Thank You Note: For Razon

Beautiful ebony dipped in caramel
What a sweet sight to see
Never had a role model
But you are just like the woman I want to be
Genuine and kind
God has blessed the world with you
Humble greatness drizzled with confidence
Like you where put here for us to look up to
Well at least I tilt my head up to the heavens
Not only out of respect
But I too feel the boldness in your presence
I love how you're so cool with being yourself
But if I were you
I wouldn't want to be anyone else
But in all do respect
I'm content with being your cousin
Treasure you can bank on
You're something like what they call a dime a dozen
Discernment of a wise mother
But carefree as adolescence
There's understanding in your heart
You're nothing short of a blessing
And I thank God for you
Making a dream of being wonderful so close I can touch it
So I embrace you with love
As you empower my soul and think nothing of it
I call you my family
But you treat me like a friend
On a normal numeric scale
You surpass the ten
At least in my book you are definitely a highlight
An inspiration of life
And for this reason I write
For elevating a young woman such as myself
To the point where we're at a higher altitude
This is my thank you letter
Enclose is my gratitude

Born to Write

From the depths of my soul I am a writer. My greatest contribution has been letting my pen collide with paper and letting inspiration form. Since a child I have lacked verbal communication, being scared and timid to speak my mind. As I grew and my thoughts did the same I had to get them out. Vocal cords still not strong enough to project my feelings and thoughts, I picked up my pen and began to write. Every emotion imaginable filled the page: joy, sorrow, fear, power, confidence, determination, defeat, love, hate, and confusion sat in bold letters for the world to read. Here on blank pages I discovered who I am. Being able to venture through a world of words, picking the ones that best fit the mood, and placing them side- by- side to create my own universe is liberating. In some instances facts must be uncovered and trailed by my opinion, at other times, I create my own truth, leaving the world no other option but to accept it. Whatever the case may be, my passion pierces the page, and ink drains so that you may see it with your own eyes, jolting emotion to the core of you. There is nothing else I can do so effortlessly as if first nature, for it is first nature. We learn to talk first, imitating the world around us. But for me, I didn’t learn to speak until I learned to write. 

Strong, Black Woman

Strong, black woman
Conditioned to carry the world on her shoulders
Somebody give her some pads quick
Because tackling life's issues bare back is unsafe
But she does it anyways
Exposed to pain at a young age
The harsh reality caused her to callus
Second winds is the only breath she knows
Determination and preservation resulted in endurance
Though her body is sore
And mind is tired
She can;t stop
For her world depends on her
Who else is going to sacrifice good times
To cultivate that seed he discarded
Using s all her resources
To plow the soil
And plant it on good ground
Watering it with wisdom
And tending to it with love
She tries to uproot the weeds that grows along with it
This is a back breaking process
But every sore muscle, stiff joint, and aching bones is worth it
Because when that seed blossoms
Life can yield no greater reward
Her strength is not an option
But an necessity less she dies
It takes power to live this life
Not that this was her first choice
But the result of them
Everyone is foolish enough to make mistakes
But not everyone is strong enough to endure the consequences
So to her who is
My hat goes off to you
For I am the by product of such a creature
I myself Have become a strong, black woman

Do the Right Thing

“You can only do what’s right after you’ve made mistakes.” This was a post that I read and it jumped out at me from a distance. I immediately disagreed.  I argued the fact that we should learn from other’s mistakes, and the reason we make mistakes is because we are simply human. The writer of the initial post proclaimed me to be wrong. He said, “It starts from a little child. You make a mistake you feel the pain and you learn not to do it anymore.”  Only if life was so easy. If you are wise, the pain will teach not to do the action in which cause the pain. Many undergo variations of the same underlying pain without comprehending the lesson. But I was wrong. Not about my opinion (in fact that is what it all is) but I was wrong for changing his statement. He did not say that you can only learn from mistakes, rather he said you can only do what’s right after making mistakes. So in a literal sense, he is saying that everything we do will be wrong and only after we make the wrong decision can we make the right one. When you tie it in with the secondary statement that you can only truly learn from your own mistakes I come to the conclusion that we can’t comprehend other’s life lesson; we must live through each one ourselves. On the contrary, not everyone has to get an STD or presented with the decision to have a baby or an abortion to know to wear protection. Not everyone has to go to jail, lose their family, or suffer other negative consequences to know doing drugs in a bad decision. I am not arguing that we can learn everything from other people’s mistakes, but I cannot agree that we can only do right after being wrong. He went on to tell me, “the most smartest (wisest) person in a room is usually the one who has made the most mistakes in life.” Is he serious? Yes, yes he is. Once again agreement is absent between us. There is nothing new under the sun. Life doesn’t present you with that many scenarios for you to make new mistakes and continue to grow wiser from each one. We all make mistakes, it’s inevitable since there was only one perfect man and when we see Him again this life will be over. But if somebody is making that many mistakes I truly believe that they are repeating some of the same mistakes. Some learn faster than others while some are negligent to the lessons. Those who are negligent are usually the ones with the most mistakes, and in turn they are not present with the wiser men. At the end of the day, this is my opinion, not mistaken fact, but my opinion.

