Fish Tank TV

There's nothing on. You know it, though for some reason you can't quite abandon your faithful, old friend. I took another route. I watch them swimming through the days. Even at night, I can hear splashing and bubbles being made at the top of the TV, the surface. Throw a few flakes in, watch them dart for the top of the screen and admire the great swimmers. It's kind of peaceful. It's the best kind of TV. I can meditate, can take in the beauty of something soulful, the water parting so beautifully for those baby fins and tiny bodies. To just soar through the water as if it weren't there. It seems like nothing, but what a weight it possesses.

It makes me think, rather than manipulate the total train of my thought. It sets me free, rather than lifting an invisible cage down upon me. It fills me with hope and love, and I am in there swimming too. What great TV! What a way to pass the time. There's not much on, but truly there is as much as I desire.