In the film, remembrance, erasure of memory are also tapped for their political charge. Moving from the private to public, holding onto memories of vicious injustice and violence are defiant acts, pushing back regimes and authorities that seek to deny, wipe them from the records. Nat becomes weaponized, a mere plaything to be manipulated by the powerful. While alive, she had been unhappy, chafing at tensions produced by March’s family. She hadn’t been gladly accepted into its folds, viewed instead with antipathy and distaste. March’s extended family is spectacularly cold, dismissive and intolerant of his fixation with Nat’s ghost. Even after death, she has to struggle with earning a place, their trust and warmth. The film ventures into dream surveillance, with not even ghosts being spared—they’re used to further the agenda of the political elite, whitewash their historic sins. Workers remain milled under, their rights dismissed as fanciful. The specter of the 2010 Thai military crackdown drapes the film's gradual events. As Nat becomes absorbed in this project, she drifts far from who she used to be while she was alive. It’s only a matter of time before she too becomes just a wisp, disappearing into the thin air.