One Step, Two Step

I was given a test the other week. I failed. I am truly trying to be a better Christian. Live life the way God intends His children to live, but this is a difficult task. Yes, I know that I am a baby in Christ and, as so in the natural, it is only expected that I will fall once in a while as I am learning to walk this new spiritual walk. I have been crawling for a long time down the path of righteousness, taking frequent stops, and a few turn a rounds. But lately I had decided to stand up tall and take those steps towards the One who loves me. Since I am a beginner I understand that my legs are weak and that I can easily fall into temptation. With that being said, I would not want to down play the fact that I was operating in my sinful nature and this is the reason I fell. I am trying to walk down the narrow road with a bag of worldly things on my shoulder that is too broad to fit. This alone is enough to make me stumble and fall and a guarantee that I will. Now, I can shuck, jive, two- step, and electric slide up and down the road of destruction (and I have), but it time to take my dancing shoes off and out on the armor that has been outlined for me in Ephesians. And as I pick up my armor, I have to put the bag down for it is impossible to carry both. They are in direct conflict with each other and it would be insane to fight that in which you love. I profess my struggles as a sign of humility, not to excuse myself for my actions. So until I get the rhythm of righteousness and the hang of holiness pray for me strength, and even after it comes to pass pray for me perseverance. But now I will Praise the Lord for even in my struggles I AM BLESSED.

Resistance

I fell in love last night
Well, it was more like a pleasant slip into darkness
Embraced by a good time
They say the freaks come out at night
And that's why I should've stayed my ass at home
Because I was feeling free to be me
And before I knew it
He had smitten me
Intrigued me like a complex puzzle
But the mood was so easy
Kinda like a game of tic- tac- toe
How most of the time no one ever wins
But you don't really feel like you loss
We just play for the fun of it
At no expense and no cost
But maybe I did pay too much
Attention to the fact that his chest bulge
Like that battle back in history
And now I'm waring with the thought
On whether or not I should indulge
Damn temptation is sweet
And hot like fire
I wanna blame it on the devil
But this is my flesh's desire
I know I'm supposed to kill this thing daily
But I've never been a murderer
Maybe a lustful fornicator
Drunk and a worrier
And that's why I can't help but think
Why he didn't ask for my number
I mean how else are we supposed to be together
And that's the point exactly
We not now, not never
Because it's my flesh that wants to be with him
And this thing has got to die
First time in life pain before pleasure
So don't trip when you see a tear in my eye
Because to have a piece of candy in it and can't have a taste
Is enough to make you cry
But in due time the sorrow will dry
Because victory is much sweeter
And the woman strong enough to overcome this sinful nature
I have to meet her
So goodbye world
I must venture to a better place
Yes it was fun discovering good times
But now I must seek God's face

Who do You Love?

Love is long suffering, love is kind, does not behave rudely, thinks no evil, does not seek its own, keeps no record of wrong, love bears all things. These are just a few characteristics of love and Already I have fallen short. Many times love is thought of as a feeling, not an action, and even less often thought of as a commandment by God. We say I love you to countless of people who enter our lives, but how many do we actually demonstrate true love to? As I sit and write this I must ask for forgiveness from you the reader and my heavenly Father for I have sinned against you all. I am rude, mean, short tempered, and self- centered. Even with my own baby I find myself getting frustrated and/or irritated with more ease than should be. In most actions I've taken satisfying me is the end goal, either stated or implied. My positive talk can easily be countered if I am angered, and I forget nothing. So yes, I remember how many times you sinned against me and my "good name". So at the end of the day who do I love?  Not my mother, not my father, nor sister, brother, cousin, friend or child. Not even God Himself. Now that's deep. Deep like the pain I bear with this realization. But what would I expect, we were all born of mere flesh and the flesh tells us to rebel against God so why would I be any different? I have accepted that we naturally care for others, but love.... love is something we must first acknowledge that we don't know and then strive to learn. Love is a process that requires conscience thought, and a lot of repentance. I am accepting that love is a foreign action unto my flesh, but it is something that my spirit must master. So when I tell you I love you and then sin against you, please forgive me, for I am trying to learn this thing called love.

