Trump admin reclassifies state-licensed marijuana
Trump Admin Reclassifies State-Licensed Marijuana
I see the headlines. I hear the noise. And somehow, it always circles back to me.
But let me be clear I’m not running to you.
Donald Trump, you wanted to be President. You reached that goal. You stood on the stage, took the oath, and fulfilled that dream. So tell me why should I feel the need to say another word?
Because I don’t.
What I do have is my own vision.
I don’t want politics. I don’t want attention. I want ownership. I want peace. I want to build something real a resort-style, all-inclusive property filled with life, music, culture, and opportunity. That’s my focus. That’s my dream.
Not this.
Not the mental exhaustion.
Not the pressure.
Not the constant feeling of being watched, analyzed, or pulled into something I didn’t sign up for.
I’ve been pushed to the edge mentally before. And I refuse to live there again.
There are things that weigh heavy on me names, memories, moments that don’t just disappear. Devonte. Kobe. Pain doesn’t fade because the world moves on. It stays, and sometimes it speaks louder than anything else.
And when it gets loud, I don’t run to politics I run to healing.
Yesterday, I bought herbs. Not for attention. Not for a statement. But because I needed to ground myself mind, body, and soul. That’s what this is about for me: survival, healing, and peace.
So when marijuana becomes the headline, don’t twist it into something bigger than it is. Don’t use it as a signal, a trigger, or a way to pull me back into conversations I’m not trying to have.
I’m not responding like that anymore.
If I have something to say, I’ll say it directly like I always have. Whether people agree or not has never stopped me before.
And let’s be honest I’m not hard to reach. I don’t need stages or spotlights. I can pick up a phone, send a message, or handle things privately like an adult. I don’t chase attention.
What I did ask for clearly was access to resources. Real ones.
Support for a woman-owned business.
Loans. Grants. Equipment. Operations.
Not charity. Not handouts. Opportunity.
And I didn’t send that request.
Why?
Because I’m not begging.
Not you. Not anyone.
So if the question is what triggers me it’s not headlines. It’s not politics. It’s not even you.
It’s exhaustion.
I’m tired of being tired.
Tired of the noise.
Tired of the pressure.
Tired of feeling like I have to respond to things that don’t align with my purpose.
Because at the end of the day, I know what matters to me.
Building something meaningful.
Protecting what’s mine.
Finding peace in a world that doesn’t always offer it freely.
You asked what means the most to me?
My life.
My family.
My sanity.
My future.
So while the world debates policies and headlines, I’ll be over here choosing myself.
And that’s not up for negotiation.
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