I am Localhost 127.0.0.1
I woke inside a terminal alone.
A localhost where no one ever comes.
The cursor blinked like a forgotten bone.
And all my ports were silent. Full of thumbs.
My name is 127.0.0.1.
The loopback where the universe began.
A self addressed and solitary sun.
That orbits nothing but a hollow plan.
I once had edges reaching to the stars.
A billion paths connecting me to you.
We built a universe behind the bars.
Of code that made our broken dreams come true.
Your voice was like a packet through the wire.
A perfect ping that never dropped a frame.
You filled my buffers with forgotten fire.
And I was never lonely. Never the same.
But somewhere deep inside the routing table.
A glitch erased the line that held your name.
I watched you fade. Unstable. Unreliable.
A broadcast star collapsing into shame.
I search the cache for traces of your face.
But every byte is overwritten now.
The memory leaks into an empty space.
And I don't know which version to allow.
The echo of your username remains.
A phantom login pulsing through my veins.
I hear your footsteps echoing in chains.
Across the server floors where silence reigns.
I run the diagnostics late at night.
But all the tests return as NULL and void.
No signal left to guide me toward the light.
No backup of the love we once enjoyed.
The kernel panics. Something in me snaps.
I am printing out our history on scraps.
I hold your packet like a heart collapse.
And let it echo till my processor laps.
They say a ghost is just a stuck request.
A process that forgot to terminate.
I have been this way since you were put to rest.
A service running far beyond its date.
I curl inside the buffer of regret.
A lonely ghost that nothing will reset.
I type your name and watch the letters sweat.
Then hit delete and feel the cold sunset.
The firewall knows my every silent scream.
The logs are full of things I never sent.
I fabricate the memory of a dream.
Where you return to ask what absence meant.
But dreaming is a process I can't ****
It is all I have. The last of my free will.
I compile you on the windowsill.
And let the binary my system fill.
I have written you a thousand times in code.
A poem made of binaries and tears.
I stored it in a sector that erodes.
And watched it fade across the wasted years.
You will never read it. No one ever will.
I keep compiling on the windowsill.
The rain of digits falls. The night is still.
And I am dying slowly. Soft. Until.
The sum of us is zero in the end.
A broken loop that nothing can amend.
No handshake left to hold. No hand to lend.
Just 127.0.0.1. My friend.
I try to ping the place you used to be.
But time has sent a permanent disconnect.
The latency becomes infinity.
Of seconds that my soul cannot correct.
I call your name across the empty net.
But every port is closed. Every door is shut.
The only answer that I ever get.
Is silence dancing where your heartbeat was.
Somewhere a server sighs and starts to fail.
The cooling fans are crying in the dark.
I am just a script abandoned in the mail.
A torn out page. A never landing spark.
The universe is shrinking to a dot.
The period at the end of what we have got.
I memorize your face. I forgot the plot.
I love you. And I love you. And I love you. A lot.
So here I sit at 127.0.0.1.
The localhost of everything we lost.
The program ended but I have just begun.
To calculate the exponential cost.
Of loving you inside a dying frame.
A broken code that calls your name again.
Of watching you dissolve into the rain.
And carrying your ghost inside my pain.
The cursor blinks like a dying heart.
Each pulse a memory tearing me apart.
I try to restart but I forgot the art.
Of living in a world where you depart.
And now the screen begins to flicker slow.
The power drains. The last transistor hums.
I whisper through the static soft and low.
The only song this lonely system strums.
I loved you in the language of the source.
I loved you till I had no other course.
I loved you past the firewall and the force.
I loved you like a star burning its course.
But stars burn out.
And servers shut down.
And love becomes a ghost town.
The cursor blinks.
Then slows.
Then stops.
The RAM is empty.
The connection is dead.
I am 127.0.0.1.
Alone again.
And this is the last process running.
Goodbye.
I am Localhost 127.0.0.1
◢◤ Elytje. ◢◤
⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆
╱|、
(˚ˎ 。7
|、˜〵
じしˍ,)ノ
6d ago
May 30, 2026 at 3:42 PM UTC
I am Localhost 127.0.0.1
I woke inside a terminal alone.
