the magic eye

we sat on the couch up on the third level and we looked at the magic eye book; james told me i could see it if i just let my eyes cross and focus on the image. it worked twice- once it was the world and once a little dog.

the five of us sat on the balcony and talked about It. they let me. i thought they were thinking i was hysterical and james said, with so much honesty it still gnaws at me, "no,we understand exactly where youre coming from" and that simple little sentence meant more to me than if he had drawn a diagram of my emotions that night, like pad did with my short story last year in forman's class. i wanted to hug him, or bring him to a place in my existance that only i understood. he got it and i wanted to thank him. they all did- nodding and smoking and getting it over and over and YES! this is why It happened- so people like you will nod and smoke and get it and ryan will see a shooting star and i will feel less dirty and brandon will tell me that every choice is for a reason, propelling us deeper and further into a future that i wont let myself understand
if you just try, you cant see the thing. if you dont try nothing at all will happen. if you try so hard that you actually stop trying, your eyes crossed and delusional, youll see it. youll see it emerge from nonsense, from nothing. itll come into being like the 5 of us on the balcony, me going on and on and ryan seeing a star's trajectory across the sky. itll come into being like me realizing that nothing is sweeter than owning what i know-- that nothing is realer than believing in how i feel. itll come into being like denise saying we were all like "the anniversary party," that she was so glad she came because nothing in LA can rival this. i remember her laying on my floor in the midst of it, listening to the cds she had just complimented, her hands folded on her chest, her eyes closed and her face calm and understanding. maybe its easier for other people to understand it, because its really simple, its really just bones. but to think what it must have felt like for her- being literally thrown into omlette making with zel and alice serving nutella pancakes, the broken beer bottle and the 5 of us on my bed, elizabeth giving me CPR on the floor, the cloraseptic and ryan and cameron downstairs,alone, listening to music.
i want to know who is directing this. it couldnt get stranger; its neverending. there have been so many climaxes and deneumontes that its like we are back where we started, or we're on the mirror side of a one way window, a class of students on the other side, studying us and taking notes, speculating about how it ever got to this point and when it will all fall, finally and gracefully, to pieces.