This letter is for that girl fifty years ago.

You may feel like the world is against you, but that’s just a momentary perception. This letter is for the young woman

that was fifty years ago, at eighteen. While society has evolved, the emotions and struggles I faced are still relevant today and emphasize resilience and identity.
Your individual experiences are crucial. They offer powerful insights into the past that shape our understanding of the present. I share my story to empower you, reminding you to recognize the connections between past and present as you carve your own path.

Forget about your looks—they will develop over time. Look around you; harness the beauty of nature. Those wild aloe stalks you see today will become invaluable in the beauty industry.
Aloderma Pure Aloe Gel is a fast-acting moisturizer that restores your skin’s natural hydration, delivering intense moisture for a plump complexion. By 2025, this will be a key ingredient in many ****** products aimed at reversing aging.

People may laugh at you now, but you will rise to embody the beauty of a goddess. We were wise and adventurous in the face of the unknown. Be brave and strong

Remember, you are sheltered under the blood of Jesus.
Read Psalm 91 every day

Theresa's Quote:**
"To the black hairstylist: Again, I will say that you are a blessing to these women and a blessing to this hair.

Black hair is a heaven-sent gift that helps black women keep their heads held high in public."

I prefer the black wig B1; it suits my complexion and looks convincing.
This is about her internship in Washington, D.C. During her college years, her health fluctuated. She spent two weeks traveling from Maryland to the city, all while searching for a place to park her car.
Before boarding a train to Washington, she majored in political science. Some stories are best left untold, but not this one. It eagerly reveals itself through my poetic sense of humor. Poetry writing is not only about rhythm and rhyme; it can serve as a voice of reason, a therapy session, and a means of soul-searching as our fingers work their magic.
A Black woman’s hair is often viewed as off-limits to outsiders. Her numerous wigs are her crown and glory. Her extensions tightly squeeze her natural hair, which she ignores for the sake of beauty. Even with a low-paying job, she carries herself with grace. Even if it means using the same wig repeatedly, she secures the B1 bob cut with bobby pins.
On that Friday afternoon, her school credits were on her mind. Her career path and every little thing weighed heavily on her thoughts. Even her romantic life took a backseat. As she headed toward her car in the parking lot, she searched for her keys in her bag, thinking of ways to beat the bumper-to-bumper traffic back in Maryland.
As she opened her car door, she noticed a well-dressed man in the adjacent car watching her. He looked attractive, and her instincts kicked in. Was he checking her out or being creepy? She offered him a faint smile.
Just as she was about to get in, her bobbed wig fell to the ground, exposing her messy natural hair. Embarrassed, she quickly picked it up and closed her door, silently asking herself, "What just happened? Why did my wig let me down?"
Second chances seldom come along.

The main road lies dormant, its houses seemingly asleep. But at 6 a.m., life bursts forth in a flurry of activity. The heavy traffic that streams towards Jack in the Box Gully is relentless, a so-called alternative route. No rest for the weary, as the relentless tempo of modern life takes its toll.
Balance seems irrelevant, and human feelings are an afterthought. Desires dictate actions, indifferent to the residential nature of the area. The fact that children under ten live in these houses is brushed aside. The sheer volume of vehicles, the multitude of auto loans, and the presence of underage drivers paint a picture of a society disconnected from reality. Public transportation is deemed unfit for their island, relegated to third-world countries in their minds.
Are these the Gen Z rebels once more disrupting norms, or simply indulging in youthful mischief? One day, we may have to take to the skies like birds, as the ground becomes increasingly perilous. The Ministry of Transportation's generational stance—whether a Gen Z, a Millennial, or a Baby Boomer—seems irrelevant as all grapple with the impact of modern conveniences on the environment.
The choices of today inch us closer to harm. The cacophony of life is set into motion by the decisions of fools, and the cost may be our very planet. As the sun rises, the moon still holds its place in the sky, a symbol of hope for those who still believe in miracles. For the people of my country, let us hold onto this hope.

The Story as I Understand It
Leonora Speyer

In my opinion, I understand the story. From biblical times to now, as I write a little note to Leonard Speyer, I believe that Eve was misled by Adam all along. Adam was approached by the Serpent long before Eve came to the Garden of Eden. The Serpent knew that he was no match for her, so he intended to bring her down. Her looks intimidated him, and her beauty was unmatched. Beauty without brains is a myth; she had what it took. Man is weak because he is easily influenced by external temptations and lacks the strength to resist them.
The apple in the garden was for showmanship. It wasn't real. Did they mention if the birds picked at the apples? From experience, a bird would pick at the apples, so if they did, they sinned too. There were nine of us in the home. My mother would willfully leave money, food, and other stuff to tempt us to see which of us would eat it or take it, knowing it was forbidden to take things without asking permission. Today, women are being blamed for the weakness of men. The more the blames, the stronger women become. The apple was just the key to the knowledge of good and evil: curiosity kills the cat. The apple was the way out of the garden to go and seek. Those two were the Gen Z of biblical times in my opinion. Adam and Eve were considered the pioneers or trendsetters of their era.

Whatever is good is divine,
Whoever chooses wrong is entwined with evil,
Let the foul pollute themselves,
And those who lie, let them continue their tales.
Bad liars must have good memories.
Today, my passion is my solace,
It helps me navigate the madness around me.
It only takes one, two, three to trigger my anxiety.
"The thoughts you resist persist," they say.
With the positive energy I hold,
I greet you all with a hearty welcome and a smile,
Letting you know I appreciate every one of you.
Whatever is good is divine,
Whoever chooses wrong is just evil.
My life is an open book, revealed in my poetry.
Some seek plastic surgery to better themselves,

I improve my mind with my writing.
Words are my friends, surrounding me.
As my broken heart aches, my writing improves,
Like a crying baby given a lollipop.
At times, the sound of rain calms me,
Lying awake won't help, but the tick-tock of rain might.
I choose my words carefully,
For manufacturers lie at times,
And one size doesn't fit all. Because the manufacturers lie at times
All sizes don’t fit all.

What the birds know today is that I am not there
Funny as it may seem,
those birds and I have something in common
We are always looking for something,
What puzzles me the most is when I put out food

They appear from nowhere, chirping and calling for others
To come to share the food.
They are fascinating creatures,
I think I have hyped them too much by feeding them a lot of sugar:
However, I loved how they picked the leftovers.
And in a nanosecond, the food was gone.

I am back in the cold once again,
I truly missed those birds outside my door,
They do not need to migrate south.
And most of all they don’t have to select
Or regret voting for a president
In their defense, each of them appears to be a leader.
Who leads Birds of a Feather?

A violent rushing wind crept through my bedroom window,
bringing the Brooklyn air and the smell of fumes.

It's not a good combination at all.
When will I learn that the young Gen Z is more frustrated than us baby boomers?
When we are in bed, they are up all night.
When we are fully awake, they are about to lie down.
When we try to reach out to them,
They get annoyed easily.
Should we fold or unfold to the madness of this so-called new generation?
Fold to the madness of the new generation.