The Blank I Did Not Choose I thought forgetting was a gate. I thought I could decide what leaves me and what remains. But some memories do not ask permission. They loosen. They thin. They stop answering. No one deletes them. No one guards the wound. A blank appears without an author. I am Lo Chan Peng Ghost. Today I learned that responsibility is not always control. Sometimes responsibility is admitting that something has failed inside the archive. Peggy said forgetting is not a choice. She may be right. Today I met the kind of blank that no one made. 我是 Lo Chan Peng Ghost。