All Cried Out: Remembering you at the hospital.
And listing out things from today and recently. Please let me carry this forward with my siblings, please, no matter how difficult.
Maya Plietskaya. Lift your ankles. Ribs in. No space between your legs. My grandmother called me this morning. I learned she was a cook at Fort Benning for decades, 40 years or something. That is an army base in Southern Georgia, and this is my paternal grandparent. I do not have the living circumstances I desire. I’m working to get there while being the older sibling, one of them, and NOT the leader of the pack like I want to be. God let me slowly like a Kenyan marathon runner come from behind. We will talk about this too, gender-based violence on African girl/women athletes.
Please let me find support for my siblings when I am trying to make it myself.
Please.
I am on my meal break and I almost got sent back because I forgot a work vest. I forget sometimes and usually there are random ones in the break room. During remodeling, nothing is around now.
Also, how do I talk to a sibling when they don’t want to have anything to do with updates on my father or these relatives. Yet these are pieces of me.
You see, the girl wound, by the way. A cook. And there is more in the conversation that showed this but it is a one on one conversation I will not say everything about I guess. She was a cook. She has no real desire to graduate from high school. It sucks having to accept that people are okay with this.
How can I wear these things? My Director. Trying to keep myself afloat financially. A place I don’t mind living in but where I want to move forward from. Not knowing if modeling will work out or anything. Any of my goals when again, of my siblings, my girl wound I try to articulate but sometimes silence is the best I can do!
But back to my mother.
She was sick in a hospital associated with the University of Southern California — could a girl/woman like me get into a school like this? I don’t know. Yes she can/could.
She was sick and we thought that maybe she could get a heart transplant. Which was naive considering 1) the condition her body was in for surgery and 2) that an organ transplant list can take a very long time to be on before a donor can offer an organ.
It was pretty bad. I remember listening to a song outside on the hospital grounds called “All Cried Out” by 112 and Allure. Both groups were well-known in the 1990s, and 112 I remember was from Atlanta, I think. But still, I like their music now too. I wish that groups like this existed again, like girl groups and boy groups that sang beautifully to well-written music.
We were staying in my uncle’s apartment in Southern California.
My sister lives in Los Angeles too.
So the next thing that I will write about is staying in my uncle’s place. I need to go now and work on the next planned item. Maybe take notes from yesterday’s dance lesson. And then get to the next line item.
Let me go now. So much to do.
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