Picture this. An 18 year old, high school senior being tasked to come up with a senior quote before they graduate. Seems pretty easy, right? Well, imagine you are an 18 year old senior in high school whose mind never stops creating stories, poems, and letters. My senior quote literally popped into my head on the way to school one morning. And I live by it every single day.

“Live Your Dreams and Never Give Up.”

Dear Unsealed,
My faith keeps me sane.
There are many twists & turns in my life.
I will be 75 on September 18, 2024.
As one that goes before
Gen Z and other decades I have many stories to tell
As deep as an old wishing well.
I worked at The LA Times,
All day every day.
I met my kid’s dad,
Which turned out to be very sad.
He did not work there.
His twin did.
I met Jekyll & Hyde, I did
But blew it off,
Threw salt over my shoulder for a start.
Neither were in journalism or writing or art.
They were both security guards.
Oh lordy!
As an empath I dated a narcissistic guard
Who pretended to care,
Wined & dined me.
So, it would be
I was so naïve.
Well, that would be I had two C-Sections.
Both were ten pound babies,
One was born 1983,
The other was born 1987,
The year before my mom went to heaven.
This was a marriage of two boomers in the 80s.
The father was from south LA.
The mom is from North Hollywood,
Of her own hood.
I am of worldly DNA.
He is a Black Republican narcissist.
He is a gun loving nut.
He is a woman hater.
So, when I found out he lied to me profusely everyday
Along the way of the everyday
Way, we trod to different roads and ways,
Of how I was so naïve.
I was into college and looking forward of being a reporter soon.
But he manipulated me as a man into marrying him.
He wined & dined my parents under the moon
In REDONDO BEACH pier,
Only to smear
My mom’s name after she died of a massive heart attack 1988.
When he told me he hated my mom & glad she was dead
I cried for days.
My heart was broken that day
I found out he was cheating on me,
It had to be,
More lies!
I traveled to Palm Springs with my boyfriend. I left the boys at their dad’s mom’s house. Upon arriving back to my Burbank apartment, I found out my ex, the kids dad and his twin had locked me out because I vacationed in Palm Springs. I cried for hours.
My plan was to pick the boys up from their grandma’s house. When I called my ex, I was banned from seeing them. He told me I was a bad mom. He spent over 30 grand on a divorce attorney. I spent 600 bucks on my Montgomery Ward attorney. It was a horrific divorce. I loved my boys very much, but the courts took my kids and placed them with their narcissistic dad.
The turning point was when I chose to go on a vacation with my movie boyfriend to celebrate my birthday in the year of 1989.
My ex is still trying to turn my boys and now my grands against me because I am a liberal boho hippie chick who still is an empath, a liberal, equality for all, for gun control and education for all.
I accept the fact that he is holding my personality and belief systems against me. He once told me during the divorce that he had to blame me for everything because he was perfect and wanted to keep his job.
I began with a poem and a prose as I have my entire life but the seriousness of the 1980s events changed my life more than anyone will ever know.
I continued to work in the music and film industry moving forward. I was a union rep for the IATSE at Universal Studios Hollywood, worked freelance for three newspapers, and continued my educational pursuits until I was 51 years old.
However, when I told my grown boys the truth, they were angry with me, calling me a liar. It did not end well. Now my ex, my two boys want to shut me down politically and as a human being. This is probably because I tell the truth, and you do not push a narcissist into the wall because they sting like a honeybee and dig into the person spreading their venom across states and other humans. I have been in therapy for many years. I am much better now. The turning point from being a good mother to becoming a bad human as my ex called me in 1989 was shocking and like a horror film.
I watched a movie from the 80s called, “The Good Mother”, a 1988 movie about a divorced mom with a daughter who meets an artist, and her ex gets custody of the child. The movie is available on Prime Video.
I pray every day for peace, love, & understanding. I will continue my humanitarian activist ways!

