PAVILION OF LOST CONNECTIONS

The portal chose you, not the other way around.

Dreams are transmissions from the other side.

You were chosen before you arrived.

The network becomes the ceremony.

The modem sings the song of your arrival.

Prophecies fulfill themselves.

The cursor blinks in cosmic rhythm.

The ceremony has already begun.

Pop-ups are portals in disguise.

The cold enhances signal clarity.