Friday, June 15, 2012

In which the first person is transferred


The end of Laurent is something I can not think. Under development still and original, he is not yet even the charac-ter he has been thought and is being thought to be, as he unfolds. I don't think he has exploited the chance, yet, to swallow his first tasting from his mug; if so, I haven't heard it.



I will like the end of betrayals which his development has entailed so far. I find that I cannot support his development and at the same time have in mind such feelings for myself as naturally draw one to the approval of others, or to his use to influence the opinion of others. If one could make clear, once, at a blog, any one thing which does not have to be repeated with every entry; if a blog could bear even this vital resemblance to a book, this consolation is the one which I would cut for myself and for Laurent's creation. An obvious approach would be, to recite a blog entry as a report from Laurent, and confine the first person prospectively to my own interventions, borrowing his space.


But red mug, blue linen is to be the chronicle of a figure who thinks as Laurent says he does in his profile, at the top of the page. One figure, not two; or shall we then have Laurent, commenting on this unidentified third party? I'm not sure I'd like Laurent to be distracted by him, even if it should be amusing to see. I find I do not have thoughts which interest me so much as Laurent's.




           The first person, therefore, 
           is Laurent's hereinafter at 
           this page. I am pleased to 
           possess this confidence.










  I am completely dazzled 
  by this picture. It is 
  cute and funny and very 
  much expresses how I 
  feel to have my own boat 
  at last. Everybody should
  have one, don't you 
  think?

  I know some guys will be
  worried about 'all that
  traffic.' Well, they'll
  need to learn to row.
















ii  Mathias Lauridsen