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:~$> _
You remember places, smells, sounds, blurry faceless figures of people who were once a major part of your life but now might as well not have existed. A birthday party in a strange, colourful room. A vast, bewildering out-of-town supermarket on a rainy Saturday. A garden patio on a warm summer evening, more youthful versions of your relatives chatting amongst themselves, using words you can't understand. It's unlikely you can recall any specific events, and you probably can't place them in any sort of context, but you remember that they happened. You remember how you felt. You remember being there.