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The show is over.
The lights dimmed.
The applause faded.
And I was back to… this.

Same basement.
Same grind.
Same smoke-filled mornings.

But now, something felt… off.
A quiet tug at the soul. Like a ghost of something beautiful I’d just touched, now gone too soon.

Maybe it was the weed.
Maybe the alcohol.
Maybe just the weight of hard living.

But if I’m honest?

It was the absence of creativity.

I’ve always said we’re all artists, no matter what you do for a living. And I still believe that.

But back then? I wasn’t living that truth.

If I wasn’t acting, if I wasn’t creating in some form—drawing, painting, writing, performing—I felt like something inside me was wilting.

And now that the show was done, I felt like I was right back in the mud, spinning my wheels.

Back to the Hustle

Wake up.
Hustle.
Party.
Spend.
Repeat.

That was the rhythm. The loop.

It’s September now, and that means the outdoor harvest is coming in.
The same outdoor that built my foundation—it was getting ready for the chop.

Which meant?
Long trips to the Country Boys.
Big hauls.
Bigger profits.

And on top of it all—
I was turning 21.

Vegas Bound

This was the first trip of my life that felt like it meant something.
Not some family vacation.
Not some fraternity spring break shit.

This was me and the crew.

Greene.
Andy.
Ryan—one of the first cats who ever showed me how to move weight.

The plan was solid.
We booked a three-bedroom suite at the MGM, and I had $7,000 cash in my pocket.

Might not sound like much now, but for a kid from the sticks, from a trailer, that kind of money was real power.

That was freedom—even if it was temporary, even if it was illusion.

And what better place to lose yourself in illusion than Vegas?

The Machine We Built

Meanwhile, the system was humming back home.
Andy and I had it down to a science.

He had a plug.
I had a plug.
If one dried up, the other stepped in.
No ego. No greed. Just movement.

Money circled between us like a hamster on a wheel—always in motion.

We’d get the product,
Break it down,
Package it up,
Move it.

Fast. Efficient. Together.

Nobody we knew ever went without.
We kept the streets stocked like we were running a pharmacy.

And yet, while all that was running smooth,
my soul was craving something else.

I hadn’t figured it out yet,
But I was starting to feel the edges of it.
That feeling like maybe there’s more than just money, smoke, and motion.

But that’s a thought for another time.
For now?

Vegas awaits.