Skip to content

Recent Articles


Good Person

Does doing good things make me a good person? I know that many books have been filled with this topic but I have been struggling with this idea for a while lately. My friends are all good people who care and try to help but all their efforts to make me feel better end up making me feel like I am that much more of a non-good person.

I don’t think I am a bad person but I feel that I am no where near the good person I try to be. Perhaps I spend too much time trying to improve myself and not enough time appreciating myself.


Fighting Words

A fellow RA came into my room today in tears. After crying for a while, she told us that she had responded to a noise complaint and the man who was responsible used his size to intimidate her, as well as make her so uncomfortable, and unsafe, that she was brought to tears.

I am a rather large man, I am 6’4″ and even though a strong wind could knock me over, many friends have told me I can be intimidating. Using my size to intimidate someone who is trying to do their job is an idea that disgusts me. I can not understand why people feel that just because they are bigger they can harm those who are smaller.



It has been many months since I have posted here. I would like to say that I was too busy or that I lost access but I can not. The months that have pasted have been honestly good to me. I have found many friends, true honest friends, I have gotten better grades in my studies, and have had many character building moments that have changed me for the better. Still, if I am going to mention the good moments I should also mention the bad. My girlfriend of almost two years cheated on me with me best friend. I no longer speak to either of them but my family still does which has lead to many awkward moments. In the end, I have had a rather nice time the past few months, even with all the difficult things that have happened.


Helping Hands

What do I always jump to help others out. I am sitting at a desk on call at my work even though I wasn’t supposed to work this weekend. Why? Because I jumped when my friend, the new guy, said he couldn’t. I volunteer before he even finished asking. I don’t want to be sitting here. I don’t want to work on a Saturday night. So why do I do this to myself?

My consular has told me multiple times to stop being so nice and willing to help. The person who is supposed to make sure I act decently in the world instructed me to be more heartless. What does that say about me?



Has anyone else ever realized the importance of music?

Throughout my life I have hit many low points, some not worth mentioning and others that helped to define me as a person. In these low points I often found myself listening to music late at night. Sometimes it was the music that convinced me that waking up tomorrow was truly worth it, other times I woke up just to listen to music again. I remember days were I felt almost emotionless until I put on music. When the music was playing I would lip sync the words, play along on air instruments, and often letting the world fade away and the music become all I knew.

Even in the waking hours, I would listen to music and let the world fade from my mind. I remember the rides with my father where he would rant about my “attitude” toward life. I would focus on the music playing on the radio and do my best to not take to heart what he was saying. Much of what he did say pushed me back to my night music.

On a complete change on notes, every time I am in a good the first thing I want to do is blast music. I want to dance, sing, and be a total idiot, all in beat with the song. Many of the songs I dance to are different from the ones I lip sync to at night, however some are the same as it carries enough power to be both. These songs both lift my soul when I am down, and carry it on high notes when I am feeling like I could take on the world.