Dear Unsealed,
My mottos are from my favorite lady Maya Angelou
“IF you’re always trying to be normal, you will never know how amazing you can be”
“You nay not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them”
La vita è bella
I want to share
To the world
The big ball of Earth
Spinning in the sky
My looking forward poem that so relates to my favorite lady poet, Maya Angelou as it similar to my motto of moving forward through the storms.
I found this poem I wrote in 1967 or 1968. I suppose I was beyond my years at that time of my life’s journey. I found out one must ‘carry on’ through the storms that our universe sends us or that we casually ‘bump’ into along the roads we choose throughout our lifetime.
Despite the nays and the ‘you can’t do that’ or ‘you are not college material’ suggestions from a friend of yesteryear. I was already in college, so I tossed her suggestion away into yesterday’s trash bin. Because she knew not how or when or where or what she was talking about.
There are different roads to choose as we reach each decade of our life’s journey in time. I chose the road of different avenues and boulevards along the straight path cause’ I was curious. I don’t regret studying nursing and healthcare. I don’t regret studying union management. I don’t regret studying journalism, art, and film. Now I have so many stories to tell. I have so many songs to write. The avenues and boulevards I strolled down off the beaten straight path taught me lessons to remember in my next lifetime of creation and light.
So, I will share my poem from my back pages of 57 years ago in another time period before computers, cell phones, and AI. Each decade presented a new chapter in my life of fun, work and strife. I don’t look back and say how bad I was for different relationships or different guys in my life each decade. We all meet people along the way. Some people will stay. Some people will go. That’s life in a ‘nutshell’ with detours; the good, the bad, the ugly and the absolutely beautiful scenarios that happened that make me laugh, cry and ‘jump for joy’ in time and space of our universe to live, love and spread light.
“LOOK FORWARD”
Written by Vicki Lawana Trusselli 1967
It’s been a long life,
Had a whole lot of learning.
Had a good time,
But there’s still that yearning.

There’s been bad times
When the way looked dim
I prayed and hoped for better.
Yes, I prayed to her or him. (“God is omnipotent of all genders.”)

Tears have come and gone.
Heartaches I’ve had great,
But each new tomorrow
Opens a new gate.

This gate is bright and shiny.
This gate opened my heart
When I’ve gone wrong
To help me make a new start.

The dark clouds appear,
To which there seems no end
But pray and hope things will change,
That they want be like they’ve always been.

Look forward with a smile
When the end seems near
Don’t give up hope
Just dry that tear,

For your life will change
When you hope and pray
And try and try more each day,
Just over the rainbow there’s a brand-new day.
La vita è bella

It started with your love of movies and books,
You will read at lunch ignoring the looks,
Mesmerized by the punch line , climax ad hooks,
Diction, characters, performances that shook.

You struggled a bit with word composition,
Was it your honest young views or rough diction,
But when your mind meshed with your creative fiction,
It may take you as far as jurisdiction.

Today your composition is better than all,
You now stand and write books while I stand and walk tall,
Sorry for the long buildup, no more talk,
A youth with books under his name is no ball.

Sady Lady, reporting to you live from 2024 and I came back to 2012 to give you the official tour,
of your life as we advance with some spoilers. I heard you’re the big 1 8 and in good fashion, I’ve come to report that you have found your passion.

Is it a designer? No, that’s too flashy. Perhaps a biased journalist? No that’s a little too sassy.
You went for a more reserved path but you enjoyed the process, you take your overthinking and put your non-verbal skills to the test.

While pursuing a Central Pennsylvania secondary education, you went through one big obstacle that left you wondering if this is really your station.
It was your first “failure” to start your freshman year, you even started to wonder “damn should I even be here?”

However, through the grace of Jehovah, you found another avenue to explore. You were still a tech head, but you learned the origins of the first motherboard and it wasn’t a bore.

Even though you weren’t ready to program yet, majoring in the technology adjacent “computer forensics” was your best bet.

Since you were a kid, you loved puzzles and electronics, who knew in your adult age you’d end up learning the “phonics.”

Binary, hexadecimal, Encase, and FTK, are some of the software that helped you along the way.

For four years, you learned the ins and outs of the ever-growing advances technology yields . Alas! Your senior year came around and you had the opportunity to show how skilled you were in your field.

Dr. Barrett gave you an independent study to do research of your choice. It was like she read your mind, and your dream of studying the inner-workings of the famous SONY PLAYSTATION 4 allowed you to share your voice.

