you have to be mad, of course . . .how else will you make it through?  by being the best i am at what i do,  i replied.  i create art to start with, then i become lethargic.  swallow smoke and mourn.  i do tend to look a bit forlorn. . .she sayed that's all fine and good, but 'round here, that's the norm.  what makes you stand out?  she fumed.  we've already got enough people like you, i think i'll push you down the chute.  i said aww . . .yer cute, we really could do well together (and i knew it was now or never) so i started to fade, couldn't let myself be chained, to a person who wanted to think the same-that would've been insane, so she stared (it's true) until she saw right through,  then something peculiar took place, she couldn't remember the look of my face, she began to forget, that brief moment we'd shared when we first met