Yes, it's that one lyric from "42&6" song by Tool.
So, why do we have this pleasure some times to scratch old wounds, especially those sort of wounds that never got a closure. I'm talking about those wounds, things that happened or done to us that as much they seem to get a scab, thin or thick, doesn't matter, they never heal. They remain like long, sometimes bleeding, scratches on the skin of our souls. Yes, soul can have skin.
We let them there, these wounds, trying as much as to forget about them, lying to ourselves, persuading ourselves not to feel the pain anymore. Yet, in spite of all this effort of trying to overcome them, to ignore pain and consequences, sometimes we start scratching them and picking the scabs. Are we still hoping for a solution, for a closure? Are we doing that, going back there, in hope of finding the said solution, hoping that finally they would start to heal for real? This is what for are we re-living the pain and all those (horrible) memories, for that solution, or is only mere masochism?
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