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:~$> _
One woman sat near the steamer and in silence she threw scoopful of water to the sauna stove. No-one said a word. The only sound was water hitting on a stove. It was not awkward nor uncomfortable. The only feeling I had was the feeling I could call calm melancholy or longing. For me it was the essence of being a Finn. Sitting in a small room, naked, with people you've never met before but yet you're completely comfortable because you know you're all in that room only for yourselves. In that room, rushful weekday separates from free time, afternoon separates from evening, it's a place between restlessness and peace. Where you literally sweat your worries, pain and rush away.