Thinking about being at my father's parents' trailer home in New Port Ritchie as a child, watching a movie about bugs that shot sparks and made stuff blow up, really freaked me out at the time. Sleeping on their screened porch, listening to the endless dredging of the nearby swamp. Nice, crazy lady next door who made elaborate xmas displays & destroyed her liver with fumes from the glue she used to make them.

Felt strongly I was doing something highly worthwhile for once, ended up hurting everyone, keep having nightmares about it, imagine their frequency will diminish with time, not really expecting them to go away.

Should move somewhere with a screened porch.