But how excruciating, how fucking sad is the way you tend to desecrate, to exorcise my fears, thoughts and dreams?

You need to prove that you understand, that you know, that you've been through it all and you're here now and it is thus a matter of no importance.
You need to belittle, mock and diminish.
You need.
And in fact you do understand, you are familiar with this everything, because you've been stoned with stories, impressions, notions and tales of experience since ever.
But you do not know, do you? As you are not meant to.
And you won't learn until you'll believe you know: doesn't one only learn by not knowing?
And you do not need!
So let me learn, let me not know. And let me then get stoned with rocks and slammed to the ground and kicked and smashed until the ribs crack and the breath breaks
and I am left there, a shell half-emptied, plastered in your shame.
All for knowing not to know.

And then let me glow again with knowledge.

I don't know what you're talking about. But I want to understand, I want to learn.
So tell me, I want to know.