seeing the worst fucking take of my life, gritting my teeth and shaking head to toe: i must not reply. replies are the peace-killer. replies are the little deaths that bring total obliteration. i will face my urge to reply. i will permit it to pass over and through me. and when it has gone past, i will turn to the inner eye to see its path. when the urge to reply has gone, there will be nothing. only i will remain.