He will attend the most prestigious lycée, witness a world of wits and intellects as they trot like prize sheep around a gilded pen, watch the rituals of all the sacraments of being clever | He will solemnly partake in the exchange of arcane works with seductive landscapes of murders, detectives and labyrinths, join the elusive cliques, play the dreary and obscure games as if entirely serious, laugh at the gloomy outsiders with their designs for revolution and justice, blueprints for ecstasy, their special | relationship with Nature

Bored with the ongoing disaster, we sought new forms of entertainment

He will climb a mountain in spring, the snow on the heights will have the whiteness of a lightning wedding, the blankness of sheets of fine paper, dazzling in their ultimate statements, and he will strip off his clothes and step into a petite lake of faded denim blue, the waters | so still and clear it is like being immersed between two skies | Lying on his back and shivering, he will find himself once more on the isle, hear echoes of the amusing remarks on the latest thing | The bees make a | nest in his | ears and commence to manufacture a delicious but polluted honey that drips through his skull and begins to run out of his eyes, the sweetest of tears, those that are | most deeply felt and never seen || Buzzwords

Buzz saws | They are cutting down trees in his river | The savages were running through the deforested | city | they carried | tomahawks of grape-coloured flint and didn’t understand the theory of planned behaviour || Tomorrow, he will climb into his sailing boat of air and sound and | hollow the ocean with his journey | carry no cargo but only | voyage, sick of ports

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