not our nate.
Nathan sits on my back porch and sighs.
Nathan says that immortality is work. He says that when you understand, you cease to exist. Nathan smokes a joint and pops a couple of pills and proceeds to tell me that heaven is when everyone realizes that they're already there. He says that if you know how things happen, then you're just hanging out, but if you know why, then you're a servent of God. Immortality is a repeating number.
Nathan pauses for a drag of his cigarette, then tells me that time is nothing but an inane and fallacious construction of humans by which they attempt to understand and measure the experience they call 'life'. Any degree of falsity is still falsity.
He says whether or not any of this makes sense, it's still all a symbol of something real.
I tell him he's escaping the fact that he's pulling all of this out of his ass.
He ignores me.
He says it's all in 3/4 if you look at it holistically. It's all about serious enjoyment, and being immortal doesn't mean you can't die. God wants company for his party in the stars, and the light needs form, so we might as well bring our invitations.
Nathan's eyes begin to glaze and I sit, watching, smoking my cigarette, waiting for the next outburst of drug-induced semi-deep ramblings to flow from his numbing lips. It doesn't come in the torrent I expect. He simply says,
If you play a note high enough, it becomes a beam of light.
Finally something that makes sense.