Sometimes I get stuck on a paragraph.
Sometimes I rewrite a chapter three times.
Sometimes I rub the shit out of my eyebrows.
Sometimes I get confused about which path to take.
Sometimes the words come out sounding right but feeling wrong.
Sometimes, a lot of times, I read books that are so much better than mine
that’s it’s like comparing my stick-figure drawing to a Kahlo painting.
Sometimes I need a whole lot of Pink to lift me out of my funk.
Sometimes I feel like I’m just winging this business.
Sometimes I feel like I suck.
But then I say
Because there’s a masterpiece
in here somewhere.
I just haven’t written it yet.