You do this thing where, it’s like an OCD thing, but it’s not. It’s, um… Whenever you’re leaving your room, you grab the doorknob, you turn it and you’re getting ready to leave but you don’t, you stop and you back up and you turn to the mirror and you stare at yourself. But it’s not like a, you know, “I’m so hot” type of stare. You know, it’s more like… “Who am I, really?” And to ask yourself that, I mean, that’s… so cool. So you look out the window all the time like I do, only you’re looking at the world, you know? Trying to figure it out, trying to understand the world. Trying to figure out why it’s not in order like your books… I’m only looking at you.