The week is over, we made it, by the skin of my teeth, but we got there. I am weary this morning, tired, next week is more of the same, but not quite as bad, I have to confess that if the wolf in me had not been present, then it would probably have been a very bad week. As a man, I consider myself a decent chap, a nice chap, as a wolf, I have only one motto, the end justifies the means, although that is not the free for all as it may sound, the truth is, we made it only because the wolf hustled, ducked, dived, and used every trick in the book. As a man I wrote of the howling, the never ending howling that penetrates your head, but even as wolf, although there is no howling, there is worse, a wolf does not live by the truth, a wolf respects and understands the truth, but a wolf will compromise, will flirt with the truth, so, as wolf, all I hear in my head, is the truth, taunting me, calling me base, an animal, a beast, and so the battle continues, no matter what state I choose, the alter ego is there, at no point do wolf and man sit down and help each other, they are bitter enemies, sworn to despise and hate each other, and what each other stands for. Some people may be lucky, maybe they are of the mother and the dolphin, or the kestrel, or indeed, anything other than a wolf, maybe they live in harmony, peace, I have seen them, yet to me, they seem dead, I have contemplated that it is only the constant fighting that actually keeps me alive, and without that , I would become bored of life, And then, when you consider the pain and misery in the world, that people inflict on people, in the name of tradition, religion, or anything else that they can use to justify, then my pathetic internal struggle between two non existant personalities fades into insignificance, whilst I am here in this warm shop, munching chocolate and guggling down energy drinks, (as I am not a grown up, I cannot drink coffee,...), with 'turn the page' on full blast, cursing my fate, my sentance of not being quite one person or another, you cannot help but think of the starving, the ill, the dying, The answer, to this, to everything, is humour, preferably of the gallows variety.