absolutely

I fade in and out all the time.
of reality and fantasy,
of love and indifference,
of passion and apathy.
I've no idea why.
Profoundly untouched at an early age
by reality, love, passion,
I suppose.
Does it render me more credible as an artist,
to be so unreliable,
unpredictable,
unknowable?
No.
Not really.
Dysfunction is no route
to glory or accomplishment.
Infamy, maybe.
Loneliness, absolutely.
Lost chances at really living, absolutely.
absolutely.