EPT
This is a piece of writing I did for a small assignment in an experimental writing class. Was quite fun to do, it's (like a lot of my stuff) based off a dream that I had one night.
---
The House Fish
Trapped within a microcosm glass universe, it finds succour therein; all external malevolence has been taken away by the hand of man. The household fish, in all its salty glory, floats suspended in an environment that will never be as volatile or as dangerous as our own.
Plucked from the ocean, or born already contained within the safe confines of this glass house; it taunts us daily with its safety and its lack of concern. The household fish sits happily, accepting the hand the feeds it, as only it can. Safe from its natural predators, saved by the thin film of glass, the walls and the doors of the domestic landscape it cannot help but be seen as an arrogant being. It is not simply taciturn, it is eternally silent – a household fish does not ever have to explain, or confront, or divulge or converse – its ebbing thoughts belong to it alone, trapped within a memory that does not have a scarred past or a grasp of the fundaments that precede emotion or care. At the top of the food chain we are dormant, sitting, exuding pride, absolutely certain that we are the most dominant; the Lords of all creatures.
Yet, our lives are filled with the same predators of the wild; vultures, lions, wolves in sheep’s clothing or in Granny’s bed and sharks to boot. Unscrupulous is our world, worried as well – we have fear instilled within us for as long as we can remember, boogie men lurk around every corner; monsters live under our beds and demons inside our minds. Fear and anxiety can strike us with a swift and pernicious fist, leaving lasting damage, as unlike the fish; we remember, we ruminate and we are unable to swim as carefree through life as it does.
We have concerns about an uncertain future whilst trying to seize control and shape our own lives towards achievement and a sense of purpose when we do not even know our prime purpose. Our food is earned, our shelter is too; one way or another. We spiral forward evermore into uncertainty, with each day is another dilemma - a new set of challenges.
With this the sense of fear that we have always known creeps into our systems and grows as a cancer does – slowly and from the depths of our being. Yet still the house-fish glares out at us, blankly observing a world it never has to face – a world it never has to understand or interact with except for on the most fundamental of levels. Shall we then say that the microcosm glass universe of the house-fish is a true example of utopia?
If only it were as simple for us to return to a primal state and live symbiotically with the same nature we expunge bit-by-bit daily. It seems like a nostrum ill-devised, but if we all lived the same carefree existence of the house-fish, unbound in our glass and water heaven, we would sit content without complexity. True, we are at the top of many chains, the strongest link in all, both long lived and intelligent – far less ephemeral and stupid as the fish – but we have to bear the weight of the world upon our frail shoulders, anxious of every minute of the months and years that form our lives.
The fish from conception to final gulp of air will blankly and unforgivingly perform its simple yet pithy actions; free from the trappings of our world; free from the dangers of the natural ocean and streams that its wild brothers and sisters are obligated to face. It is as if the house-fish was born with a gene of absolute indifference; etched into the small brain encased in salty flesh and bone. We, like the ocean-bound fish, are outsiders; looking in at the perfect glass universe, let loose to natural predators, forever unsure and fearful of the unknown that wholly engulfs us.