Wait for it... Wait for it....

Sex before marriage, we were all taught not to do it, and most of us rebelled. Sex sex sex. It's like the most important thing next to food, water, and alcohol. Well, really it's not. This is just the distorted picture that is painted for most youths and the picture only becomes bigger as we get older. But today, I had decided to tear down the immoral mural displayed in my mind. I no longer want to sex before I'm married. I mean, in reality, where has it gotten me. Nowhere but down the road of a struggling, single mother with more miles on me than necessary (which is none). I'm tired of letting men have joy rides with me and leaving the tank empty. Hell, I still have to make it home to tend to my child that was made in that back seat. My exhaust is exhausted. Rotating my tires and changing my oil isn't getting it. I have to park it.

I have been thinking about this for some time and I have made up my mind. I used to fear that no man would want to court me under these conditions, but I no longer let fear run me. Hell, most of the men who won't stay around without sex won't stay around with it. It's a hard pill to sallow, but with a big glass of acceptance, I managed. I recall telling friends about my decision and they were not feeling it (which is totally ok). I have prepared myself for this response from most people, male and female. "What if you wait until you are married to have sex with the man and then it ain't even good?" Wow. How many times have I heard this? My response is marriage is soooo much more than sex. Sex is just one of the physical aspects, which is not, or should not be, in the top three of importance. Yes yes yes, sex is very important, but if a relationship is based solely on this factor then we are screwing ourselves. And let me point out that most everyone has had bad sex. Not only have we had bad sex, we have had "friends" put in place for sex and the sex wasn't even that good. Why? Because we are looking for something greater than an erection followed by ejaculation. Though true, most don't realize or acknowledge this. But now I have done both, and I have comfortably accepted abstinence. No sex in the champagne room.

Holding on with Dear Life

The situation is dead
Heart is only beating due to the life support it's connected to
You decided to pull the plug
No sense in dragging out the loss of a love one
Reality rings in my ear
Flat line
Draw the curtain back
The time for visitors has passed
I try to find comfort in this time of mourning
But all that's discovered is me trying to resuscitate it
I've never been good at accepting death.

But Down the Weapon

For some time now I've been battling with a deadly disease, a killer tongue. I have reached the point in my life where I can make a wise crack out of any comment thrown in my direction. I am sarcastic, rude, slick, and quick. Quite frankly, I am excellent at talking shit. It's first nature for me, almost like my native tongue. I watched my parents use this technique of communication and I picked it up, practiced it, and mastered it. They say each generation should be better than the last and I made this no exception. When I tell most people that I want to stop with all the slick comments they say, "Why, that's who you are." Damn. I don't want to be that person. With our mouths we speak from our hearts. Why is mine filled with such filth? Such death? When I tell others that I want to change because I don't know where to draw the line between harmless and harmful many agree. "Yeah Sharree, because you be damn near offending people," is the comment that rings in my head. Why do I joke to the point where it's no longer a joke, but an offense made against my love ones? They say all jokes have truth to them and that itself is true. I am truly being rude and unloving to the ones I claim to love. My tongue is a murderous weapon aiming to beat down and kill the spirits of my people. I do believe that I am not the only one with this deadly disease of a killer tongue, but it is a growing problem within the black community much like high blood pressure and diabetes. As I take time to examine the conversations of many of my peers it seems like a lot of people let negative comments spill out their mouths like waste fields. I coldest part about this observation is that most don't even notice, or even worse, they like it. Talking shit is all fun and games to the naive mind. But what is really happening is that it's a serious problem that we find it humorous and acceptable to speak negative things to one another and no one ever takes the time to give their brothers and sisters praise. I know that today I am praying for change. I want to give life to people's hopes, dreams, and spirits. I want to put down the murder weapon and try to resuscitate life into the dying minds of our people and teach the other fools who our slaying our people. Sticks and stones may hurt my bone, but our words are killing us.

