RIP Pookie

I found this written in the back one of my notebooks today,

"Time pulls us toward death and while changing us so, time -- this controlling force, takes us toward death -- an inevitable disordering, disesembling force time makes up and lets us go and we are off and fall and takes death takes us apart No point in controlling time."

I copy that exactly. Though it may seem incoherent, it's kind of neat. I was having a mini epiphany while writing my term paper on Gothic elements in Wuthering Heights...

And so, Pookie. I came back from my first class this morning to feed my fish, and there was Pookie one of my painted tetras with its nose stuck to the filter siphon. Pookie was long passed by that time, poor kid. I don't know what happened. I haven't been incredibly attentive to them lately, I must have missed something. The other 3 look fine though. Hrm, I don't know. Anyway, I was sad for my fish. I told Pookie I was sorry I didn't pay enough attention lately. Pookie was actually my favorite out of the tetras, with the crooked eyes. It was the rejet fish no one wanted, but I took it in...and killed it. Usually that doesn't happen, honest, I take care of my pets. I really think it was the story I revised the night before. I re-wrote a story that featured my fish with all their agressiveness and cannibalism, connecting it to the relationship between the two characters. It was a funny story. But, the CURSE isn't funny. The last time I wrote the story, fish died too. Something

fishy

is going on.
So, as I was saying, Pookie, time grew him for a while, guided his little fins, and then let go and there death in the filter took him. Pookie is now part of something bigger than a 10 gal tank, bigger than the Carlow septic tank...

POOKIE