I’m cookie dough.
What kind of hero does that make me?
It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we’d know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank… Without passion, we’d be truly dead.
“We’re all brothers under the skin, mi amigo. Although the garden hue and horns have kept me out of some key public performances.”