So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling; seen that. If I ask you about sex, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to someone and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. And I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right, "once more unto the breach dear friends." But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, watch them gasp their last breath looking to you for help. I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at someone and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with their eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be their angel, to have that love for them, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding their hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes, that the terms "visiting hours" don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, because it only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. And look at you... I don't see an intelligent, confident person.I see a cocky, scared s**tless kid. But you're a genius. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me because you saw a picture of mine? Say you were an orphan.You think I know the first thing about how hard your life has been, how you feel, who you are, because I read Oliver Twist? Does that encapsulate you? Personally, I don't give a s**t about all that, because you know what, I can't learn anything from you, I can't read it in some f**kin' book. Unless you want to talk about you, who you are. Then I'm fascinated. I'm in. But you don't want to do that do you sport? You're terrified of what you might say.