Flinching ticks of REM. Eyes moving under the cover of his lids. A nightmare or a dream? What is it that bothers his mind as he slips into the unconsciousness of sleep?

What is it indeed.

The look on his face tells me nothing as he just lies there sleeping his sleep, dreaming his fevered dream.

The sad look in his face tells no story of how he is feeling. His happy tail betrays his sad face. Swaying back and forth, to and fro, his happiness he cannot suppress.

He disappears into the night as I do my usual finger tapping. A little “snap snap” he comes to my call. Such a good dog he is, such a good pickle.

Up in my bed, laying there, getting to his level of comfort ness before he succumbs to his unconscious state again.

I just have to wonder what does he really think about me? I can never tell. Is he bored to have me as his master, his best friend? I don’t pay enough attention to him as I should, and I don’t play with him enough for him to actually bond with me. But for some reason, I feel that he does like me. Always attached at the hip he always is.

We have our fights like anyone. I’ll leave him for hours on end while he’s stuck at home. I wonder what it is that he does to pass his time. Does he play with the large selection of tennis balls that I have laying around the house or with the little dirty stuffed squeaky sheep that he likes for me to throw at him.

I guess my fascination with him has come and gone. The novelty has worn off and now I’m with him. He’s just another being that keeps me company as I pass through my off hours at home alone.

Such a nice dog he is. He has the greatest temperament I’ve ever met in any dog. Quiet in his own way, rarely barks unless there’s another canine around. Always over anxious to play with other dogs and whines when I don’t ever let him.

Nowadays you can never trust other dogs and even your own.

Trust.

That is always an issue. Stress. That is always an issue. Where will things go? What will happen? I don’t know. I have no idea where things are going to go. I guess I’ll know when it gets there and either one of us have to make the decision as to where we want to go. Will we go our separate ways? Will she can’t stand me or vice versa.

I’m a difficult guy to get along with. Many of my friends and even family know this about me. Sure, I’m very laid back and easy going, but I’m also very stubborn and more selfish than I like to be. This causes me to be very very particular and difficult.

I just like things to go very easy and smooth. I’m just the type of guy who likes to understand everything and if I don’t understand something, that just frustrates the crap out of me. That’s just me.

Sometimes I just don’t understand why people do the things they do, and hence, I just don’t get along with them, or I’m just too inquisitive and ask them a billion questions or just sit back and let things unfold, hopeful to get some answers to the mystery that is them.

And once I have and inkling of understanding and I don’t agree with what they are doing, I can’t do anything about it. It’s not my life to change, and again, I’m very particular. If I don’t agree with something, I’ll just ignore it until I finally get use to it and just move on. Sometimes I just can’t move on that easily.

Life is kind of crazy that way. And the shitter is that there’s nothing that I can do. I just have to live with it or make a decision that will change things. It will have to be discussed and come to a mutual agreement of sorts. It’s just how things work. It’s just how things are going to be. A series of compromises from both parties to come to a decision that changes their lives forever.

What will happen? I have no idea what is going to happen. I honestly don’t know. I have an inkling as to where things are going to go, but I don’t want to be thinking about that just yet.

Alone.

Come to think of things, I’ve always enjoyed my independence. I’ve always enjoyed living on my own schedule and never having to facilitate other people’s demands to match my own or vice versa. I love the fact that I could go and do anything I want without having to discuss it with another party. I like the fact that I could go out and do this just because I want to and not because someone wants the company.

But, now with Pickles, it’s kind of difficult sometimes. I would love to go out and write more often, but I just can’t. I leave him at home alone for about 9 hours in the day. I come home walk him and try to take a nap or watch my movies or television shows while trying to catch up with my web surfing, then I’ll fix myself some dinner and then it is time to unwind with more movie watching or tv watching before I have to write.

Not so long ago I would just go out and write at Tanner’s or my much beloved bridge, but now I can’t. I just feel so guilty that I leave Pickles alone so much as is. I’m rarely home on the weekends anymore, whether I’m going to work or going out. I guess life just gets in the way of responsibilities.

Responsibilities.

That’s something I find myself losing as I get older. I’m becoming more and more careless with my actions and my spending and I just find it disappointing. I am disappointed in myself for letting it get to this circumstance where I am almost broke and I’m making the most I’ve ever made. But again, life gets in the way.

I have so many aspirations and it seems that all of them seems so out of reach because life is getting in the way. I would love to write more, but company and outings and sheer fatigue or laziness keep getting in the way. I would love to make another short, but money issues get in the way. There are just so many things I would love to do, but I just can’t do it because of one thing or another. I envy those who are able to manage everything, to make everything work in their favor. I need lessons on how to get my life together. I just need life lessons in general.

I look at my brother. He has his life already. Good solid job and a nice house while I’m in a decent job living in an apartment. I’m sure he may think that he’s envious of me, but there is no godly reason for him to be. To each his own I guess. To each his own.

Life escapes me with every breath that I take. Life just escapes me and I wonder where I will be.

Looking in the cloudy future, I do not see where I will be.

Looking into the misty silver, I can’t make out who will keep me company.

I’m not a lucky guy. Everything that I’ve done and gotten I’ve worked for. Nothing was ever handed to me on a silver platter. I’ve either had to work for it or buy it or kiss assed for it and I rarely, if ever, kiss ass. I’m just not the type.

The lottery, gambling, things that I suck at. I’m not lucky enough to have the free money handed over to me like that.

Maybe I just don’t make the effort or maybe I’m just full of excuses to bring me down to the level that I feel comfortable at and to keep me away from the level that everyone thinks I’m on.

Life escapes me. With each breath. Breathe.

The slow methodical breathing. In/Out. In/Out. The limbs twitch and flinch as he dreams of chasing dogs through the park, playing their little rough games of housing. Like us, they dream. They dream of happiness, games, play, life. They dream of life.

Where will he be with me in the future? Will I be a good owner to him, keeping him in a healthy state long enough for him to see his 100th birthday?

I’m not a perfect person. I never meant to do those things to you. Not even close. Damaged goods in a once fragile container that is now just broken shards. Pieces that can never be glued back for I am too messed up to fix.

So jaded and cynical. I just can’t seem to see the light in things anymore.