Hello, poker. It is I, Haseeb. I have returned.

It's been a long time. Since I got hacked and had to reformat my computers, I moved back to Austin, had a flu for about 3 weeks (during which time I courageously decided not to see a doctor because I'm an idiot), and started back up my school again. During all this time I have done no pokering. None. None at all.

Not even a little, Haseeb? Not even a hint? Not even a teensy weensy bit?

No, none. Nothing. No reading 2p2, no talking with poker dudes, no coaching, no pulling up poker client to see if any matches are going. In fact, went so far as to not respond to any PM's or reply to any poker-related e-mails. By the time I had spent about a month away from poker, my poker machine sitting in a box in the dining room, untouched, it occurred to me: "Hmm... I'm not just lazy, am I? I'm trying to avoid this."

It's not surprising I suppose. The last quarter of 09' was absolutely brutal to me, running like shit and getting wrecked, and topping it all off with getting hacked. It not only beat down my confidence, but the whole hacking thing left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. Poker didn't seem too interested in paying back any debt to me. Ironically, due to some fortuitous piecing arrangements I actually made a little money in the fourth quarter. What to make of that, I don't know. Poker has a weird sense of humor.

The time I've spent away from poker has gotten me rolling a lot of things around in my mind. The reason why I wasn't in a hurry to come back wasn't just because it's a ton of work (sessioning, 2p2ing, coaching, CardRunners stuff, writing stuff), and it wasn't just a simple reaction to a downswing or anything like that. I've begun to realize that poker is taking on a different meaning for me. I'm no longer the same person I was two years ago. Poker is changing, for almost everyone. The vicissitudes of the declining poker economy are slowly eroding at our conceptions of what it means to be a poker player. Online poker is a grittier world now than it was two years ago. It's getting uglier and uglier with each passing day.

Here is the insight that occurred to me most poignantly: my love affair with poker is over. It is no longer my obsession. No more in a quiet moment, does my mind secretly drift to poker. I don't crave it anymore. That's not simply to say that I don't enjoy playing it - I've thought that to myself many times before, but I've never mustered up the momentum (or financial irreverence) to walk away from it. Deep down poker always sustained me - even when it was hard, in a way it was easy.

Being great at poker is starting to feel meaningless. I don't need it anymore.

What am I saying? I don't know. I'm certainly not saying that I'm quitting. Maybe I'm just saying that I'm as boring as the rest of you, maybe I'm saying that I'm just another dumb kid who occasionally plays cards. Maybe I'm just on an emorant, maybe I'm trying to breathe out my frustrations. Maybe I can see my relationship with poker clearly, and maybe I can't see it at all.

I don't know. I'm back, so I'm going to be writing again, doing videos, playing, coaching - all that. Playing most days of the week, studying the game, trying to push my way back to nosebleeds. My goals haven't really changed, just my mindset I suppose. I'm going to be re-opening my doors in coaching (so feel free to message me if you're interested in coaching but were holding out). There are still some things in poker that I haven't done, and some content that I have floating around in my mind that I want to produce for CardRunners.

Poker is a whore. We all know that poker is a whore. And yet, the first time a whore gently brushes your arm, or gives you a warm kiss on the cheek, you find yourself excited, fascinated. But if you get wrapped up deeply enough with one, it's easy to forget - whores make terrible companions.

Do I contradict myself? Very well, I contradict myself. I am large; I contain multitudes.

Fuck me, fuck me.