David Star's Dilemma

“Do you know why you are here to see me, Mister David Star?”

What a dumb-ass question to ask me when we both know the Judge sent me here because of my kids. The parasites are worried that I'm going to waste all their inheritance because they think I'm hooked on DMT's. N-Dimethyltryptamine, a sweet psychedelic compound.

People using the drug often see insect-like beings from another universe. I figure, maybe if I use it, I'll get back to, or at least see again, the parallel World I was in when I was in my coma after my car crash two years ago.

I know, I know. People think being in a coma, means there is nothing going on inside the old brain. But they are wrong.

I saw myself, in a parallel world. I was still married, my rock band, Question Authority, was on top of the music charts once again, and my kids loved me over there.

I don't know how to explain it, but I knew I felt happy there. I was in control.

Now this idiot is going to ask me all kinds of questions, trying to make me see that I'm repressing my emotions, because I want to live in a dream I had when I was in my coma. Doesn't he think that I've been over this in my head a hundred times already? It was real. I felt it. I tasted it. I knew I could be at peace and at home there.

“Mister Star, you seem to be drifting off somewhere right now. Can you please answer my question?”

“Why am I here?”

“Yes.”

“Because my kids want to have me declared incompetent so they can take control of my estate.”

“Does that bother you, Mister Star?”

“I don't give a damn about the money. I just want to be happy again.”

“And why do you feel that you are so unhappy, Mister Star?”

Here we go. He is going to try to delve into my subconscious and tell me I was abused by my parents or something. If he would have read my profile from the Rolling Stone magazine 10 years ago, he would know that I grew up in a small, Midwestern town, with loving middle class parents, and I'm a college grad. Nothing there to show I've been abused.

“Mister Star, I must ask you to concentrate. I can't help you if don't concentrate and answer my questions.”

“You are going to help me?”

I had to chuckle after that. I know how this works. If I don't play his game by answering the questions the way he wants them to be answered, or act like I got in-touch with my feelings, he'll recommend conservatorship and I'll die a broke, unhappy old man someday.

Screw them kids. They've been pissed at me ever since I cut their endowments to nothing and closed their trust funds. The little worms never worked a day in their lives. It's about time they did.

“Mister Star, maybe we should try another direction since you seem to be unable to concentrate on anything I've asked you.”

“OK?”

I don't know what he wants to try, but I can't lose my fortune because of this wacko. I need my money to explore different ways to get back to that parallel World.

“If it is OK with you, Mister Star, I would like to go ahead and try hypnosis to see why you feel you must get back to this other World you have dreamt about while in your coma two years ago.”

That's something I haven't explored yet. Hypnosis! I wonder if I can somehow use my subconscious, while hypnotized, to get back to that parallel World.

“Mister Star, please. Would that be OK with you?”

“I'm sorry. Yes, yes of course.”

“First, Mister Star, tell me, if it were true, why do you believe it is so important for you to get to this other World and not live here, in your own reality? Please break it down to the simplest answer you can give me right now. Hopefully, under hypnosis, I'll be able to explore the reasons for your fantasy World and why you long to be there.”

“OK. Why do I want to live in a parallel World?”

I've got to think about this one. What is my simplest answer to his question?

I've got it!

“I know the other me is so very lucky, where things always seem to fall my way. My life does have its moments, but it always blows up in my face.” Yeah, that's it. “The parallel me is so damn lucky in his world and I'm so damn unlucky in mine!”

“Well Mister Star. I can't possibly see why you feel this way, being rich and famous and all, but let us explore the possibility that, even though you've reached some outstanding goals, there must be certain ones that you feel you are missing in your life, subconsciously.”

“OK, Doctor.” I need to stall him for about 20 minutes. I need to take some DMT before he puts me under. I bet, with the help of the drug and being under hypnosis, I'll be able to manipulate my subconscious and travel to the parallel World.

“Mister Star, before we start.”

“I'm sorry Doctor, I need to use the restroom first.”

“OK Mister Star, but I will have to ask you to empty your pockets and let my male nurse do a thorough body search before I can let you do that. We can't have you doing anymore drugs, you know. I would say Doctor's orders, but you know it is from the Judge in this case.”

