Jade looks at the open notepad in front of her. It's empty; she has yet to write a word past the cover page, simply titled _Journal_. She doesn't know what to put in it. The dictionary definition of a "journal", or a "diary", is clear enough: a log, normally private, in which one chronicles events and emotions for future record. She understands the logic and the purpose behind it. It is the journaling itself which Jade cannot fathom. She stares at the blank space, feeling like she will never think of anything to put in it. She feels it must just be more difficult for her than for everyone else. There are millions who make record of their thoughts every single day; surely they don't all run into the same mental barrier Jade feels is in her own way? But she knows it's no use comparing her process of writing to that of the idealized author who actually knows what they're doing. There's nothing to be gained from pouting about taking longer to reach a flow of writing than she imagines other people must. But she doesn't want to just accept that she is slow at journaling, either. She knows she will inherently get better with practice, and that the obstacles in her way are temporary and will lessen in time; but this doesn't satisfy her striving to understand _why_ writing is difficult for her. She wants to understand why so that she can piece out how to get past those more effectively, how to target the root problems. She knows she is probably naive for thinking there even is any such way to target any such struggles directly, but... she hopes that being aware of what is in her way will let her at least tweak her methods of journaling to head toward lessening them. If nothing else, it would at least give her something to write about. Jade sighs, because she feels she is intentionally being obtuse with herself, metawriting about what she could do to improve her journaling before she has even truly begun in the first place. She knows that is false; her writing _about_ writing (about writing...?) is still at the end of the day _writing_, and it is practice as valid as anything else. But it doesn't feel as though it is. She feels her writing might be meaningless, at least one layer removed from reality far enough to erase any introspective value. She can't objectively decide one way or the other; in trying to do so, she realizes she really just _wants_ to write something that is closer to reality. Something which more directly reflects her feelings. Maybe there is no objective logic behind it, but she knows she _feels_ that is the sort of writing she wants to put in her journal.