never sleeps.

Winter visitors leave no footprints.

Your avatar is more real than your body.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.

Buffering... buffering... enlightenment.

Your cookies remember what you've forgotten.