It's A Poor Sort Of Memory That Only Works Backwards

The power went off shortly after my last entry and came back on early this evening. Our gratitude goes out to all the states that sent trucks and workers. We're all fine, our houses are fine, things in general are shaken and stirred but pretty much fine. But ... I don't know ... I guess this brought back some memories I wasn't expecting. And fun body dysphoria stuff too. I don't want to talk about it. Probably I just need a few days of solitary fear and loathing. A little while ago I did a painting I may never show to anybody. Or, hell, I may just sell the fucker so I'll never have to see it again. I don't know if it's any good or not, but it's icky and gives me a terrible feeling to look at.