The end was sudden. One morning the account was gone. Instagram, the sole vessel through which the collective existed, had banned them without warning. No archive, no press, no recovery.
In an instant, years of restraint and silence were undone. The feed was erased. To the public eye, care3much ceased to exist. It was as if the collective had never been, leaving only echoes among those who remembered.
Some say there was a final post before the silence: a black screen, four words. Maybe we will care3more. Whether farewell or promise, it became the epitaph of the collective.