Dubai Aquarium

Seven hundred and fifty millimeters between worlds- Confined on one side, the enormity of the ocean, a contradiction to the sand on which it sits; artificiality’s extravagance encompassed in a delicate bubble. Just as its maker, Under azure of neon and amongst the life in its technicolor, diverse, rare, immigrated; Its foundation’s fluid is submerged and alloyed into into the ground that by itself is too loose for roots of its own. We don’t look in; We are. And in that what one tends to miss in the mesmerism of the bubbles’s iridescent surface is the reflection of an absence of light- and jagged maw that lurks int it. This premises is under surveillance. The sharks muse at the spectacle too. Glassy stares of dilated slits follow the prospect of prey; Ignorant onlookers included. There is no reason to actually follow through with function- Like everything else in the sphere, The belly of the beast is too full to ever consider capability in the drift of their daydreams- the thought, in itself, is empowering enough. What is an aquarium after all, But a simulated entrapment of an interpreted reality? I bet the sharks don’t have any questions regarding who feeds them.