Meet Motha Fukin Wagen

I have to get this off my chest. Some of this may be a little raw or intense. For those that have grown to know me personally, you know there is plenty of that in this soul.


There are definitely cuss words, and I am not editing them out.

Today, call it multiple personality disorder or some consequence of wrestling with all the demons I have, but today you are dealing with Motha Fukin Wagen.

Many of you are familiar with Wagen. He’s a good guy. Reflective, likes to party, is curious, some may say “cute” “handsome” or “intelligent.”

Now, Motha Fukin Wagen does two things: parties you harder than you have ever been partied before, or he’s a wild animal. A killer. Soldier. All business. Not afraid of anything. I’m a Son of the Revolution. I haven’t really had to use force except one or two times, and guess what? I won. I don’t regret it. I wouldn’t change it. I am not a violent person, but I believe in the 2nd amendment, and I am not going down without a fight.

Over my dead body, and over my dead body only.

Now that we have that out of the way, I miss my wife and best friend. Sure, I wish I had been treated a little better, or feel like I was heard, but it’s hard living without her. That’s not peace. I could go up to Colorado, play in the big leagues, make tons of money and connections, and eventually come back to Texas ready to excel and what I have trained for my whole life…

…but without her I am nothing.

I don’t know. It’s all so confusing. I cry endlessly, even in public at events like, Chronica, where I am having fun, I am just hurt. The mental and physical medical issues already make me feel like half a person, now it’s like being cut down to nothing. It’s like a harvest, but with no yield. Just pain, anger, abandonment, regret, feelings of insufficiencies, and love.

Lots of love.

Sure, I could find someone else that wants to stand up for the down-trodden, the homeless, the disabled veterans, the suffering children, the minorities, and the arrogant, privileged person. I could find another liberty-lover, but my first wife will always be that, and I understand that lots of people end up having to accept that, move on, and find someone else, or live life in the single lane. I can accept any of those fates, but I know the one I want.

I want her.

But I have this mission. There are lots of sick people that need quality medicine. I can feel the burden of all the veterans that survive combat, only to come home and end their own lives. I think about all the people that we have lost to cancer, diabetes, suicide, epilepsy, and I literally feel the weight of this burden on my shoulders. I know lots, but I got to get to Colorado to DO it. For real. No ounce here, ounce there, grame there, gram here bullshit. Hell no. I’m doing pounds of weed and pounds of wax, and I’m ecstatic about that.

The green rush is here. I can’t sit by and watch it roll by without me. That’s a wave I need to ride. A wave I feel morally obligated to participate it, and one which I know will be a fun and fulfilling ride.

I can’t do without this, either. It’s tough to choose, and I don’t think it’s fair that my wife and her family have given me this ultimatum — cannabis or her.

There are other subjects like this, but this is the only one I feel comfortable talking about.

It’s like I am getting everything I ever wanted EXCEPT my wife. It hurts. It sucks. We are rushing this. I have gone along with it, but I am not giving up that easy. There are always phone calls, long weekends, meeting in the middle somewhere and catching a hotel.

Both of us need to treat each other better and learn to live and let live. Sure one of both of us has changed, but that’s normal, especially for intelligent, research-oriented individuals, but that’s no reason to end a marriage. Sure, it sounds good on the hard days, but without her is more difficult.

Sure there were fights. Sure there is a dark side in Motha Fukin Wagen, and I have no doubt that my wife is very familiar with him. He scares her and I don’t blame her.

Some called him possessed.

Some have called him evil.

Some have called him crazy…others a maniac.

The government and others have/do describe him as a strong leader. This is all I’ve ever wanted to be…a leader. Call me conceited, but when I read history, even as a small child, I thought to myself, “I want to do that. I want to be a war hero, a famous entrepreneur, writer, or a president.”

Those all all acceptable answers when you are a child, but when a 30 year old says these things I have noticed that many give strange looks, at least for me. I guess many don’t believe I can make it at that level. I am not sure what part of my credentials says otherwise.

“Check my resume, [homie], my record’s impeccable.”

I’m used to it. I may not make it. Maybe my dreams are bigger than my resources. Oh well. I know a man once that said this:

“I have a dream…”

And he changed the world.

That’s my goal. I’m coming out of the closet. I’m here to FUCK UP the status quo and throw a wrench in this God damn monster that we have for a government/society. I can never forget him in particular, because a close friend of mine was murdered on Martin Luther King day, making this time of the year even harder.

For those that study astrology, I’m a Cancer by solar and a Gemini by lunar. I’m convinced that I will never be understood until long after I’m dead. I’m fine with this. That’s why I keep writing. They say, “The one who writes history is the one that won.” With technology and the free flow of information, history is being written, not censored. We are winning this war where it counts, by the water coolers, in the parking lots, around fires, in living rooms, and in the digital-sphere. Big shoutout to all my digital warriors. Keep holding it down.

Freedom is ringing.

With every hit off a rig, every blunt that makes it’s way through a party, with every weapon that changes hands and affords another person the opportunity to put food on the table or defend themselves and their loves ones. For those that are killin it, growing it, blasting it, cooking it…keep soldiering on. We are winning this fight, and I have a strong urge to keep putting pressure where we need it the most…ground zero.

I am not abandoning anyone, not even my wife.

I am getting to the safe zone. I am growing in my career and life goals. They need passionate caregivers and young bucks interested in local politics. With all the passions that I have, those two goals will remain my focus.

I signed up for one of their bullshit wars. Now, they bring a war to me. Motha Fukin Wagen reporting for duty. Let’s fuck some shit up.

MFW, over and out.