"DON'T BULLY ME"
"LIES BULLIES TELL VS TRUTH OF THEIR VICTIM"
All characters are fictional. This is a fictional story video. I am concerned about high rents and the elderly losing their benefits in this dystopian nightmare. I am seventy-five.
Verse 1
Morning coffee, empty hall
I keep my distance, through it all
Small talk fading day by day
Got my reasons why I stay
(Oh, oh, keeping to myself)
Chorus
You don't know my story
But you sure love to tell it
Think you've got me figured out
Well, let me spell it
I'm not what you say I am
Not what you say I am
(No, no, not what you say)
Verse 2
Three degrees upon my wall
Worked two jobs, I gave it all
Nine-nine-nine is what I make
Every penny that I take
Goes to keeping me alive
Still I hold my head up high
(Oh, oh, standing tall)
Chorus
You don't know my story
But you sure love to tell it
Think you've got me figured out
Well, let me spell it
I'm not what you say I am
Not what you say I am
Bridge
Put your words up on display
Twist my truth another way
But I know who I am
And I won't break, I won't bend
I've been down this road before
And I'll rise up once again
(Yes I will, yes I will)
Verse 3
In my room, I find my peace
Let your judgment finally cease
Every chapter that I've lived
Every struggle, what I give
Makes me stronger day by day
Watch me as I find my way
(Oh, oh, finding strength)
Chorus
You don't know my story
But you sure love to tell it
Think you've got me figured out
Well, let me spell it
I'm not what you say I am
Not what you say I am
(No, no, not what you say)
Outro
I'm not what you say I am
(Let me tell my own story)
I'm not what you say I am
I do not care if people know I am low income. It is obvious. I paid 550 when I moved in with Vicki, and now I am responsible for 972 out of my 999 checks. Thousands of elderly people are in the same boat. I am not playing victim. I am just sharing my reality. Rents are skyrocketing and I am tired of realtors and developers trampling over people for profit.
I have worked hard, juggling jobs to pay for my education, and I am not a slacker. I am just trying to survive. Vicky and I clash because I believe in kindness and equality, while she belittles me. I am looking for a new place because I want peace, not verbal abuse. I am not ashamed of my situation. I am just living my truth.
I will keep moving forward one day at a time.
WRITTEN & PRODUCED BY
VICKI LAWANA TRUSSELLI
About the Creator
Vicki Lawana Trusselli
Welcome to My Portal
I am a storyteller. This is where memory meets mysticism, music, multi-media, video, paranormal, rebellion, art, and life.
I nursing, business, & journalism in college. I worked in the film & music industry in LA, CA.
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More stories from Vicki Lawana Trusselli and writers in Poets and other communities.
"MS. MIRIBELA PEREZ"
This is a fairy tale of sorts. This is a fictional story created my brain from a dream I had the other night. All characters are fictional, and the content is fictional as I have vivid dreams. I decided to share this dream. IT IS NOT ABOUT ME OR ANYONE YOU KNOW OR I KNOW.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 11 months ago in Poets
I Am Here in the Evening Light”: Finding Meaning in the Quiet Hours
There is a particular moment in the day when the world seems to pause. The sun hangs low, shadows stretch longer, and the noise of daily life softens into something gentler. “I am here in the evening light” is more than a poetic line—it is a state of being. It speaks to presence, reflection, and the quiet power of slowing down in a world that rarely allows it. In an age of constant urgency, the evening light offers something increasingly rare: space to breathe, think, and feel. The evening light has long inspired artists, writers, and thinkers. Unlike the sharp clarity of morning or the harsh glare of noon, it is forgiving. It blurs edges, warms colors, and makes even the ordinary appear meaningful. Streets look calmer, faces softer, landscapes more intimate. This daily transformation reminds us that perspective changes not because the world itself shifts, but because the light through which we view it does. A Time Between Roles Evening exists between what was and what will be. Workdays end, but night has not yet claimed the sky. In this in-between space, people often feel most themselves. The expectations of productivity loosen, and the pressure to perform eases. It is during these hours that many reflect on their choices, their relationships, and the paths they are walking. “I am here in the evening light” can be read as a quiet declaration: I have arrived at this moment, carrying the weight of the day, but I am still standing. For some, it means survival after difficulty. For others, it is gratitude for another day lived. The phrase does not shout achievement; it whispers presence. The Science of Slowing Down There is also a physiological reason why evenings feel different. As daylight fades, the body begins to prepare for rest. Cortisol levels drop, melatonin production increases, and the nervous system shifts away from fight-or-flight mode. This biological transition encourages introspection. Thoughts that were pushed aside during busy hours resurface, sometimes gently, sometimes insistently. Modern life often disrupts this natural rhythm. Artificial lighting, screens, and nonstop notifications blur the boundary between day and night. Yet many people still feel an instinctive pull toward the evening calm—watching the sky change color, taking a slow walk, or simply sitting in silence. These small rituals reconnect us with an older, more human pace of life. Evening Light as Metaphor Beyond the literal, evening light functions as a powerful metaphor. It can represent later stages of life, moments after loss, or periods of transition. Unlike dawn, which promises beginnings, evening light acknowledges what has already happened. It does not deny hardship or regret, but it frames them with gentleness. To say “I am here in the evening light” may mean: I have lived, I have endured, and I am still capable of noticing beauty. There is resilience in that awareness. Many people find that after setbacks—failed plans, broken relationships, or unmet expectations—it is not grand optimism that heals them, but quiet acceptance. Creativity and the Golden Hour Photographers call it the “golden hour” for a reason. The evening light reveals depth and texture that midday hides. Similarly, many creative minds do their best work during these hours. The mind, no longer racing, begins to wander productively. Ideas surface not through force, but through openness. Writers often describe evenings as a time when words come more honestly. Musicians speak of melodies that feel closer to emotion than technique. Even those who do not consider themselves artists may feel a creative stirring—cooking thoughtfully, journaling, or simply imagining different futures. Being Present in a Distracted Age Perhaps the most important message within “I am here in the evening light” is presence. To be “here” is not guaranteed anymore. Minds are often elsewhere—scrolling, planning, worrying. Evening light invites us back into the body, into the room, into the moment. This presence does not require meditation retreats or dramatic lifestyle changes. It can be as simple as noticing how the light falls across a wall, how the air cools, how sounds change. These moments of attention ground us. They remind us that life is not only lived in milestones, but in quiet intervals that hold just as much meaning. A Gentle Conclusion The evening light does not last long. Soon it deepens into night. That impermanence is part of its power. It teaches us that calm moments must be noticed while they are here, not postponed. “I am here in the evening light” is not a statement of arrival at perfection or certainty. It is a humble acknowledgment of being present in a fleeting, beautiful moment. In a loud and restless world, that may be one of the most meaningful declarations a person can make.
By Fiaz Ahmed Brohiabout 8 hours ago in Poets
Comments (1)
I'm a little confused. Vicky?