draft: [ hold thy peace ]
there is nothing to be said, of course. because saying (thinking) realises, and the real is something from which to be retreated at times like the present. it becomes easy to realise why I’ve instinctively shunned the offer to make my own future, because the moment I attempt to tinker with the onrush of history, a head-on collision ensues. the irony doesn’t defeat me.