Personal Narrative: My Life As A Dog

If I were to describe my life as a metaphor, I would say that it would be a dog that only knows the world within its bounds. Maybe a little like Courage the Cowardly Dog as well if I looked to the symbolic aspect of it. At home the world is normal and serene, yet the moment something passes through or you leave the house things can be skewed. The most normal of things might be seen as inhuman entities out to snatch your dearest ones away. That is the life of the unaware. Of course being confined is not everything. Being able to experience the outside world is still a moment of excitement as it is a time of learning. Little points of familiar surroundings changing each time. Growing excited over the smallest of things. It is as if I am greeted by a new sight though it is anything but. Eyes gleaming as the sights and sounds are reabsorbed. It almost sounds sad, but being able to feel a sense of renewal is by far better than feeling underwhelmed, especially when living on an island in such a small town. There is not much to see and not being able to go any where often makes

To me, that is my immediate family and those who have made brief appearances. Whether it was directly or indirectly I had learned from each person about the world and myself. Their influence having a deep impact on me. The worst experiences had been from those that passed through briefly, leaving behind negative memories that have fed the flames of wrath, which lies within an iron cage. Much like a dog whom has experienced all its abuse from a repeated source and now shows hostility. I tend to hold hostility in the same way, though it is most prominent if it involves a certain head figure. That person is the hand that feeds me and I cannot bite that hand. My feelings may twist and form to reflect these influences, but there will be one part that will always remain the