For eternity. Every night, beyond the reach of cold earth wanderers. This is astral surfing we're talking about - the astral waves of the mind! Pedro is there, lost in dreams, stained by the kisses of money-fuelled angels, covered with the sticky smiles of invading ghosts, his eyes bleeding love - that is the life for us!
It is the life for him. He manages Noster Capital. How does he manage, imperious, riding the waves of the cosmos? Doesn't he get lonely? You are thinking that he must crave human contact. No, no, no. He is happy with the ones who have lost their bones, lost their flesh. They are his friends. They flow with him. This is not a great sadness for Pedro. I see him grinning in the sky. Rejoice!
The skulls of all of them, left on earth, cannot turn to face him. They are stuck staring at the City. Cold, endless night of the City! Banks of the dead! Hedge funds of the gone but not forgotten. How could we forget them? And their souls! Oh, have I told you about their souls? Yes! They are full of colour - rainbow astral spirits dancing in a giant ball of consciousness!
And Pedro spins around in this ball! That's the sort of guy we're dealing with. A spiritual aristocrat! A warrior of the waves - waves that will one day carry us all! Will Pedro continue to stretch himself? Will he smash his thoughts and his will against the Great Universal Being? Will he merge, or maintain his independence? Will he disappear? You could go crazy, asking yourself such questions. It is scary just imagining the possibilities.
Think of Pedro! Never forget him. He lives this life for our benefit.