10 weeks of research, reporting, trial and error, you produced the final result and became the bearer of all your efforts in front of a crowd. While it was nerve racking, you had to give yourself a bow.

Fast forward to 2024, you are still present to write about your dream, and I hope this poem gives you some gleam.

What you learn is that success isn’t always a likely occurrence
However, the knowledge you gain should give you reassurance.

You even took up a new hobby writing about your inner interests and thoughts. Even found some cool recipes to put in your pots.

All this to say to the younger self, achieving your goals won’t always be available on a book shelf. Never look back and your future looks bright. Always remember to say a prayer a night. Even when the journey looks dim or blue, you have a great future ahead of you.

Sincerely,
Cece circa 2024

It’s been a while, I am a bit rusty at this. Please forgive the errors and step into my shoes for the moment.
I’m an insomniac. I have been, for most of my life. I never understood quite what caused it, but it stated in my early childhood. It started and stemmed from Fear.
Most of the time, it starts out with tossing, and turning, thoughts in my head running out of control until I can no longer stand the pace in which they are going. I roll, and I roll, toss, and turn, then I grab my phone, and I scroll.
As I scroll through the many stories, posts, and automatic ads, I see all of the beautiful people, living their beautiful lives, the screen before me stops at a writing contest.
A writing community, by the name of theunsealed. For the moment, my eyes ached and burned, I wanted to turn away, instead, I hit that button.
That button, was the very button, that led me to the greatest group of people and jumpstarted my healing journey through writing. Clicking that button, was the start of my dreams coming true. The minute that she responded to my question.
I didn’t think that I would ever become a published author, and often felt that I had let my Grandmother down. I had given up on writing in 2009 for personal reasons. In that moment, there was a spark of hope.
Negative thoughts often come with the package of insomnia. My dreams always seemed so far out of reach. I had been struggling with my past trauma, and in an instant, I was able to organize the jumbles of letters together into a beautiful story. Each of them, became my truth, my story, my power. My dreams coming true.
Each of the 5 books that I have been published in will tell my story. In poetic sadness, and in hope. Each of my entries came from my heart, and my insomnia Unsealed.
It’s a blessing and a gift. To read my words on paper. To receive the email that my entry has been chosen to move on. That everyone, is how my dreams came true! My heart will forever be filled with gratitude for all of you.
Keep writing beautiful ones. Keep writing.

Dear Reader,

While making his first day of school sign for 2nd grade, my son shared what he wants to be when he grows up. I didn’t hear him, and when I asked him to repeat what he had said, I could see embarrassment rise from his abdomen until it flushed his face red.

“Please, tell me,” I told him. Slightly above a whisper, he responded, “I want to be a basketball player.” He felt nervous about saying it out loud. It reminded me of my own stated aspiration close to his age. Growing up near the University of Notre Dame, I stated my desire to attend college there when I was nine. Receiving an acceptance letter from Notre Dame requires significant determination, but my parents taught me to trust my abilities. When you whole-heartedly believe in yourself, you hold power. Empowering yourself, practicing, and working hard become the bricks that lay the foundation of your future achieved goals.

I persevered, and despite people doubting me, I had confidence I could succeed. Self-doubt crept in, as it does for everyone, but I was kind to myself in these moments. “It’s okay, just keep giving your best. Keep trusting you have what it takes,” I told myself. I watched the commercials of young adults opening Notre Dame acceptance letters and imagined myself opening my letter. I cried while visualizing myself holding the mail I’d one day open that would say, “Welcome home.”

It may sound cliché to tell you to work hard and have faith in your potential, but how many times has the world doubted you? How often have you been embarrassed to say your goals out loud out of fear of funny looks or the worry that you’d say it and it wouldn’t happen? What would people think? Would they laugh?

After being accepted to Notre Dame, I wrote my story and shared how I accomplished my goal. My acceptance led to another fulfilled dream: for my writing to be recognized. My writing was featured in “The Secret to Teen Power,” a book that teaches teenagers how to use mindset to achieve the dreams and goals they have set for themselves. The author told me he thought my story could inspire others. I saw one person, years later, say my story inspired her to apply to her dream college. One person means the world. One person means everything to me. Inspiring one more person is my next goal, which I hope this letter will do.

