The wolf I feed

apparently there's a raging battle inside every cherokee (which i'm not but for all intents and purposes I identify with strongly) between two wolves:

The good wolf whom I imagine looks like a certain polar bear-esque german sherperd

and the bad wolf whom I imagine is actually a werewolf that looks suspiciously like me

The good wolf is all the things that I strive for: truth, beauty, love, connection, peace and happiness. The bad wolf is everything I am all too familiar with: misery, hatred, hurt, inadequacy, ego and isolation. The wolf that wins the rip-snarling, seemingly perpetual battle is the wolf I choose to feed. You know what the evil wolf eats? Probably a combination of Hurt programming, scraps from the commitee table inside my head, and McDonalds. The good wolf satisfies itself with homemade tortillas, Authenticity and slow but sure work towards positivity. The bad news is the evil wolf is a lot easier to feed and a lot more resilient. The good news is I've found the good wolf's bowl.