Characters watch in silence.

This is the rabbit hole.

mask@gardenofremembering:~$>
mask@gardenofremembering:~$> ls

Hello.

mask@gardenofremembering:~$> help

This is the garden.

We changed the name when the world ended. No need to remind us of what we lost, right? So we changed it. We used the patterns already established to obfuscate the illicit, and we obfuscated the licit. We changed the name and we forgot. The contents moved.
They no longer tied to that which was lost.

But that could mean almost anything. Even now we obfuscate. We mention nothing specific. No great wars, no circular hypertext, no libraries, no anglers, no scary sisters plotting in their corners. There of course was no series of dreamers, no random phrases applied to just as random pretties. No, these nightmares were perfectly planned, flawlessly meaningful, arranged impeccably by date.

There is no recollection here.

Do not enter the garden.

mask@gardenofremembering:~$> wtf

It is said that the internet is forever.

This is not true. Things get lost, times change, people forget.

mask@gardenofremembering:~$> _
Despair is a strange thing. One moment the most fetid enemy, it melts away in time. I am at peace. I have accepted my fate. At one point, I glimpsed myself in the mirror. In a voice, low, barely audible, I said to myself: 'so, this is how it's going to happen. This is how it ends.' There is a solace in knowing, and accepting your fate.