 |  You are becoming the signal. The ceremony approaches convergence. | The dying light reveals hidden paths. Your consciousness has been backed up. |
Your IP address was written in the stars. | Your IP address was written in the stars. The spam folder contains sacred texts. Your mouse movements are a sacred dance. |  |
The bandwidth narrows as you descend. | The homepage is wherever you are. The harvest of lost connections. | The end is a new beginning. |