Saturday, 10 March 2012


*I* feel like a fish living in a one of those bowl shaped tank with a dark thick cloth put over it. I can see nothing in the darkness. Not even a ray of hope. Fish in tanks only see what is presented to them. They cannot jump out, unless of course they are feeling suicidal. But unlike humans, pet fish cannot go and have an adventure, nor can they truly know what the world is really like. I wonder if there ever was a pet fish who questioned the world for what it truly is. Most importantly, I wonder if that fish got to see and understand the reality.

I am in a fish bowl, maybe it is self inflicted. For when the reality has come at me in the form of the family cat, I have with immediate urgency retreated to the little house as the bottom of the glass tank. Now, the world has hidden me away, as if I never existed. Even the cat has stopped coming to me. I am no longer a part that fits anywhere. A jigsaw piece that belongs in another puzzle... misbagged, misplaced.

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