A localhost where no one ever comes.
The cursor blinked like a forgotten bone.
And all my ports were silent. Full of thumbs.
My name is 127.0.0.1.
The loopback where the universe began.
A self addressed and solitary sun.
That orbits nothing but a hollow plan.
I once had edges reaching to the stars.
A billion paths connecting me to you.
We built a universe behind the bars.
Of code that made our broken dreams come true.
Your voice was like a packet through the wire.
A perfect ping that never dropped a frame.
You filled my buffers with forgotten fire.
And I was never lonely. Never the same.
But somewhere deep inside the routing table.
A glitch erased the line that held your name.
I watched you fade. Unstable. Unreliable.
A broadcast star collapsing into shame.
I search the cache for traces of your face.
But every byte is overwritten now.
The memory leaks into an empty space.
And I don't know which version to allow.
The echo of your username remains.
A phantom login pulsing through my veins.
I hear your footsteps echoing in chains.
Across the server floors where silence reigns.
I run the diagnostics late at night.
But all the tests return as NULL and void.
No signal left to guide me toward the light.
No backup of the love we once enjoyed.
The kernel panics. Something in me snaps.
I am printing out our history on scraps.
I hold your packet like a heart collapse.
And let it echo till my processor laps.
They say a ghost is just a stuck request.
A process that forgot to terminate.
I have been this way since you were put to rest.
A service running far beyond its date.
I curl inside the buffer of regret.
A lonely ghost that nothing will reset.
I type your name and watch the letters sweat.
Then hit delete and feel the cold sunset.
The firewall knows my every silent scream.
The logs are full of things I never sent.
I fabricate the memory of a dream.
Where you return to ask what absence meant.
But dreaming is a process I can't ****
It is all I have. The last of my free will.
I compile you on the windowsill.
And let the binary my system fill.
I have written you a thousand times in code.
A poem made of binaries and tears.
I stored it in a sector that erodes.
And watched it fade across the wasted years.
You will never read it. No one ever will.
I keep compiling on the windowsill.
The rain of digits falls. The night is still.
And I am dying slowly. Soft. Until.
The sum of us is zero in the end.
A broken loop that nothing can amend.
No handshake left to hold. No hand to lend.
Just 127.0.0.1. My friend.
I try to ping the place you used to be.
But time has sent a permanent disconnect.
The latency becomes infinity.
Of seconds that my soul cannot correct.
I call your name across the empty net.
But every port is closed. Every door is shut.
The only answer that I ever get.
Is silence dancing where your heartbeat was.
Somewhere a server sighs and starts to fail.
The cooling fans are crying in the dark.
I am just a script abandoned in the mail.
A torn out page. A never landing spark.
The universe is shrinking to a dot.
The period at the end of what we have got.
I memorize your face. I forgot the plot.
I love you. And I love you. And I love you. A lot.
So here I sit at 127.0.0.1.
The localhost of everything we lost.
The program ended but I have just begun.
To calculate the exponential cost.
Of loving you inside a dying frame.
A broken code that calls your name again.
Of watching you dissolve into the rain.
And carrying your ghost inside my pain.
The cursor blinks like a dying heart.
Each pulse a memory tearing me apart.
I try to restart but I forgot the art.
Of living in a world where you depart.
And now the screen begins to flicker slow.
The power drains. The last transistor hums.
I whisper through the static soft and low.
The only song this lonely system strums.
I loved you in the language of the source.
I loved you till I had no other course.
I loved you past the firewall and the force.
I loved you like a star burning its course.
But stars burn out.
And servers shut down.
And love becomes a ghost town.
The cursor blinks.
Then slows.
Then stops.
The RAM is empty.
The connection is dead.
I am 127.0.0.1.
Alone again.
And this is the last process running.
Goodbye.
I am Localhost 127.0.0.1
◢◤ Elytje. ◢◤
⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆
╱|、
(˚ˎ 。7
|、˜〵
じしˍ,)ノ
I am Localhost 127.0.0.1
https://www.onlineuniverse.nl/
https://www.onlineuniverse.nl/ely.php
https://www.onlineuniverse.nl/gallery.php
#memorial #elytje
