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:~$> _
It's funny how such a disgustingly violent incident, a scene of utter chaos that the operators had to endure for close to a full day, and one that the parents will suffer through for the rest of their life, can be so systematically boiled down to a few default terms regurgitated over and over and over by the media, as though each and every incident can be treated with a simple copy/paste and change of the date. There is not a single word in that article that can even remotely convey the horror of that scene, nor frighten the average driver to keep two hands on the wheel and concentrate on the road.