Retail Oppressed

I hold a BA in Business Management with a graduating GPA of 3.6… honors. I currently work as a cashier at a nationwide retail company. Never have I felt so much like a guilty prisoner. Everybody who holds any ounce of authority in this store feels the need to exercise it at any chance given. I am a grown woman, holding down a household and car note along with many other responsibilities, and yet they treat me as if I was a child. Hell, I have my own child to raise. Every day I go to work I am told where to sign on, where to stand, when to break, how to greet, who to call, and how to treat the customers. I feel like a dog on a short leash; heel, sit, stay, bark, roll over… good girl. Except, there is no “good girl” ever given.  No “good girl”, but they will be sure to broadcast every thing I do that is not in compliance to their own, personal desires. I do my job, and I do it well (I think I’ve stated this in previous writings). I don’t need anyone to tell me which foot to step with first, but apparently I do because they never fail to do so. And I have no problem with the owners wanting their business to ran to the best of its ability, but I do have a problem when I am hounded and scolded by management that fails to lead by example. They say customers first to me, but they take fifteen minutes to return a page. They say wok as a team, but I rarely see the people in authoritative positions get down with “us common folk” to make a rough situation run more smoothly. You know what they tell us? Work harder, lines are backing up. But then again, this is my fault. I am the one who applied for to be a cashier when I know that I am better than this. And I am not knocking any cashier or sales associate of any kind. But I, Sharree, am above being treated as if am less than. I try to stay humble and respect those who are over me. But I refuse to shuck or jive to stroke anybody’s already inflated ego. At this point, I am uncomfortable and this is the best feeling to have. With comfort there is contentment and here I have neither one. So, each day I have a goal and that is to make it through with gratitude for what God has given me, and determination to go get what else He has for me. While I am being weighed down by this retail oppression, endurance sustains me, and the end result will be a stronger me.

Loading...

Hide notes

 

Treat Church Like Your Job

My mind has always searched for the answer on why do so many people look at church as a unnecessary pastime activity. People go when they want to and use simple excuses like being tired or spending the day at the park or honestly not feeling like it for reasons not to. I am talking about people who claim to Christian and believe and love Jesus Christ. Yes, I do understand if you are extremely tired because you dealt with a fussy baby all night or you don’t feel well. How does God look at us when we use these excuses not to gather in His congregation? I mean, each and every day, for five days straight, we wake up early in the morning to punch a clock. We go to work for eight hours, or at least four, serving for a man’s company, but we can’t get up (for morning or afternoon) church service. Wasn’t it God who blessed us with the job? Why can’t we come into His gates with thanksgiving? If we partied too hard the night before we still drag ourselves into work for that little paycheck we get every two weeks, but for God we can’t call it an early night. Is congregating with your fellow brothers and sisters and learning good, solid doctrine  not important for the soul to live in accordance with God?  I guess the real question is, do we i even care about being in accordance with God? Today, we are guilty of being caught up in worldly issues and not making Jesus the Lord of our lives. Getting paid a few dollars an hour is more of a priority than pleasing God and keeping ourselves from eternal death. We need to at a look at ourselves and reevaluate our lives. Examine how we live verses how we ought to live. I just hate thinking about all the souls that will die and are dying because we treat church and God’s work like a unnecessary pastime activity.

Loading...

Hide notes

 