“I'm appalled that you would suspect me of such underhanded tactics. But if you must, you must.”

After his patsy laid his hands on me, not finding anything, the patsy actually followed me here, into the bathroom. I don't know if he was supposed to, but he let me close the stall door. I guess he only takes his job, just so seriously.

These guys know nothing. The small looking button, holding down the back of my collar, is actually the DMT. I just have to pull it off my shirt, swallow, and now in about 15 minutes I'll be able to let the good Doctor put me under.

“Hurry up in there.”

The chump is still waiting for me by the wash basin. Well, here it goes.

“OK, let me wash my hands and we can get back to the good Doctor.”

He doesn't say a word. He just stares at me like he is wishing he was a million miles away. I know how you feel buddy. I know how you feel.

“Ah, Mister Star, you're back. I hope there will be no more interruptions?”

“No. So I guess, let's get on with it.”

“Mister Star I want you to relax. Let my words wash over you, and take the suggestions as you desire them. Everything here is safe, calm, and peaceful. Let yourself relax deeply into the couch. Your eyes may feel heavy and want to close. Let your body sink naturally down as your muscles relax. Listen to your body and my voice as you begin to feel calm. You are in complete control of this time. You will only accept those suggestions which are for your benefit and that you are willing to accept. Relax your feet and ankles. Relax your legs, hips, and torso. Relax throughout your whole body. Feel the muscles lighten and loosen in your body.”

I can feel the DMT kicking in. Now, I just have to concentrate. His words are starting to disappear from my thoughts. I can actually block out all surrounding sound. There seems to be a tunnel. I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel. I must follow it.

I'm getting near the end.

The tunnel, it just ends here, like it is in front of me, in my consciousness. The light acts as if it's a door, and doesn't enter this side of the tunnel. It has to be the barrier to another World. The World I want to be in. I must enter it. I've got to try. I've got to know if I can reach the parallel World from here. One more step.

“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“Mister Star, wake up! What is wrong? Why did you scream like that?”

Who is that? I must open my eyes.

“Where the hell am I?”

“Mister Star, you know very well where you are at. You are in my office.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Where am I?”

“Mister Star, you're here, in my office to be evaluated to see if your eldest son should take conservatorship of your estate.”

“What?” I've got to think and figure out what is going on.

“Mister Star, you were hypnotized for quite a while. I thought maybe if I let you rest, your inner thoughts would come to the surface and you could face whatever is troubling you. To discover why you want to live your life in another reality.”

“Doc, just let me think for a bit. OK?”

I've got to look away from this guy. I need to comprehend what is going on. I'm scared. I must think. Go over what I was doing before I woke up in this Psych's office.

I was with my wife, we were standing on the edge of the White Cliffs of Dover. We got into an argument over my infidelity when I was on tour with the Band, and the last thing I remember is...her pushing me over the edge. She was trying to kill me! I was screaming as I fell over the cliff!

Wait a second.

“Mister Star, are you OK?”

“Call me Dave, Doc. Just give me a few more minutes to figure this out, OK?”

“Fine, Dave.”

What was that dream I had? Yeah, I remember. It was about two years ago. I kept having this recurring dream when I was sleeping at night. Every night for months. The same dream. It was about this other world and me in it. My doppelganger wanted to trade places with me. Could that possibly have happened?

“Mister Star.”

“Call me Dave, Doc.”

“Dave, if you don't start concentrating and begin working with me, I'm going to be forced to report that you are incapable of taking care of yourself and your son should be allowed conservatorship of your estate.”

“I'm sorry, Doc. I'm willing to be cured. I'll do anything to convince you that I'm feeling much better now. Matter-of-fact, I've never felt so lucky in all my life!”

This is,

Feeling Lucky In My Life Too!

Jim Hauenstein,

And,

“In the lingering moments before you die your body releases DMT. The same drug that makes you dream. The same drug found in every living animal. You sit around a fire and recollect the past before soon parting ways back to the atomic ether. Your body does this because it loves you. You have never met anyone like your body. Your body has been with you everyday, good and bad. It's even kept a journal of your life carved in scars.”
- Anonymous -

That is my story and I am sticking to it!

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