Threnody For Hot Pad

I have decided to put schoolwork aside for a short while today, for I now wish to pay homage to Hot Pad, who died sometime last night.
Apollyon, Calypso Bizaar, Ploof, And I (this was pre nemo/whitefoot saintliness) were walking about in the woods behind Crescenta Valley Park... and if I recall correctly, we were on an expedition to find where exactly the mayans had scurried off to. We had to put a hiatus on this escapade because Sir Paranoia wished to merge his party with ours. He had just finished some sort of seminar on raising and treating koi fishes and now had a wee one with him in a bag. When the power explorer arrived (he and his ardent aura), I was immediately attracted to the simple little thing. I had wanted a living organism to call my own sitting in my room for some time. I got some basil but, it just wasn't very lively. I wanted something from my kingdom that I can maintain. I decided i'd be the one to take it off of Sir's hands. We spent some time sculpting a name for it and Ploof finally proposed "Hot Pad", which for a time had morphed into "HOT PAAAAAAD!!". We spent that afternoon desperately going from store to store trying to find a fish-bowl and some fish food. The 99¢ store and Good-Will provided these two things. That was a fun time. I figured at the time that if this fish didn't survive, at least we'd have the memory of acutely trying to prevent that.
It lived and now I had a fish. HOT PAAAAAAD!! the fish. It floated about, looked at the little rocks at the bottom of the slightly claustrophobic bowl, ate what was fed to it, etc. I figured this was only a provisional home for it and that it'd end up spending the rest of it's days in a larger environment with his Koi brethren. This never happened.
Overtime, HOT PAAAAAAD!! returned back to "Hot Pad" and it became but a mere decoration for the room. I grew lethargic towards it and only took heed of him when the area around him began stinking of barnacle. One day, however, I looked at his murky domicile and became stricken with deep anguish. I've realized that his whole life has been composed of frantically trying to sustain itself. I was told by either my older sister or one of the saints that koi fish only grow large when they have room to grow. This chilled me to the marrow. I was only going to keep him until he grew large enough to not get eaten by other koi fish, and even then I was only keeping him because of my signature inertia. I began watching him with an immensely deep fascination and a deeper despondency. What I saw was a creature meant for larger environments being kept minuscule by the domicile that I have placed him in, vanishing behind a veil of his own collected filth, gasping at every moment for pockets and bubbles of oxygen. Cleaning the bowl proved futile for the murk would return but hours later. At times his state proved stimulating and other times he felt like a bone chilling metaphor for all consciousness. I knew what time would do to Hot Pad, and it happened last night.
I hovered over the bowl, gazing upon a motionless koi fish. I looked at his eye and saw no difference in his expression. His eye was no window to a soul, but rather another tool for survival, for he was nothing more than a biological machine. Life is a state of matter. He focused all of his attention on staying alive and now he was focusing all of his attention on decomposing. I quietly lamented his shift of priorities for a while in my backyard, considering what exactly it is I have taken from Hot Pad's short life. It certainly helped me appreciate the idiosyncrasies of my mind in contrast to his. His mission was to keep going for as long as possible for the act's own sake. When I sustain my life, I feel much more aware of the prolongation of awe-inspiring euphoria, bottomless despair, and all that lay in between. Hot Pad could never know how deeply his dance of frantic self-regulating effected Dishdawash. It doesn't matter to me that my eyes serve no greater use than his but I enjoy how I can knowingly move harmoniously with nature... neither of us have much of a choice anyway. Rot in peace Hot pad... fuck it. His name was HOT PAAAAAAD!!