thoughts from a fish

What do I know about life? I’ve never really known freedom, my living space is just a few centimeters wide. They buy me – sure, they really deal with me – they pour me from one bowl to another, and that’s it. Alright, sometimes somebody looks through the window, and puts an eye to the glass – the eyes appear so huge to me. Its my sole entertainment but it scares me to death. Well, that’s just how it is. Such a tiresome life. I guess there’s nothing more tedious than the life of a fish.

I know my room by heart: I wish I could set up some sort of time indicator, some sort of routine, as they often forget to feed me. Why should they feed me, after all? If I were given some food regularly I would gain some weight, but they want to keep me slim – even though I’m all alone in here. This ol’ fish-heart of mine must be so very wet by now that nobody would accept it. It’s probably already damaged by the water that they so rarely change. 

In my tiny universe there is no notion of time. Nonetheless there is a sun – a technological sun that’s entirely artificial, made from Man’s knowledge and his perfect skillfulness: the lighting I would rather call a “ neon sun ”. In a certain way it does convey a notion of time since it is regular, like the heating. At least this gives me a little hope: at least someone once thought of connecting my micro universe to the heating and lighting system. 

It might sound silly, but these little things make life easier. Sure, you feel lonely – much too often you feel it, this loneliness – you lose control over this wonderful life. It’s so hard to live a life, especially when you’re lonely, like me, here in my tank. But when you have to face up to your fate it’s good to be able to rely on the small things in life – the heating, the lighting, they’re all symbols of the love that is beyond. 

Sometimes you may feel neglected. So what? Are you the only citizen on earth? Respect is one thing, common sense another. Some of us are stronger, some weaker. Was it always this way, or did it become like this? Only philosophers would know the answer. A kind of fashion has set in to help the weak, which guarantees some sort of self-pride while simulating generosity. Whatever that means. 

Am I really independent in this little glass box? Sure, I keep away from politics, wars and big decisions. My living space is the result of the evolution of the human mind: a piece of the sea in a minimum space, artificially made up. I won’t even plead on behalf of animal rights, nor would I say they make me suffer. No way. I’d rather stare into my neon sun and be bored to death.

©Matt Oehler 2013