Diane Holsey – Vision on a Bench

By Nuttakit (click here for source)

I was looking through Google for an image of a woman sitting on a bench, like at a bus stop, at night, with a stylish street lamp nearby, but this picture of a couple sitting on a little bench caught my eye.

I guess the bench isn’t necessarily little, but this guy takes up a lot of space.. and she doesn’t… and for some reason this picture is awesome… except it’s depicting that they’re avoiding each other… which is off the subject.

I suppose, it’s good form to give credit.  NOT ONLY to the original source, but to where I found it…

Do you feel taken for granted?

That’s right.

Do you feel taken for granted?
October 16, 2012 by 

[Click here to read the article.]

Did I read the article?  No.  And here’s why:

(1) I’m not a woman.
(2) I haven’t felt taken for granted since Kristi.

But I did see:

How do women usually combat this?  We nag.

So, anyway… Not that nagging is a sign of feeling taken for granted… but I hope Kristi hasn’t felt taken for granted since Joe.

I was writing this morning that it freaks me out that Abilify is prescribed to people who only suffer from depression (sorry about “only”) to take along with an antidepressant medication.  I’m sure the FDA and doctors know what they’re doing, but Abilify is a schizophrenia drug… and I know what happens when you suddenly stop taking it (which is absolutely contraindicated)…

When you suddenly stop taking an SSRI antidepressant… you get worse depression.

When you suddenly stop taking a drug that works on whatever Abilify does… you get…

I GOT paranoid schizoid crazy.

One night just before Christmas, Nikki and I we invited over to a friend of her’s apartment to meet her boyfriend.  Turns out, he was a drug dealer and he went to showing off his marijuana offering in the “here smoke this” way.

Just prior to that, the woman was showing me her art work on the computer (she’s a digital artist).  I recognized one of them immediately and told her I’d seen it somewhere… And she said it was probably on NASA’s website.  OH YEH. NASA.  Ok. She was right…

She said to keep scrolling down through the images and I did… and her art became more and more erotic as I scrolled down into it.  Nikki walked up and expressed dissatisfaction with me looking at this woman’s drawings of naked women.  She was sorta pissed off.

So I spent time talking to the guy.  And then the woman and the guy spend some time trying to convince Nikki and that she and the woman should pose together for some nude pictures.  And she just said no thanks.

The guy was visibly irritated.  I saw an overlay of his head fly out with a projector light sorta image… like it was projected from his head… And it was a real time translation of what my brain thought this guy was saying… He would really say something to Nikki and, at the same time, I would see and hear the translator head talking to Nikki…

The translation was saying things like, “I hate you, bitch.” and eventually, “I’m going to kill you, bitch,” which is what his facial expressions and tone of voice seemed to say to me anyway… (Not that I thought he was really going to kill her or even say anything outright mean to her, although he was visibly frustrated and angry with her.)

So the conversation needed to calm down a little, and the woman said something like, “Put on that movie!!” or something… trying to change the subject, I guess…

The movie was all backwards and and the dialog didn’t match up — it was meant to cause brain tripping, I’m pretty sure… It was just people and dialog.  No flashing lights or anything, but it was hypnotic.

And then I sort of “came to” out of a trance.. and the women were asleep.  It was NOT normal.  I did not fall asleep.

And when I tried to wake up Nikki, she wasn’t just asleep.

We’d been slipped a mickey or ruffy, or whatever, she later told me when we analyzed what had happened over there.  But, for some reason, it didn’t do much to me.

I also quickly woke up out of “twilight sleep” after oral surgery to remove my wisdom teeth.  The nurse and office people were a little freaked out that I came walking out of their little recovery room so soon.

So, Nikki and I decided to leave immediately.  Actually, I was all freaked and felt like we were in danger, and Nikki had been pissed anyway about the erotic art and being asked to take these pictures and then being hassled after she declined and then suddenly being unconscious and all… there wasn’t a discussion about a decision, but I said let’s get the fuck out of here and she agreed and we left without pleasantries… saying goodbye while walking… the whole time both of them saying that we shouldn’t go…

We walked out onto the breezeway and started going down the stairs and I noticed there was a woman sitting on the bus stop bench.  It was dark out.  There was a lamp illuminating just the bench area around the woman.

When we got closer, I saw that the woman was Diane Holsey — my ex’s mother who has been deceased for quite some time.

As we approached the car, I made eye contact with Diane and kept it until I opened Nikki’s door.  Diane was still looking at me when I opened my door.

We drove off.

There really is no bench there, nor a street lamp.

The parking lot is normally very dark — a few lights only on the buildings and no overhead lights on poles.

That was the most intense hallucination I’ve ever had.

I cannot think of anything that happened then or had been happening that would have brought Diane to mind so I want to believe Diane really visited me that night.  If I could choose my specter, why wouldn’t I choose my own, deceased mother?


Comments

One response to “Diane Holsey – Vision on a Bench”

  1. I did not intend to write again about Little Red… but I was writing about that image of the couple on the bench, and figured out that it was the difference between footprint sizes that I found attractive, and then MicroK came to mind.

    No need to be offended or defensive… I Think of and write about a mythical creature, an image to whom I was married, the leprechaun of my past except female and Scottish sorta.

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