The Aquarium

From the Personal Diary of Joscelin Holloway

What follows is no product of my hand, but a fragment wrested from the mind of Tobias P. Dobbs himself—a scribbled relic titled “The Aquarium,” its pages suffused with his maddening simplicity, a quality that gnaws at the edges of my cosmic awareness like a splinter in eternity’s flesh. I acquired this entry not through guile or force, but by the absurd happenstance of mortal carelessness: it fell from his coat pocket one evening as he fumbled with his keys outside my door, a crumpled sheaf of paper fluttering to the floor like a leaf from some mundane tree. He had come to return a scarf I’d left at his apartment— an oversight born of my distraction by his insipid warmth—and as he prattled about jellyfish and ticket stubs, I glimpsed the folded sheets, their edges worn from his incessant handling. “Oh, that’s just some stuff I wrote,” he muttered, blushing as I retrieved them with fingers that trembled not from power, but from the alien urge to know his thoughts; he shrugged and let me keep them, oblivious to the treasure he’d surrendered.

I preserve it here, this unadorned testament to his perception of our outing to that watery menagerie, not for its elegance—its prose is as plain as the socks he no doubt sorts by color—but for the disquieting clarity it casts upon my own unraveling. In his words, I am no harbinger of the void, no weaver of geometries that rend reality, but a curiosity he finds “neat,” a companion whose strangeness he embraces with a smile that mocks my dominion. The walls of my chamber pulsed erratically as I read it, the jellyfish in their tank tracing patterns of my agitation, for this glimpse into his soul reveals a truth I dread: he sees me not as I am, but as he wishes me to be, and I, in my weakness, have begun to wonder if I might bend to that vision. Let it stand among my entries, a shard of his light amidst my darkness, as I grapple with the horrifying possibility that his ordinariness might claim me more surely than I could ever claim him.


Today was absolutely fantastic! I took Joscelin to the aquarium. She's such a unique person - I mean, the way she interacts with marine life is incredible! She must have worked at an aquarium before or something, because all the animals seemed to recognize her.

I should probably mention how we ended up choosing the aquarium in the first place! It was such a funny conversation. I called her because I had the day off and asked if she'd like to do something fun. Just talking to her made me think of her smile - kind of like that time I saw a shark at the... oh, right, that's actually what gave me the idea for the aquarium!

"We could go to the aquarium," I suggested. "They just renovated their deep-sea exhibit!"

"Ah yes... the creatures of the depths. They remember, you know. The old ones who dwelt in their domain before surface dwellers crawled from the primordial ooze." Just hearing her voice made me imagine this adorable thing she does where her head tilts at weird angles - she must have amazing neck flexibility!

"They have a great cafeteria too!" I added. "The fish and chips are super fresh."

She made this sound that was kind of like laughter, if laughter could echo in your head. "How delightfully ironic, consuming the lesser beings while their ancient cousins watch from behind their glass prisons. Yes, this pleases me. The denizens of the deep should be reminded of my presence."

"They do have really clean tanks," I agreed. "The maintenance team does a great job!"

Later that day, I drove by to pick Joscelin up. As we walked to my car, she kept muttering something about "paying respects to the deep ones" and "reinforcing the ancient pacts." I love how committed she is to marine conservation! Though I did have to ask her to stop chanting "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn" or whatever it was - I explained that I needed to focus on driving, and she was super understanding about it.

(Sidenote: Must look up what "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn" means. Probably some kind of scientific classification system.)

She then did this cool thing where she seemed to fold herself into the passenger seat in a way that didn't quite make sense with normal human joints. I really should ask her where she does yoga - her flexibility is amazing!

The whole way there, she kept talking about how the "barriers between realities are thinnest in the depths" and how "the Old Ones still slumber in the trenches." She's so knowledgeable about marine biology! I mean, some of the terms she used weren't familiar to me, but I assume they're scientific names in Latin or something.

I did notice the GPS acting weird around her - the screen kept showing coordinates that definitely weren't on any map I know, and at one point it just displayed what looked like moving tentacles. Probably just needs a software update!

Oh! And the funniest thing - when we got to the aquarium, the ticket guy took one look at Joscelin and just went really pale and waved us through. Didn't even charge us! She must be a really valued member or something. Though I could have sworn I heard him whimpering something about "the one who walks between" as we passed. Maybe he was practicing for a play?

Anyway, the walk to the octopus exhibit was really interesting! We passed this tank of seahorses that all turned to face Joscelin at once. She said something about them "recognizing ancient royalty," which makes sense - she does have this really regal way of carrying herself. Though it was weird how they kept bowing. I didn't even know seahorses could bow! Must be a new trick the trainers taught them.

There was this funny moment at the clownfish tank where all the fish huddled behind their anemones. Joscelin mentioned something about "wise to hide from that which devours reality," but I'm pretty sure they were just shy. She has this really intense way of looking at things - maybe the fish aren't used to such focused attention!

