4/3/2026 — Sick
I don’t get sick very often.
And I fucking hate it.
It angers me.
Because everything I’ve built—
my frame, my clarity, my depth, my presence…
gone.
Just like that.
Suddenly I’m tired.
Emotional.
Ungrateful.
Irritated.
All that work…
out the window.
And it’s humbling.
Because we walk around touching something divine.
You feel it at Ultra.
You feel it staring at your cats.
You feel it with your woman.
You feel it in the work.
Moments where it’s like—
God is right here.
Flowing through you.
Alive. Electric. Infinite.
And then…
You get sick.
And there’s no divinity.
Just a body that doesn’t work.
A fever.
A foggy brain.
Emotions all over the place.
You’re not a god.
You’re a sack of meat
that’s malfunctioning.
I’ve always been fascinated by this:
The feminine can overwhelm the masculine.
Not woman—
the feminine force itself.
Storm.
Wind.
Emotion.
Life.
I remember driving through Provo years ago—
winds ripping trees out of the ground.
Just power.
A reminder:
You are not in control.
Men think:
“If I get strong enough…
nothing will shake me.”
No.
That’s not how it works.
You get stronger—
and life rises to meet you.
The storm grows too.
And this week, I felt it in my own body.
Fever high.
System overwhelmed.
My own emotions got so big…
my masculine couldn’t hold them.
That was… fascinating.
And humbling.
Now I’m coming back online.
Friday.
Feeling better.
I can feel the swagger creeping back in—
“I’m good. I’ve got this.”
And somewhere deeper…
a quieter voice:
Careful.
Because a little virus…
a little fever…
and it’s all gone again.
So yeah—build strength.
Build presence.
Get sharper.
Get deeper.
But stay humble.
Because life will humble you anyway.
And here’s the twist:
That humility isn’t punishment.
It’s access.
Because art…
doesn’t come through the channel of
“I’ve got everything handled.”
It comes through the cracks.
The openings.
The places where you’re not in control.
Even sick…
something real can move through you.
If you let it.