Sometimes I wonder if I try too hard. If I attempt to write something deep and profound and moving and end up overwriting or overfeeling. 

Sometimes I wonder if I make things way too complicated. 

Sometimes I wonder why I put so much of myself in my work and why I can't simply tell a story about mysterious, fascinating people instead of melancholy, flawed souls. 

Sometimes I wonder why I can't stick to the same thing over and over again like so many other authors.

Sometimes I wonder why I fight the system and fight the machinery and fight the rules and fight the games.  

Sometimes I look at the mountain I've climbed and have no idea how in the world I'm going to get back down. 

Sometimes I wonder when I'm going to really write something truly exceptional, then I wonder why I'm asking myself all these pitiful questions.

Sometimes I wonder why I bother to write in the first place. Then I start to write once again, and I know why. 

And all those sometimes go away, for the moment.