When I read about people's experiences in Japan it makes my heart throb, and I want it to stop.

My aspirations lie somewhere between going back to working at that bar in Japan while studying, and going to get drunk at a bar tonight.

When I think about what I've been through, and what my problems are, and I put it in perspective, I realize none of it really matters. My troubles are a speck of dust on a distant moon, churning slowly out in the vacuum of space. Insignificant, tiny, fleeting. But I guess reading about slavery all semester sort of has that effect--that is, it serves to reduce your ego just a bit.

Today is the day when I remember who loves me.

I feel fresh, and although I'm a little bit yawn-y this morning, I'm doing well.

It's the equinox, the first day of autumn, and my birthday. A day that used to be for receiving presents, eating cake and singing songs--a day that used to be all about me--has gradually become a day for the people who care about me; just as their birthdays have turned into days for me to enjoy, days to celebrate them on.

One year ago today I was eating sushi in Shinjuku with Franc.

My mouth is watering--just a little bit--right now.

I'm not really sure if I'm going to make it back to Japan in December.

I'm not really sure what I'm planning on for my future.

Lately, it feels like I've been living for the moment, spending the weekdays in a sleepless trance--work, class, gym, repeat--and the weekends clutching a drink, or a toilet, or both. Living for the moment, but all the while reminding myself about some perfectly polished plan for getting back to Japan, and then on to South America.

I'm not sure if I'm lying to myself...

I'm not even sure what's happening to me, but it's good and it's bad and it's kind of exciting to think about what next September 23rd is going to bring.

Life can change a lot in a year, and that's promising.

Maybe tonight someone will hold me in their arms and tell me everything is ok.