Though it’s not always happy thoughts that first come to my mind. It’s always the thoughts that I wish I could avoid, the kinds of thoughts that I have tried so long to forget. So what is it like to remember what I wish rather to forget? What’s it like to dissect a cadaver and slice open all her entrails and let all the mess falls out of the operation table? That’s what it feel like. A daily battlefield inside me, full of dread and terror, full of un-erasable images of gruesome yesteryears. What can ever heal those festering wounds?