But the octopi... wow. That was something else entirely! The moment we walked into that section, everything got really quiet. Like, unnaturally quiet. Even the usual bubbling sounds from the tanks seemed to stop. Joscelin said it was "the silence of recognition," but I figured the filters just needed maintenance.

All eight octopi in their separate tanks immediately changed color to this deep, shimmering purple I'd never seen before. Joscelin got really excited - well, her version of excited, which is more like an intense stillness that makes the air feel heavy. She pressed her hand against the central tank, and I swear the glass rippled like water. Must be some really thin aquarium glass!

The octopi all started doing this synchronized tentacle movement that looked almost like sign language. Joscelin was nodding as if she understood them, and then she did this thing with her fingers that definitely wasn't any sign language I know - her joints seemed to bend backwards and her skin sort of... rippled? She probably has double-jointed fingers like my cousin Sarah!

"They remember the old ways," she said, her voice somehow echoing despite the carpeted floor. "Their ancestors served in the courts of the Deep Ones, you know. Such knowledge lives in their very cells."

"That's amazing!" I replied. "The aquarium must have an incredible breeding program to maintain such strong genetic lines!"

The biggest octopus, this gorgeous giant Pacific one, started arranging itself into these complex geometric shapes that made my eyes hurt a little to look at. Joscelin said it was "paying tribute to the Old Geometries," but I'm pretty sure it was just showing off its flexibility. Though I have to admit, some of those shapes didn't seem physically possible... they must have incredible training techniques here!

The really weird part was when all the octopi changed color again to this shade that... well, I'm not sure how to describe it. It was like they were showing a color that doesn't exist? But that's silly - must have been a trick of the lighting. Joscelin seemed really pleased though. She did this thing where her smile went a bit too wide for her face and said, "Your tribute is acknowledged, children of the depths. Your ancestors' pact shall be honored."

Right after that, one of the smaller octopi created this pattern on its skin that looked like some kind of strange symbol that I thought I remembered, but I know I've never seen it before. When I mentioned this to her, she just made that sound that's like laughter but somehow echoes in your bones and said something about "synchronicity of the spheres."

On our way out of that section, we passed a tank of garden eels that all started swaying in formation. Joscelin said they were "dancing the ancient rhythms," but I'm pretty sure they were just excited about feeding time. Although... I didn't see any staff members with food...

You know what's funny? Even now, writing this, I can still hear that weird humming sound that started when Joscelin was communing (her word - I think she meant 'communicating') with the octopi. It's like a song that's just on the edge of hearing, making shapes in my head that don't quite... no, that's silly. Must be that new coffee place I tried this morning - their espresso was really strong!

We kept going the the next big exhibit, the dolphins, and they were kind of funny - they actually swam to the far end of their pool when we approached. Joscelin mentioned something about "wise enough to fear what walks between realities," but I think they might have just been tired from their earlier show. Though now that I think about it, I don't remember there being any shows scheduled today.

But the most amazing exibit was the aquarium's pride and joy: the jellyfish display! I've never seen anything like it. All the jellyfish started moving in perfect synchronization when Joscelin pressed her hand against the glass. The patterns they made were beautiful but somehow... unsettling? She said they were "dancing the ancient rhythms of submission," which I assumed was a quote from a marine biology textbook or something. Though I can't shake the feeling that their movements didn't look entirely natural.

Her fingers then did that weird stretchy thing again (she really should get that joint condition checked out), and suddenly all the jellyfish just... changed. They started moving in these perfect patterns - kind of reminded me of those synchronized swimming videos, but more geometric? It was beautiful, but somehow looking at it made my teeth hurt.

The strangest thing happened with the other visitors. This young couple near us started swaying, and then this family of four joined in, and before I knew it, everyone in the room (except me - I was checking a text from my sister) was moving in this weird formation and chanting "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn," or something like that. Joscelin called it the "Dance of the Deep Spheres." Must have been a flash mob! Though I don't remember hearing any music... just this weird humming that seemed to come from inside my head.

"The veils between worlds grow thin," Joscelin said, sounding really excited. "See how they remember the ancient geometries?"

I was going to ask what she meant, but I got distracted by how the people were moving. It was like they were making shapes with their bodies that didn't quite... work? Like, I'm pretty sure arms aren't supposed to bend that way, and some of them seemed to be standing at angles that should have made them fall over. Really impressive choreography! Though it was weird how their eyes all turned that milky white color. Must have been contact lenses that came with the flash mob costume.

Joscelin was practically glowing with delight (literally - there was this weird shimmer around her, but it was probably just the special lighting). She kept making these gestures that matched the jellyfish movements, and every time she did, the dancers would shift into new impossible positions. One kid somehow folded himself into a shape that reminded me of that advanced origami book I could never figure out.

The whole thing lasted about ten minutes, I think? Time got a bit weird in there. When it was over, everyone just kind of shook themselves and went back to normal, like waking up from a daydream. A few people were crying tears of joy (at least, I think it was joy - their faces had this blissfully horrified expression that was kind of hard to read).