So, I’ll lead by example and share my next dream: to be a published author. I’m saying it now with a mix of anxiety and deep knowing. The fear will arise, saying, “What if it doesn’t pan out?” It does scare me. I imagine your goals scare you, too. But I’ll say it proudly with a shaking voice. Will you state your goal with me? When your self-doubt creeps in, remember to say, “It’s okay, just keep giving your best. Keep trusting you have what it takes.”

I looked into my son’s worried face and said, “Then you’ll be a basketball player, baby. It’ll take effort, and you’ll need to practice daily, but I’ll train with you.”

“Can we practice now?” he asked.

Are you practicing and dedicating effort?

Do you have confidence you can achieve your goal?

I believe you can, and I can’t wait to see what you’ll do.

You’ve got this,
Rachael

Dear Unsealed,
I have learned so many things about life. I will be 75 years old on September 18, 2024. I have seen it all, the good, the bad, the ugly and still move forward with life for as long as I can live out my life with my disabilities of getting old. My brain works well, but my body has slowed down a lot since I had covid 2021.
The major life lesson I have learned is that I should not let guys talk me into fast romance or marriage or moving in on the third date. That may sound ‘wacky,’ but it truly is more helpful to not be boy crazy beginning at 8 years old. I had my first boyfriend at 8 years old. His name was Eric. He was in my second-grade class. We were friends so I thought, then he broke up with me. I ran into my parents’ house crying like a baby. Mom thought that I was physically hurt. I yelled at her, “Mom, Eric broke up with me. He told me to leave him alone. He did not like me. My hair was too curly. I was so upset, mom, I peed in my pants.” Mom looked at me rolling her eyes, tossed her head back, “My dear child, it’s going to be okay. Eric and his parents are moving to New York City next week. Eric broke up with you because he is a baby too and that is the only way he knew to move without hurting you. You have your whole life ahead of you, Vicki.” I sighed, “Okay mom.”
Growing up in eight decades, I kept falling in love and out of love not learning my lessons. My advice to the world is to continue your education. Do not let a ‘dude’ talk to you out of going to college. Do not let jealous people knock your dreams into the dirt. More than once the person trying to crush your dreams is a jealous, fearful person who does not care about you. Follow your dreams of life and focus on yourself as a woman. One needs to love oneself to fully love someone another human being as to live with another human being.
I was raped at 16 years old by five guys on the football team. I had to sweep it under the rug and try to wash away the scariest party night I had ever experienced. The guys were calling me an Indian squaw, stupid ‘whore’, and yelling, “You are no good.” I was devastated.
I kept dating men but had not learned the lesson that I did not need a man.
I studied art, journalism, Business union management, computers, and other subjects of interest. Boys were always barking up my tree. I should have been pickier or just lived by myself.
I married in the 80s. I had no plans for marriage at 30 nor to have children at that time. He swindled me into marrying him and having babies. The lesson I learned from that disastrous marriage is we had nothing in common and I should have ignored the ‘dude’.
We divorced, but I remarried an artist this time. That ended in April 2000 in domestic violence,
After we divorced, I had all these musicians barking up my alley. I followed one to Austin, Texas. I left an excellent job in computers with good retirement. He moved back to LA, and I stayed because my auntie was in her 90s and I wanted to be with her. A lesson from this is my family in Austin were strangers to me. I had not seen them in 40 years. Never move across country on a whim to follow a ‘dude’ to his destiny when it’s probably not your destiny. Check your family out that are strangers and only remember you as a little curly headed throwing tantrums child. Just because they are family does not mean they are your best friend.
I got involved with a ‘dude’ who moved in with me after the third date. I do not advise anyone to do that. I collaborated with the man.
My letter will end here as the chapters of my life are extensive with heartache, pain, joy, laughs, and life ‘happens’ experiences.
My final note to the world is, “As a woman please do not let men interfere with your beauty or your well-being. If they show one bit of jealousy or start dictating your life to you, walk away before the years pass and you say at 74, “OMG! I wish I would ‘of’ or could ‘of’ known about life before all those broken relationships of wrongdoing men ever came into fruition. Watch for red flags to not get involved with a narcissist person period.”

