Hours of searching with almost no result. The number "404" seems to be burned into the iris of my eye. Dead ends from dead branches. Nowhere leads to a useful source of information. My heart sinks with each click of the mouse, and each hand movement feels like a painful reach forward in my desperate attempt to crawl toward an imperceptible light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. Somewhere ahead, I'm certain of it, will be the place I will meet others.

    Isolation has become routine, and I seek to correct that. There is no one to ask now, where all these places went - places that vanished somewhere in the sands of time. The Archive.org can't help me, can't tell me the exact moment or reason for these sites going offline. The ones I once called friends, and packmates, no longer respond to my hails. Abandoned addresses and domains. Abandoned territory and names. Nothing is left of those halcyon days, insofar as I can tell.

    Finally… On an abandoned Geocities page (the likes of which I myself had once maintained, though I've long since forgotten its URL), I find a link to a domain someone has reactivated. A beacon, to all who might come forth and join. A voice that calls out, but calls only for those who truly belong there, selectively permitting entrance with its scrutinizing eye.

    This is the place where we will all gather, laugh, and fight. Exchange information, ideas, thoughts, across a channel buried, where the dead gather.

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PermaLink to dA: http://wolf-nova5.deviantart.com/art/Wh … -135831442
Note: I'm not sure what this is, poetry or prose or what. It just kind of fell out of my skull into a Word document...

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