What do you want from me fish?

Months of neglect and yet Stephen Harper and Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note are still thriving.
I knew this would happen. The minute I no longer want something it seems to decide it suddenly wants me. Like Destiny's Child, my fish are survivors. They're not going to give up (what?). They're not going to stop (what?). They're going to work harder (what?).
They spend their days swimming around in circles and when I walk by they suddenly stop. Their eyes follow me, as I slowly make my way around the clutter of my bedroom, in a way that gives me goose bumps. I have started having nightmares in which Stephen Harper flings himself out of my aquarium and starts to suck my soul right out of my body. It's my own fault. All of it. I should have known better than to buy fish. I am not a fish kind of person. I like things that do exactly what I want, exactly when I want them to. The fish refuse to live when I want them to (even though I leave them inspiring notes about my love for them and desire for them to live), and then they refuse to die when I passively wish it on them (do not worry.. I still feed them and ensure their water is clean). Maybe I should place an add in the paper. You know.. One of those "free to a good home.. or someone who is hungry and is willing to eat tiny, domesticated tropical fish."