Friedrich Engels

One day earlier this semester I sat alone in my room looking around me. I am, for some reason unknown to me, a minimalist. Some people have hinted that this may be some sort of neurosis, I think I'm just "neat." I digress. As I was taking in the bareness that was my room, I decided I needed something, anything, to improve my surroundings. I decided fish would do the trick. I'll admit, I haven't had the greatest track record with fish. But, in my defense, they haven't had the greatest track record with me either. The first fish I owned Zwingli (R.I.P) wouldn't eat. It was as simple as that. I gave him food, and he refused.

Needless to say, this left me a little jaded. I proceeded to purchase more fish and test a hypothesis. This left me with less fish than I had in the first place, and still no Zwingli (R.I.P). I thought I had sworn off fish forever.

Little did I know, my whole life was about to change. I recognized the bareness that was my room, and realized what I had to do. I had to learn to trust another fish. I went to the empire known as Wal-Mart, picked out my fish, and introduced him to his knew home. But what to name him? This was a struggle. I realized that the desire to own again came from the positive experiences I had this summer with my roommates fish, Karl (Marx). I'm sure you can fill in the rest of the story.

Engels and I have been getting along great. He's eating and swimming like a champ. Sometimes I take a break from my work and watch him swim. It can feel like escaping into another world. Sometimes I wish we could trade places for a day.

Sometimes I wonder if he can think, and if he can think if he thinks he's free. He's really not. There's not a lot of places he can go. I wonder if he would be okay with that.