There are some moments where it feels like there's nothing more I could ask for from my life. My weekend was great. I spent a lot of time with a lot of different people doing a lot of different things. My last sentence could've been written by a 5th grader, but it gets the point across.

Yet at the same time all this is going on there are moments when it seems that no matter how much I have around me, it's not enough. This weekend has also seen quite a few people I know hurt, both physically and emotionally. As happy as I am, I also feel helpless.

I've decided that if I could have one super power it would be the ability to show people the good in themselves as well as in everything and everyone around them.

With that power I would be able to show all the people I know who are depressed and sad and hopeless that life is worth living. I'd be able to make a thirst for life flow through their veins with the force of an ocean wave crashing on the beach. They would be so swept away that the bad feelings which had been taking them over would be destroyed.

With that power I would be able to show all the people I know who are left questioning their life and their worth and what they're to do next that they are wonderful human beings who have all good things coming to them. With this new confidence in themself they'd see that the things standing in their way now are small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. They'd know that no matter what they would succeed in whatever they wanted because they are who they are. They'd see that having faith and confidence in yourself is invaluable because if you don't believe no one else will.

With that power I would take all the people I know who are at war with someone else before their enemy. I'd stand them face to face looking each other in the eye, but through there looking deep inside to see the real nature and value of the person before them. In doing so there would be a new respect and understanding between them that could never be broken.

It would be the most remarkable ability. I can't imagine how great it would be to know I was able to make a real difference. All I do these days is tell people that I'm there and that it will be alright. I'm under the impression I'm not particularly good to talk to. I'm under the impression I'm quite bad at making any real difference at all.

But if I could do that, I could fix almost anything....

Captured At:2322

"Again, and again, rain down on me..."

I have yet to determine whether I'm the only one who checks the mail, or if I just happen to be the one who always checks it on days when lots of people want to send us junk.

I am also unable to comprehend how Liz can buy me one pair of pajamas, and the repercussion is 8 Victoria's Secret catalogs in 2 weeks. That's including the two that were in the box today.

I wanted to take a second and thank all of you who sent me positive responses to the last entry. Some were quite unexpected, but appreciated nonetheless. It's what keeps me going on those days I want to crawl back into bed and say to hell with it all.

Liz told me she was talking to a friend of hers and saying that there's this dark cloud that hangs over us. I suppose, in a way, she's right. It does seem like every time we turn around there's one more person picking a fight with us.

As I write this I think of the lyric "dark clouds may hang on me sometimes, but I'll work it out." I didn't have it in mind when I responded to her, but it definitely fits.

You see, I told her there may very well be a cloud hanging over us, but that no matter what's happened we haven't been struck yet. We never know when or where the lightening will hit, but we've yet to be burned. Somehow we always come out of it.

The current events that drive her to say those things have yet to phase me. Perhaps it's because I made my feelings on them clear last semester when I decided I would no longer put up with it. They can say it's my job to do so anyway, but I've already done everything within my power, there is no end in sight, and I've lost the will to fight over such trivialities anymore.

Let the dark cloud stay where it is. Let it rain lightning from every direction. And when it has hit me in what it feels is a satisfactory manner it will be shocked to find that what it's been focusing on isn't me, just a dummy to keep it occupied while I go on with my life.

Captured At:1803

What is it that compels people to write? Even moreso, what is it that makes them take this desire to write and do so on a forum as public as the Internet? And this desire, is it therapeutic or narcissistic? What is it these people are trying to say, or not say?

I've never been much of a writer, so I wonder these things.

The above statement is not a joke. It's only over the last few years as I've been posting to this page that one could even attempt to say I'm a writer, and even then I don't believe I'm all that good.

So why do I do it?

At first I think it was because I stumbled across another page and said, "Hey, that's cool," and set myself up. I've had this thing for as long as I've had a published website that required any amount of effort to create.

I've been at it for almost 2 years now. I have a small following. I try to keep my posts to something other than "Today I did this, then I did this, then I did this, then I did this..." Sometimes I'm more successful than others.

Some would call me dull. Some would call me psychotic. Some would call me insightful. Some would call me angry and malicious. Others...well, they'd just call me bec.

Therein, I believe, lies the real answer to why people do this. They do it go give them and other people insight to them self. They do it as an outlet for all the bad and occasionally the good things that happen in their lives. And they throw it all out there into a place that's so public that anyone could find it, yet so private that few ever do.

Fortunately for me, some people I know and have known feel this same push to go online, throw some text into a box, and hit the send button just like I do.

I recently paid a visit to the online journal of a high school friend and was amazed to see the short paragraph written there sounded so much like one of my current friends it wasn't even funny. Nick showed up and the first thing I said was "read this. It's ____, not that they wrote it, but everything they're saying, that's _____."

I can't help but wonder if my current situation is an indirect way of paying my friend back for everything they did and all the times they were there for me; a time when nothing I was going through could've ever been as bad as what they were going through, yet they were still there; a time back before I knew how to be a friend. And maybe, just maybe, that's why I know how to be one now.

Captured At: 946

Do you believe in irony?

Back at the beginning of the semester Nick took me over to Marcus' place. He was having people over to play dominoes and I got a lesson in a fine Caribbean tradition.

Apparently I held my own pretty well that night. Or, as it's been pointed out to me, I did more than hold my own. I actually won some games and totally screwed over some of the people I was playing with.

But I'm not posting about dominoes. That's really irrelevant in this case; it just sets up a scene.

In my experience Caribbean people like to talk trash, especially about dominoes. Before we left Nick jumped in saying stuff about me and how I'd never played before and did such and such....twice! And having heard enough of this I piped up and said "I just have to say one thing. You can talk all you want when you're the one who does it."

This came across as a major slam that apparently Nick has since gotten harassed for, so on the way home I had to explain the reason for my statement.

It comes down to this, plain and simple; I don't like people talking me up. I have no problem with people who want to point out their, accomplishments so to speak, as long as they leave me out of it. If I choose to engage in conversations like that I will do so, but if I choose not to I don't need people doing it for me. People forget this about me, but I'm still quite shy.

On a separate front, at the end of last semester a debate was sparked about people who are involved on campus versus those who are not. The student who wrote the initial editorial slammed anyone who is a member of a campus organization. I considered responding to this and decided not to. The next issue there were responses from three different members of the "greek" community on campus.