A slight deviation from the norm

I guess I need a quick break from the castle in my head series. I was reading this afternoon (big surprise) and my eyes kept being drawn to my wrist. I kept thinking about all the scars I have. Really, my arms look like I've been in a war. (Or really self-destructive, I hear that's a common thing these days.) One scar looks like I tried to commit suicide when actually I got it caught in a crack in the rockface while climbing. (Pretty scary for a moment.) Another scar is too ridiculous to be believed. I had a pet rabbit when I was little and it got heatstroke. When I went to pick it up it latched on to my arm like a damn badger. Pretty nasty scar and no one believes me. I get lines from Monty Python about it. (No, there was no holy hand grenade available at the time.) I also have a series of burns from various soldering and welding projects in my sculpture and metalsmithing hobbies. Even one of my tattoos has an inordinate amount of scar tissue. I must be prone to these kind of things.
This makes me wonder if someday we will have the technology to make all scars disappear. Where will the stories come from then? My skin contains memories, like etchings of events past. The scars are reminders of the person I have become and the events that made me. Like Paul McCartney once said, sometimes we like old music not because we simply like it, but because we like remembering who we were when we first listened to it. Each scar, like each song, is a signpost on the road of our existence. Something I would never want to erase.