all i really wanna do

i love Othello. i truly do. it's almost three in the morning, and i just finished my essay, and guess what? writing it was amazing. it felt great. it's eleven pages at 1.5 spacing, and it's not even that good. i lost sight of the topic halfway through. i just rambled and let myself enjoy making connections. the whole play is just riddled with connections, plot circles, parallels, references... i can't get enough of it! watch camille hate it... in an odd way i really want her to. i want to write another one.

i remember hearing in middle school about dorks, geeks, and nerds; they were people who liked books and computers and old t.v. shows and didn't know any new music or watch t.v. it was simple, really; avoid picking up those traits, and you'd be fine.

i guess that makes me a dork, then.
it's so worth it.

my eyes, fingers, and back are killing me, and i can't feel either of my feet.

did i mention that i love Othello?
how anyone can not love it is beyond me. it's a pure work of art, a pure masterpiece. i don't particularly like any of the characters, really... although i think if i were a guy i'd probably develope a Desdemona thing. if.

even the word is beautiful. Othello. It's even fun to write.
Othello. Othello. Othello.
I would be so happy to do nothing but read Othello for the rest of the semester.
Othello. Othello. Othello.
print the damn thing and go to sleep.
Othello. Othello. Othello.
pain shooting up my back.
Othello.