Double Vision

The corners of the eyes hade become open ground for apparitions. Figures emergerd out of empty rooms and turned back into hanging linens, furniture, a shelf on the wall. One morning he wakes up, fully alert, hallucinating his wifes voice beside him asking ‘so how’s it going at work?’ He knows shes asleep and not talking but he hears it anyway. A week later he’ll read a dialogue between a psych and his woman patient, fiction, but more real than the nonfiction attempts at the same subject: all of human existence, all of lifes meaning. The thesis seems to be that figuring out the meaning is meaningless, that continued human existence is contingent on ignoring our deepest truest knowledge. But for God he might’ve felt morose at its conclusion, whatever God is.