You know what's funny though? Writing this now, I keep thinking about how the patterns the jellyfish made seemed familiar somehow. Like something I've seen in dreams, or maybe in that weird geometry book on Joscelin's shelf later? And the way the people moved... I keep trying to remember exactly what it looked like, but every time I do, my brain kind of slides away from the memory. Probably just tired - it was a long day!

The weirdest part is that nobody else seemed to remember it happening afterward. When I mentioned the flash mob to one of the families in the gift shop later, they just stared at me with this vacant look and started humming that same tuneless song from the jellyfish room. Even the gift shop clerk started swaying a bit when I brought it up. Must have been part of the performance agreement - you know, like those magicians who make you forget what you saw?

Joscelin bought a jellyfish plush toy from the gift shop. It keeps moving when nobody's looking at it, but that's probably just one of those new animatronic toys, right? Though I can't find any batteries in it...

After the aquarium, Joscelin invited me up to her apartment when I mentioned needing to use the bathroom. Her place is absolutely amazing! It's got this whole Victorian Gothic vibe going on - like something out of those classic horror novels I tried reading in college but couldn't really understand. She must have spent years perfecting the aesthetic. Makes my place with its IKEA furniture and Star Wars posters look like a teenager's room in comparison.

The walls do this really neat thing where they seem to breathe and pulse. Must be some kind of high-end textured wallpaper with mechanical systems behind it. Makes my plain white walls seem really boring in comparison. Though I couldn't find any seams where they would have installed it... and when I touched the wall, it felt weirdly warm and kind of... squelchy? Probably just some fancy new smart-home humidity control system that I'm too ordinary to understand.

Her bookshelves are incredible - floor to ceiling, all these ancient-looking leather-bound volumes. Some of them were whispering in languages I didn't understand. Here I am excited about my paperback sci-fi collection, and she's got books that literally speak to you! Must be some creative use of those little electronic speaker systems. One book tried to bite me, but Joscelin quickly calmed it down by stroking its spine and whispering something that made my ears ring. I couldn't even pronounce what she said - she's so educated and worldly compared to me.

The bathroom was... interesting. The mirror kept showing reflections of places that definitely weren't in the apartment, and I swear I saw something with too many eyes looking back at me. Joscelin explained it was a "window between realities," but it's probably one of those fancy smart mirrors with built-in screens. Though I'm not sure why it was bleeding... Makes my bathroom with its rubber duck collection seem kind of childish.

Her furniture is so unique and elegant. The armchair in the corner kept trying to nibble on my jacket when I got too close. "It's just hungry," Joscelin explained. "I haven't fed it any visitors lately." She has such a sophisticated sense of humor - way above my dad jokes and puns. Though I did notice my jacket sleeve was a bit shorter when I left...

But the most interesting thing was this symbol on her floor - the exact same one that smaller octopus made at the aquarium! When I pointed this out, Joscelin got really excited. Her eyes did that thing where they seem to contain swirling galaxies (amazing contact lenses!), and she said something like "You can see the sign? Perhaps you are more... suitable than I thought."

For a moment, I felt special, like maybe I had something unique to offer her. But then she started explaining about "doorways to dimensions beyond mortal comprehension," using all these complex terms I couldn't follow. Here she is casually discussing multiple dimensions, and the most interesting thing I can talk about is how I reorganized the paper clip display at work last week.

The centerpiece of her living room was this massive aquarium that seemed to contain... well, I'm not entirely sure what was in it. Every time I tried to look directly at it, my brain kind of slid away from what I was seeing. Joscelin said they were "fragments of beings from beyond the veil," but they looked kind of like really exotic sea cucumbers to me. She spoke about them with such passion and knowledge - I couldn't even contribute to the conversation. What do I know about exotic sea creatures? The most exotic pet I ever had was a goldfish named Bob.

When I was leaving, I could have sworn the door handle turned into a mouth and tried to kiss my hand, but it was probably just one of those optical illusions you get when you're tired. Joscelin did mention something about her apartment "taking a liking to me," which was sweet. Though I'm not sure why she added "It usually devours unwanted guests" with that weird echoing laugh of hers.

You know what's strange though? Now that I'm writing this down, I feel so... ordinary. Joscelin lives in this amazing world of mysterious books, impossible geometries, and things I can't even begin to understand. And what am I? A guy who gets excited about new coffee flavors and collects superhero socks. How could someone like her ever be interested in someone so... normal?

Even the weird things I noticed - the changing distances, the self-reading books, the crying Latin-singing houseplants - they all just remind me how far out of my league she is. She probably has quantum physicists and philosophy professors asking her out all the time. People who understand all these incredible things in her apartment, who can discuss advanced theoretical concepts and ancient languages.

What could I possibly offer someone who seems to understand the very fabric of reality? The highlight of my week was finding a new organizing system for the store's paperclip display. How do you impress a woman whose bathroom mirror opens into other dimensions?

- Toby

P.S. Note to self: Maybe I should take some online physics courses? Though somehow I doubt they cover whatever it is that makes her air freshener let you smell colors and taste memories...


Note to self: Ask her where she gets her contact lenses. The way they sometimes show swirling galaxies must be some really advanced holographic technology!