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To me, this was living large—but of course, it wasn’t. At 20 years old, I’d pull up to my apartment in my 2000 Cadillac STS, sitting on 24” Giovanni rims with a 15” drop-down TV in the ceiling. Just sit there. Engine humming. Smoke curling from a blunt. I’d find myself thinking about life, staring at the faded paint on the building or watching the light catch th …

Summer was in full effect. The country boys were deep in their next harvest, and I was stacking money like never before. I was 20 years old, turning 21, and for the first time in my life, I felt ahead. No more struggling to eat. No more counting dollars at the gas pump. No more holding my breath every time my busted car hit a pothole, praying it wouldn’t break down. For the first time, money …