Because I ought to be writing more in 2014

I started this entry, and then I deleted it all. I deleted it all, because I've got to start writing better. What do I mean by that? I mean that I've got to start putting more effort into how I express myself. There's a time and a place for free writing, and, at times (and in places) this diary will be one. Not here, not now, not today. I've got to try to put my ideas together better. Simply going through the motions and spewing whatever pops into my head onto a page is all fine and good, but where has it gotten me over the last however many years? I've got a barely readable diary of events I can't remember, all spelled badly. Lovely for a teenager. But I'm an old man now. So, we begin writing. Logically. Reasonably. From time to time.

How much time is enough to break bad habits? I suppose that depends on the habit. Amanda and I still can't be around each other without wanting to tear each other's clothes off and go at it like rabbits. Well, that was before I lied to her about Evangeline, so maybe I've finally ended that, but for a good decade after we'd first met, we were still prone to a very bad habit. Tristan and I can still reference old punch lines from high school whose setups we've long forgotten. We hadn't seen each other in three years, and we picked up pretty well right off the bat. Well, how about Michigan?

It's been three and a half years since I've lived there for any real stretch of time. Sure, there was that two month vacation, but that was more about convalescence. It didn't seem like real life or real existence. It was just a long stretch of stomach pain. My other trips? A quick summer visit, and then Courtney's wedding. So, what happens when I'm home? Will I go back to spending all of my time alone in my room with the door locked? That's what I'm afraid of, and although I know that I'm the only one with the power to alter that, it still feels like it's somehow beyond my control. At least, it feels that it may feel that way. I don't know. I've got great goals and plans and ambitions for going home. I'm explicitly going home for my health, and to study. That's THE reason I'm going. So, what if I don't manage it? What if I fail? I suppose that Napoleon Hill would tell me not to fail, and he'd be right, but what of it? It's hard. I struggle with having faith in anything, and although I'm putting (pretty unsuccessful) effort into having a bit of faith in God, I've had no successes in a long time regarding having faith in myself. Will I really be able to study two or three hours of Japanese a day to learn the JLPT? Will I really make myself exercise every day? Will I really have time for all the things I need to do? It's frightening to think about. But it's something I've got to think about. I'm leaving China for health and self improvement. Will I actually do it?

Yesterday (20 Feb), my friend and student Summer spent both hours of the class she paid for to try and convince me to stay in China. She even offered to sponsor my visa and claim I'm a translator for her company so I can stay here legally without needing a full time teaching job. I was moved. But I'm still moving. My mother is doubtful about whether or not I'll accomplish anything. That's being generous. She thinks this will be a total waste of my time. More or less. She's supportive of me coming home because I'll be coming home. She plans on trapping me in Michigan with jobs and women. Thank goodness that, so far as I can tell, Michigan has neither worth staying for. So, I think I need to make a plan. Well, I'll get on that. Soon.

Soon.