"o! now, for ever
farewell the tranquil mind; farewell content!"
othello - act iii, scene iii
"i haven't posted an original thought in a month and i don't know how i feel about that. i mean i know when i think about it i'm not happy i haven't written anything new but i can honestly count on two fingers the amount of times i actually even thought about my blog during the past month. and that makes me wonder if i've already said everything i've ever wanted or needed to say about the only thing i ever write about. should i write another romantic letter? hell, can i write another romantic letter? i don't know. i feel like i'm not saying anything anymore. when did a word from me just become a word? i love loving somebody but i'm tired of talking about loving somebody. i've become allergic to reading my own beautiful words. i sneeze and my eyes water when i read the old posts so i'm trying to be "claritin clear". free of the themes that have defined who i am up until now.
yet i write again, because people are eagerly anticipating this post, including me. because tomorrow i turn "reggie miller", but not in a lawky, bald-headed, 3-point shooting, shit-talking baller because that could be today. more like in a "i put on the #31 jersey" of life for the first time. and i've come to realize that in the 30 years i've put into this existence i've always been a guy who knew that loving somebody else was the greatest gift he would have to offer the world. and i have. i've loved before. i've been othello saying, "excellent wretch! perdition catch my soul; but i do love thee! and when i love thee not, chaos is come again." i've felt that kind of emotion because i am that kind of emotion. i've told them to "speak of me as i am; nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice. then you must speak of one that lov'd not wisely but too well..." except i haven't loved foolishly at all. i don't regret any woman whose ear i've whispered the words "i love you" into. or anything i've done because she believed them. "i love because i don't know how not to" and that won't change whether i talk about loving again or not.
"my story being done, she gave me for my pains a world of sighs: she swore, in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange; 'twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful." i guess what i'm trying to say is i am what i am. and i'll always be what i am. a man that wants a woman that wants a man that wants a woman. despite what i say or what i write to the contrary, i know i'll follow my life's path with a woman by my side. i'm too me to believe otherwise."
"she lov'd me for the dangers i had pass'd,
and i lov'd her that she did pity them."
othello - act iii, scene iii
