Time is truly the great enemy. It's not the great healer, it's the great stealer.
Sometimes I write with music on, and if I'm in a good flow, I don't even hear it.
Sometimes when I don't want to cry, I cry. And when I want to I can't. It's subconscious. Like sexual performance.
The problem is, your ego sometimes tells you that you can do many things. But sometimes it's best to stay focused and be honest with yourself.
From the time I got dressed in the back of a deflated, flat-tired, fish-smelling station wagon for Rocky. It's always been do it yourself, kind of like paper-clip it together.