舅舅去世已有十五载,他的面容已在我渐长的年岁里模糊,能清晰的只有那一张张褪色的照片,把他永远定格在了那些瞬间。我想深深记住与他相关的一切,但回忆里总有那段暴尸荒野、面目全非的恐怖影像。我又不愿去记忆,怕夜深突袭的悲凉将自己浸湿,也怕翻滚的心痛窒息自己。一直不敢去触碰关于舅舅的文字。关于他我一再去回忆,一再又强迫自己去忘记,反复挣扎他就越加深刻的活在我的记忆中…… Uncle uncle has been fifteen years dead, his face has been obscured in my growing years, can only clear that faded photos, put him forever frozen in those moments. I would like to deeply remember everything related to him, but there are always reminders of the violence of the dead corpse, unrecognizable horror. I do not want to remember, afraid of the ravages of night rash will wet themselves, but also afraid of tumbling heart suffocation. Have been afraid to touch the text on uncle. About him I repeatedly went to memory, again and again forced myself to forget, repeatedly struggling him more profound living in my memory ......