I almost didn't say this, but FUCK the way some ghost of a memory can just reach out and GRAB you. Like a tendril from some forgotten swamp, tightening around your throat. I thought I was past this, past that visceral FLINCH. But it's just there, a low, buzzing menace behind my eyes, proving some things just burrow deep and wait for the precise fucking moment to remind you how thoroughly you were twisted.