Almonds

Almonds 

It all started with the almond commercials. I sit down to watch YouTube- two unskippable ads, joy. The first ad is normal, it’s the second one that confused me. There are two guys, one in a bathing suit and sunhat, sunscreen on his nose and nowhere else. The other is dressed in an almond costume, holding a bowl of almonds. The slogan of the commercial is “Eat Almonds, Live Well.” The problem is that they aren’t advertising for anything besides almonds, no company or nothing. After seeing the commercial a dozen or so more times, I was invested in finding who they were advertising for. But I found nothing. And when I ask other people about these strange commercials, they have no idea what I’m talking about.  

So yeah, it started with the almond commercials, but now I’m noticing weird ads every time I go to watch something. I’ll get an ad for a new Mountain Dew flavor (I think it’s white grape or something?), except when the actor in the ad goes to open it the pop top is on the bottom and he has to drink all of it in one go. I think it’s kind of a cool new marketing tactic until I check and find that there is no new flavor of Mountain Dew. There’s a two-hour ad that is just a public bathroom with all the sinks running. Yes, I watched all two hours. And then there’s a Red Bull commercial with a biblically accurate angel who says “Red Bull gives you wings” with such deep bass that all the books fell off my shelf. What does it all mean? Am I losing it?  

After the ads are done being strange, they’re alarming. This one looks like a grainy home movie of a Halloween party. The camera pans to see people in costumes taking shots and dancing. Finally, it settles on a wide barrel with people crouching around it. They dunk their heads under, and only when they come back up do I realize that it isn’t filled with water. I watch the acid peel their skin away, but the grin of their skulls keep each shiny green apple locked in place. Next, it’s a man standing in the shower with a bloody nose. He just watches it drip down his body, staining himself and the tub burgundy. Then it changes to three women lying in the grass, holding hands, their necks laid across the edge of the train tracks. All of their eyes are closed, but I can hear the train coming, the horn blaring, wheels screeching-   

Suddenly the images stop and everything goes silent, except for the faint sound of breathing coming from my T.V. Her voice is serene,  

You’re not supposed to be here.  

Through thin lips, I ask her what she means.  

You are made of flesh. These visions are not for eyes like yours. If you stay for too long, your soul will attune to a depth of sorrow that you cannot endure.  

I tell her I don’t care. That I need to see. So she asks if I want to see the eyes of God. What I see next is a pair of eyes, one so brown it’s almost black, and the other completely overgrown with white cataracts. I sit and watch the brown eye, someone rubbing their index finger around the iris before the pupil dilates and swallows the whole digit. They push their other pointer finger in as well and pull it open wide. Each new layer is a new eye, of every person and every species to ever live on earth. I think I see my mother’s and my brother’s eyes, but they are passing so fast I can’t be certain. I see grief and pain and lust and elation. I watch a million millennia passing before me; I simultaneously want more time and want it all to end.  

Are you better for knowing? 

The fingers peel away the last layer, and I see my own eye staring back at me, full of tears and questions. And I want to tell her I’m not sure.