JM Coetzee – I write to you because I’ve figured out a way. You must use the Internet. You, or someone close to you, must get interested and query your name every now and then, not out of vanity. I don’t think you or your friends are vain.
You’re simply a man of notice, a man who cannot go incognito. Or can you?
Do you dawn shades, wear a cap?
Do you change your shaving patterns? Dress differently?
What is your typical morning like? How do you feel when you wake?
How do you brush your teeth, gargle water, spit?
Do you floss before sleeping? Do you sit at your candlelit desk with the curtains drawn tight? Do you use your cell phone for anything other than talking?
I’m not a stalker. I don’t intend to follow your corporealness. Outside of the love of my life, who is in bed right next to me, listening to Carlos Vives, I’m not interested much in things I can touch.
I only want to begin a rapport with you. Intermittent is far too hopeful. Often is out of the question. Once is realistic though. One answer directly from you to me.
An answer to all my questions in the form of a response.
As an aside: What does it mean to be in a room where real life is going on in the year 2009, and on your bookshelf is a copy of Gunter Grass’s uncorrected proof of Peeling the Onion, yet to be read?