Although I cannot relate to basically any of the events that have occurred in Nao’s life, I have found that I still can connect with her personally. Whenever I have attempted journaling or story telling the outcome looks oddly similar to what Nao has written. In elementary school I once wrote a “book” called Emily. It was a beautiful story about an orphan girl who lived in an hotel and was raised by the hotel’s employees as well as all of her friends’ parents. Since no planning went into this ten page novel, whenever I had a thought I just wrote it down and then returned to the story as I pleased. Nao seems to do the same thing. Her purpose of writing in her diary may be to tell the story of her great-grandmother, but she just continues to write what is on her mind. She continues to sprinkle in mentions of her great-grandmother throughout the story of her depressing move to Japan, but it is difficult for her to actually see past herself to focus on the task at hand. I still tend to do the same things Nao does when I write because it is hard not to write with the flow of my thoughts.