Writing is like eating: you ingest stuff, and then you shit stuff back out, and the shit is never as good as the consumptions that lead to the shit in the first place.
“Hey, look at this apple! Looks delicious!” (greedily eats it; shit comes out) “Hey, what happened to that apple? Where did all of the things that made that apple great go? Why did I turn something great into something terrible? FUCK.”
But the hunger never ceases, and you’d die if that were the case.
Such is the life of the creative.
Metaphor. (Yes, I realize that what I used is, like, a simile).