day 36501

It has taken a century for Pessoa and I to meet.

Pessoa and I, with one another, along with those that came before and in between.

When I think of Pessoa, I think of proper names; biblical names that were changed with a performative. I think of Jacob then Israel. I think of Simon and Peter. I think of Saul and Paul.
I think of Alvin and my relation to him. I think of Pessoa and how inseparable we are ever since this belated meeting.

I do not know why it took so long for us to finally meet. And this inquiry into the heart of the matter will continue on for as long as it takes to find an answer. The inquiry will resurface at any random opportunity. I have no way of knowing when and how. He would not know as well.

Or perhaps, he knew.

If you are capable of knowing what the answer is, please send an early reply back.
We would like to know.

I think,

Alvin is the second best joke of Alvin.
(Pessoa is the best joke of Alvin.)

We will do well as friends. As long as we don't start writing letters to each other to declare our death wills.

We end up with an amalgam of proper names, dying and being born every century.

It's frankly very tiring to read us.

But I shall not be foolish to think I can become as important as Pessoa.

I preceded Pessoa.

Pessoa superceded me.

(Kierkegaard learns from Plato.)
And we will do well to acknowledge the signatures we signed on our own tombs. Then the distractions are complete. And we can don't bother with our names.

"The multiplicationof the (We) is a frequent phenomenon in cases of homosexual masturbation."

In that case, it's better to be alone. Even when we can never be alone.
Nancy will be there to warn us not to.
So our ultimatum to ourselves is that:
there will always be a post-us
that will haunt us.
So why bother?

It has taken a century for Pessoa to meet me.
And it will take another century for I to find us.

Goodbye Alvin.

Yours,
Alvina.