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This is a performance done during my artist talks. One person transcribes my speech, and at the end of the talk, this text is read aloud.

{ a man...several years ago...honored me with his literary confidence. he came to me lamenting that he was to such a degree overwhelmed by the fullness of ideas that it was impossible for him to put anything down on paper, because he could not write fast enough. he begged me to be his secretary and write at his dictation. I at once smelled a rat and promptly consoled him with the assurance that I could write as fast as a runaway horse, since I only wrote a letter of each word and yet guaranteed that I could read everything I had written. My willingness to be of service knew no bounds. I had a big table brought out, numbered many sheets of paper, in order that I might not even waste time in turning a page, laid out a dozen steel pens with their holders, dipped my pen- and the man began his address as follows: "Well, yes, you see, my dear Sir, what I really wanted to say was..." When he was through with the address I read it aloud to him, and from that time he has never asked me to be his secretary. }
- Kierkegaard, Repetition

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