What do I know?

Grammatically incorrect for art's sake.  Some of the lines may become reordered or reworded. All comments are welcome.  Thanks in advance.
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Writing advice often involves being told to write what I know.

Apparently, this makes the writing more authentic, and is simpler and more honest than research or making up details from whole cloth.

But what do I know?

I know the pleasure of choosing the right words for praising and damning; expressing and lying – words have so much power.

I know days of grief and toil that never seem to end; moments of pleasure and laughter gone too soon.

I know lying on the ground, watching the clouds drift past as I dream; the cold rush of air mixing with awe and fear as I drift through the sky, my parachute canopied above me.

I know scorching dry desert heat and freezing dry arctic winds.

I know weeping over a broken heart; walking away from a heart I’m breaking.

I know standing apart from the crowd; sitting alone amongst the crowd; welcomed as part of the in-crowd.

I know keeping secrets and spreading gossip; betrayed and betraying.

I know cursing in a half-dozen tongues; saying thank you in a dozen more.

I know the thunderous crack of ice breaking from a glacier to crash into the ocean below.

I know the warm breath and pressure of a woman’s passionate kiss.

I know the warm purring of a cat cuddled with me, gently kneading my stomach with its claws.

I know slowly waking to the scent of fresh coffee; quickly waking to gunfire and the sky glowing red as flares parachute lazily to the ground.

I know the rush of racing a car past 120 MPH, because it’s on the speedometer; the crashing jolt of a car accident.

I know the smell of ink and paper as a brand new book is opened; the satisfaction in finishing a well-written book.

I know grazing holidays spent with loving, laughing family; grazing holidays spent alone with a bottle.

I know unending, cloudless desert skies and white-capped mountains bursting with color.

I know the awkward, electric suddenness of a long-desired first kiss.

I know tears of anguish at a friend’s funeral; tears of joy while holding my newborn child; tears of frustration at overwhelming situations; tears of pride when accomplishing something difficult.

I know too chewy, too spicy, too hot, too cold, too bland, too runny, too bitter, too raw, too cooked exotic foods.

I know waking before sunrise; staying up all night to watch the sunrise; realizing that I still need to do the latter with someone special.

I know closing a bar on my birthday with close friends; being carried home after being kicked out of a bar by one of those same friends. 

I know tracing constellations on a cloudless night; wishing to see stars in the black of night.

Apparently, I can write about lots of things.

But then again, what do I know?