Lanvin likes to get out of the way.

“It’s not about growth. It is about excavation.”

“He doesn’t want to grow.”

“It’s never growth. Why is it growth? It is ignorance.”

“You are born excetra.”

And growth or expansion to what? It is excavation or your murky interpretation without it. I come undone as I think about myself through him sounding like a idiot. I get near him and I start buffering. He doesn’t know what to say to his boss, his car was broken into, his family is making demands. He shows up with this ill-advised self; trying to think— impelled by the future, using thoughts that are dripping with a preoccupation with the past.”

“Sounds intellectually backwards on paper.”

“It is a lot of work. A lot of interference. I want to castigate, but it’s a trick. I have to just observe and I save myself. I have to be a passerby. Besides like I know what I’m talking about; there has been plenty of times my high handedness has made me sound like a dolt. Or you 100 percent of the time.”

“I know the steaks not real, but”

”Hoodwinked into thinking I can grow. I’d rather do as I’m told— which is nothing all of time, and something gets clearer.”

“Well I don’t like the hard work.”

“Same thing.”

“So you say.”

“I’d rather get out of the way.”