Future Patient next World

His world took on the shape of a dormitory, a barracks, a double
occupancy hospital room and finally a small cluttered apartment
overlooking an empty plaza bordered by ancient and abandoned
factories. Leaning out of the window attempting to fathom a breeze
he began a conversation with an imaginary poster of the movie-star
Marilyn Monroe.

"So what happened to you?" he asked the mental poster. "I only know
you from your celluloid trail which is now digital. I mean we've not
spoken before. I guess I never paid much attention, though possibly
transferred an errant thought; --that evocative thing of yours that
was perceived by much of the planet-- to this girl I vaguely knew in
high school. But enough about my selfish ambivalence... Tell me, was
President Kennedy really going to get out of Vietnam after he
escalated its importance? Never-mind; ' can't say as I really need to
know. So, tell me exactly what is that thing of yours. I can sense it;
but what is it?"

He closed his eyes to perceive the answer and felt a breeze over his
ears. He heard that soft cooing voice; talent and anti-talent; both real
and a self-caricature. "President -- Kennedy -- was -- very --
concerned."

"I believe it," he addressed his principal audience. Good men, bad
men, stupid men, another million dead. And? "What do we know
about life in this Universe? Is the total value of consciousness:
knowledge (or self-deception), greed and fear?"

The answer this time had no cooing to it. He heard it inside himself,
"Oh yes, love." He nodded his head. "But that can be selfish too, even
when it's real."

There was nothing moving above or below. He made a decision. "I
think it's time to start up the crazy-machine and do some traveling.
Time is short."