When I was a teenager I had a tank full of little colorful fish. They were freshwater fish, but I have no idea what they were called, nor did I then. I would go to the pet store every few months at Buckingham Square mall and pick out one or two more to add to my tank. Sometime in the process of becoming schizophrenic, I let them all starve to death. It was an ugly sight. I would suddenly look at the tank, in my room where I was every day and night, and realize I haven't fed them in three weeks; and so I would drop in a ton of food, and watch them frenzy about swallowing it like mad, starved as they were. One by one, they all died.