On one hand, Robert is the dark, brooding, creative, melancholic sort. It’s obvious from the way he carries himself that his head is somewhere in the clouds. It’s always been part of his persona: the tortured artist, the all-seeing poet, the messenger with news from the other side. He’s also quite normal, someone who enjoys sitting down with a pint and watching football. People sense this dichotomy about him and it doesn’t add up. He’s part of the world but also not part of it. Here and not here. Matter and anti-matter. People don’t like that. They want you to be one thing or another.
