Here I was, too, slipping through that soft, vodka-softened membrane, into a place where there was no pain, where the world was both real, and not … and yet, as I turned a corner, something else hit me that had never occurred to me before—death, fear of death, questions like “Why are we all here?” “What’s the meaning of all this?” “What’s the point?” “How do we all arrive at this?” “What are human beings?” “What is air?”
