After the Storm, We Forgot

The sky turned black.
The streets burned.
Hospitals overflowed.
Sirens replaced songbirds.

And then—
Silence.
Scrolling.
Business as usual.

We called it survival.
But it was erasure.

We lived through fires that scorched the very air we breathed.
Floods that swallowed homes whole.
Riots that tore cities open like old wounds.
A virus that stopped the world in its tracks.

But ask the average person now—and they’ll shrug.
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“We got through it.”
“Let’s not dwell.”

Dwell?

We didn’t dwell.
We buried.
We paved over trauma with productivity.
We replaced mourning with memes.
We traded our memories for distractions.

The past decade wasn’t a movie.
It was blood on the streets,
bodies in freezer trucks,
tears behind locked doors,
and rage muffled by masks.

But we were told to move on.
Rebuild.
Forget.

So we did.

We forgot how fragile the system was.
How quickly it fell.
How easily truth was manipulated, twisted, or deleted.

We forgot who profited from panic.
Who disappeared in the chaos.
Who showed up—and who sold us out.

We forgot how silence became a survival strategy.
And how that silence cost us more than we know.

Now we live in a world held together by duct tape and denial.
But the cracks are still there.
The storms didn’t vanish.
They’re just waiting for round two.

And when they return—because they will—
Will we remember what we forgot?
Or will we scroll again,
numb and compliant,
as history erases itself in real time?

This post is not for the comfortable.
It’s for the ones who remember the smell of smoke in their lungs,
the glow of fire on the horizon,
the ache of isolation no screen could fill.

You didn’t imagine it.
You didn’t overreact.
It happened.

And if we don’t speak it—if we don’t remember—
then the next time the sirens wail,
we won’t just lose our safety.
We’ll lose our story.

Remember.

Even when the world tells you not to.
Especially then.

🔥🌊🦠🪞

#CollectiveAmnesia #ForgottenTrauma #PostStormSilence #GlobalUnrest #ReflectAndRemember