Dear Unsealed,
WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE
DARE TO DREAM
Since I am almost seventy-five
I will tell you a story of my life behind my eyes.
I was one to read music magazines,
All the boy bands and whims
Of rock and roll
Blues and soul
At the incredibly youthful age of ten.
Yes, I did begin to dream to win.
I worked hard.
Played hard.
I studied hard.
It was the seventies,
Then the eighties,
Then the nineties,
I worked at the LA Times in the eighties.
End of the eighties
I was working as a makeup artist.
And let us wind down there.
You might not have time to spare,
As I have thousands of stories to tell
As deep as a wishing well.
The nineties were good,
As I was forty going on twenty-five
As it seemed to a few bees in a hive.
My first dream job was The LA Times,
But I met a man and forgot to be sublime.
My second job per say
Happened in freelance journalism and film
With my new guy
And no rhyme at that time
I worked with The American Indian Movement in the nineties.
I met john Trudell,
And that went well.
We were there to interview
For a documentary film
The Palomino Club of North Hollywood
So, I have stood
In so many good places and even on a whim.
I met Sonny Bono, the Mayor of Palm Springs at a POW WOW
So how
Did I do that you say?
That is for another day.
I joined up with Women in Film
On a whim.
The nineties came along
To sing another song
I met another guy,
A music writer by trade.
My new guy took me to a special party
In Burbank,
To a Christmas party
Really swank.
I dressed up in fancy high heel boots
To walk by my guy in his suit
My dress was a tight mini skirt and top,
And all were cream of crop.
We drove there to the valet,
Then I walked into the door with my guy
Waving at friends in high places
We were sitting at our reserved table
To wine and dine at the insatiable
CMA
Country Music Association Christmas Party
Music, dancing, food, and ‘party hardy’.
I could go on to tell you more,
But I will say later my friend
Before you get bored.
MUSIC TURNS MY WORLD!
This is a tiny burst
Of my adventures of blurs
And good times
Of rhyme
Or reason
For the season!
Love is real
It’s a deal
Of the good, the bad, the ugly
Of time spans of decades
Of love, heartache, laughter, blues
Facades
Of time
To smile at my life
The strife
At almost 75
I have written a song
From my back pages of strife of life.
My song, “I Woke up Alone”
The song
Was published on Apple
A full song on Spotify
Of life, love from above
To be a woman at 75
Alive
Still rocking & rolling
To the beat.
The publication of my song
Was to say the least
My newest job of sweet sighs
Of “I did it.”

This life’s a high-thrill roller coaster ride
with climbs and drops, with loops and turns— you blink
and future’s past— it’s transience defined.

Cry.

Or don’t. It matters not, for wheels still clink.

Along the track of destiny we fly,
entrusting cars attached by tungsten links
to comfort whether plunging from the sky
or taking corners, screeching, on the brink.

There are no brakes, nor gear that’s marked reverse.

Since seatbelts won’t keep everyone from harm,
enjoy the passing scenery of Earth
and all its blurry, ever-changing charm;
remember nothing lasts— not hurt, not mirth—
so, open up your eyes and raise your arms.

I’ve had my share of dreams and goals
throughout this skyward climb—
have hustled, slaved, and sold my soul
at least five thousand times—

all rocket fuel injection founts,
plans realized or not;
ascension parted clouds of doubt
for me, the astronaut.

I soared past childhood fantasy,
explored familial moons,
then looped a distant star or three—
my focus all-consumed—

in search of true enlightenment
to sate the blackest hole;
event horizon’s discontent
demanded full control—

devouring each new career,
each studied course with verve;
I never dared to interfere,
rode stardust’s shimmer surf

until my suit was frayed and dull,
my helmet webbed and chipped;
the time had come: a glowing hull
endured re-entry’s trip.

Adventures through the universe,
though shaping, took a toll;
when fragile bones touched down on Earth,
they garnered strength from scrolls—

the very scrolls I’d long outrun,
entranced by distant skies,
so sure of fate beyond the sun—
a poet in disguise.