Fear Vs. Faith

The biggest fears about being at a turning point is not only are you turning in the right direction, but you so badly hope that you don’t crash in mid curve. Now is the time for me to make a change. I can no longer stay stagnant. Now I must finally start walking all that talk I’ve been talking. And when I say walking, I mean running.  There are things, goals, that I want to accomplish; indefinite goals. Now is the time for me to approach one of them at full speed.
I recently attended an informational to go back to school and so that I can obtain my teaching credentials. The program seems to be a very good program, but it seems just as intense: Night and Saturday classes, internship, assessments, teacher/student training, observations, not to mention… “mo money mo money mo money”. The program actually seems to be a really manageable set- up for the average student. But too bad I’m not the average student. I’m a single mother working two jobs and handling a household. When will I have time to work, go to school, train side- by- side with a full- time credentialed teacher for eight weeks, and be a mother? How will I have enough income to maintain my adult responsibilities and do all these things for school? Within an hour and a half I felt the tension building. It will be a challenge, but I am a survivor. I wouldn’t necessarily call my self a go getter, but when it needs to be gotten, please know that I’m on my way. So during these times I must remember not to lean unto my own understanding, but in all things acknowledge God. Honestly, this is a hard task but I must pray constantly because at the end of the day, I don’t know anything, and I would run myself ragged trying to figure it out. Also, we often have to sacrifice and I would rather sacrifice for a year and a half than for the rest of my life. I must go after the desires of my heart and pray that God will guide my path. This is a lot to process, but the biggest test is, will I trust God? Truth be told, my trust in Him is the only way I will succeed for I am merely man, and every good thing I have is a gift from Him. I pray that not only once I get my credential will I be able to teach, but also as I go through the process of life people can learn from me. I am an example that life isn’t always easy, but with God we can do all things. I am and will continue to be a living testimony. So as I have stated earlier, I am a learner trying to teach and a teacher trying to learn. Wish my luck… no, no, no pray that God blesses me in my endeavor.

Loading...

Hide notes

 

In the Center of Self

Over the past few days I have actually come to the realization that I am very self- centered. In almost everything… no no, in everything I do I want to be recognized. I feel the need to have someone tell me, “that a girl” or “very good” or “I like it” or of course the infamous, “YOU GO GIRL!”. As I created this blog and after having all of one post I found myself telling the world to read it. Like it’s all I wanted people to do. “Hey girl… long time no hear from. Check out this blog I started.” After about telling this to a few hand full of people  I thought to myself, “Wow. You are self- centered”. I wouldn’t ever be satisfied with simply discovering (accepting) this fact about me. I had to dig deeper. I’ve come to the conclusion that yes I am self- centered, but this is merely a side effect of insecurity. I have to constant hear how good I am as if I don’t believe it. But of course I believe it because everything about my is great. Right? Wrong; I just want everything about me to be great. Because the bad memories about pops, and brother dissing me, and cousins manipulating me, and son’s father disappearing causes a feeling that I’m less than. So I must make up for these unfortunate mishaps that happened to me and not by me. Even so, I must be great and if not great as least really good because something has to make up for all the bad that has occurred.
And on this night I sat in a store meeting hearing all the people get recognized for excellent work and for the last two years I have yet to hear my name called. Before tonight I would be confused and angry and swear it was a conspiracy. I work hard, harder than half of the names they call. I am efficient and effective and not to mention friendly with customers. I go out of my way to make sure the customers are happy. If I don’t know, I go find out or we may look together. Whatever the case is I make sure that I do what I can to satisfy. So you can understand the fustration. But tonight right now I accept all recognition. I recognize that that is my job and my pay check is my recognition. I recognize that the issue goes deeper than my place of employment. It lies within me, better yet, it stands tall, roaring like a lion. And I also recognize that the self centered attitude I posses must be put to death. In order to do that I must pump life into my esteem. So from this day forward I will be humble and quietly build myself up. While looking for recognition I was the one to recognize. Ironic.

Loading...

Hide notes

 

Strong, Black Woman

Today I read a post from young, black female that struck a cord in me. She was simply stating that while in the middle of a discussion she was having with someone they up and slammed the door in her face in the middle of her speaking. Now, I do not know all the details of the situation taking place, only what she put out, and I was forced to draw my own conclusion. I told her that it was rude of him to slam the door in her face, but us as women need to learn to be quiet. This did not sit well with her. She told me that the other person’s actions was an indication that she needed to GO OFF!!!! I was greatly disturbed. This is the usual reaction of women, especially black women. We always need to speak our minds, stand our grounds, prove our points. We feel that we have to be this strong being, not letting a man take advantage of, manipulate, or control us. But this is not the right approach. This is exactly why we get doors slammed in our faces and felt with an attitude. We should be able to calm ourselves down, think about what we are saying, and take an effective approach. This is the only way we will truly control the situation. Control isn’t who has the biggest bark because its apparent that he will just shut it out. More importantly this is a easy way to get the title bitch. Control is about who is the most effective in the situation. She told me that I would have reacted the same way, but in reality I have tried the exact opposite and was very successful. Ranting and raving is the typical, predictable response. He’s used to that and used to closing the door on it. But what about when we just shut the hell up. Then what? Most don’t know because most don’t do it. I bet he will desperately urge you to tell him what’s wrong, go within his own mind to find the answer, and give suggestions on how to correct it. This is how it should be. He’s a big boy let him put forth effort in correcting his mistakes. But no, we always have to fight because we cannot have him thinking his actions will be tolerated. But truthfully, we just feel we have to have the last word. And more than likely he didn’t here you anyways. So why not shut up? I’m not a phycologist of any sort. I am just another young, strong black woman ready to see us ladies out down our fists and stop fighting a battle that’s already loss.

