>>28701810
Thought about what you said to me the other day. About my painting. Stayed up half the night thinking about it. Something occurred to me. And I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep, and I haven’t thought about you since. You know what occurred to me?
You’re just a kid. You don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about.
It’s alright. You’ve never been out of Boston.
So if I asked you about art, you’d probably give me the on about every art book ever written. Michelangelo. You know a lot about him. Life’s work. Political aspirations. Him and the Pope. Sexual orientation. The whole works, right? But I 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 women, you’d probably give me a syllabus of 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 a woman and feel truly happy.