Loading...

Hide notes

 

What's Missing

As I go through this change in my life, a turning point around corners I’ve never seen before, I sit and think about how much I miss you. They say it’s normal that I’m missing you, but it almost doesn’t make sense. There was a relief that took place inside of me (after the breakdown) when you told me you didn’t want to be with me, nor my friend, not even around me. It was as if I was contaminating your world. And yet I felt my chest loosen. I’m self- conscious enough on my own without having to wonder if I’m offending you, making you feel uncomfortable, turning you off. It was like all the effort I had put forth thus far to be a better person was all a facade. It wasn’t real. I was merely a sarcastic, judgemental asshole. This is how I felt I was being perceived. Wow. So what exactly am I missing? Could it possibly the anticipation to that good morning text or the phone call that took place just to see how my day went? Could it be the way you embraced me and pulled me close as if my presence comforted you? It’s probably the way you respected me now matter how bad the situation was. The way my smile made you smile which caused me to smile harder. I’m sure the way you made me feel important and as if I mattered when I couldn’t find that in other places has something to do with it. I miss the hope you gave me that good men still exist outside my brothers and cousins. Not only do they exist but they are not all taken. I miss the pleasure of feeling wanted. The daydreams that actually included a face and name instead of “somebody”. I miss the laughs, the hugs, the kisses. I miss the good times with you.  

Loading...

Hide notes

 

Can I be Me?

Why is it that every time I say I’m going to grow out my hair and where it natural there are always people who discourage me to do so? Why are weaves and entensions more acceptable than what God blessed me with? If not a weave I must at least where put a chemical on my hair to make it lay down. But if it doesn’t lay down by itself wouldn’t that imply that it wasn’t meant to lay down? Just because my hair doen’t curl, but rather it kinks should I be ashamed? Am I not as pretty being naturally who I am? Do I care less of myself if I don’t want to sit a let a man- made product transform what was God- given? I love who I am and what people say does not move me, but it boggles my mind when people desperately tell me not to grow out my perm. It’s almost like telling me that I am not good enough simply being who I am. But rather I must always try to add to myself. If women where to sit back and think about all the artifical things we add to ourselves we should be a little distrurbed. We add hair, eye lashes, nails, height, breast, butts, even color (eyes, hair, skin tone). But why are we so desperate to enhance the way we look? Why are we not more concerned with our attitudes, morals, motives, knowledge, talents, history, or spiritual lives? Beauty’s only skin deep and that’s as far as most care to look.

Loading...

Hide notes

 

What's it all about

I have had a lot of things on my mind and they have been weighing on my brian for some time now. Things that make my blood boil, my heart race, my wheels trun, and put fire under my butt. These things cannot be ingnored any longer. At least, not by me. I must acknowledge these things: thoughts, actions, beliefs, standards and speak on them or my head is likely to explode. My name is Sharree. Here I will go by Dyna, which means: power, to be able to. I feel that this name fits who I am. I am a writer and within my words I do hold power. Power to make you think, make laugh, make you cry, make you aroused, confused, or outraged. Whatever the outcome is, my words have the power to input existence into your mind. My goal is to feed you life. Life through my words and I pray that God guides each key pressed so that My purpose is served. If you chose to read I thank you now for this is put here for you. No, I am not a profound writer, nor politican, nor preacher, nor anything else with “high importance”. I am simply a single mother on the verge of 25. I am a hard working woman using everything in me to raise up a small boy in a world where he is expected to fail. I am a sinner trying to be a saint, and a saint trying not to sin. I am a teacher trying to learn and a learner trying to teach. I am who I am and always striving to be even better. So please join me on this journey called life and experience power in the written form.