I just love writing. I love to write about love making. I love to write about love. Struggles. Faith. Patience. Relationships. Affairs. Lovers. The rise and the fall of life and love. There’s so much to learn through words. Through experiences. I write to live. I write to love. I write for passion and romance. I write for him. I write for me. I write to always remember. I write to never forget. I write to document. I write to feel. I write to hurt. I just write. I just love writing. It’s everything to me. It’s an escape. It’s a fantasy. It’s realities. It’s a life outside of my own but it’s still mine. I write to make you feel. I hope I make you feel. Something. Anything. I write to reach. I write teach. I’m a writer. And I am so in love with the art of words.
The hospital is full. As always. I’ve been to the ER 12x today and each time I was given the opportunity to thank the most high. To give him praise. To rejoice in his name. Four patients coded today. Four didn’t make it today. I was there in their moments. I was there with hands clenched and sweat dripping down my neck. I can handle a lot. I’m strong enough to rule to world. It’s just in certain moments such as these I’m reminded just how small I am in His world. I remember small arguments I let grow, the moments I could have said yes but instead I said no. Times I gave up in the dark when all I had to do was just ask for help. This hospital has matured me. Has aided in my self progression. Has given me the ability to remember to love everyone; the wrong doers and the ones who try to diminish my light, fade me out. Throughout the day I pray 3-4 times. Because I am able to leave every night to go home. To sleep. To love. To eat. Whatever the case is, I am able to go home. My tears dry and words are exchanged but I am able to go home. My patient said that to me the first year I began working here and I still remember those words…
Written: January 16,2014
30minute breaks never suffice for mental restoration. Working non stop, dealing with doctors and angry nurses and trying to manipulate situations between coworkers and patients is exhausting. But nonetheless every single minute is used, wisely. Thoroughly. Today has been by far a great day, never mind the fact the hair has been on fabulous but as the most high as my witness, the amount of laughter that’s been heard throughout the day is just beautiful. Voices fade off, trail off and just become nothingness but laughter stays ringing. Down the halls I hear families keeping each others spirits up and it’s sweet and pure and genuine. My god does it bring sunshine on this gray day. Languages not familiar but laughing is universal. Hands locked together, tears rolling down faces because grandpa farted as he went to reach for his teeth. Kids hiding behind curtains, mothers yelling for them to stop but they just respond with giggling. Nothing matters in these moments and nothing should. Questions turn into jokes as patients attempt to understand procedures and it feels as if things will be ok, just keep laughing. It’s 9:13pm and I’m reflecting on the events of today over some green tea and I can’t stop smiling. I attempted to explain to my coworker who is 62, about all this pressure on my vag and she replies “aye, mami hang it in the bathroom and pick it up before you go home,” I laughed so hard. She told me a patient exposed himself to her and said “mami it was huge!!”…All day, despite the drs and nurses with their attitudes, we’ve been laughing. It’s been a feel good day. An amazing day to make someone’s cheeks hurt or become sore or form abs from the life experiences you’ve learned but turned into something humours to share. Any day is a good day when you make someone laugh. I’ve learned to value just how important it is to just laugh. My patients have taught me this and life has been an awesome teacher, taking my tears of sadness and making me understand what you can’t control either laugh at it and let it go or worry yourself sick and stress…. It’s been a really great day.
Written: January 8, 2014
It’s from challenges/obstacles that the true self emerges. I am stuck and frustrated at this moment. Look, sometimes I accomplish things that I have no idea how I did it. No idea. No words to guide. No recollection of movements. Just going with a feeling. I managed to create something with my hands and I wanna be there again. But doubts and frustration are clouding me. I’m trying to just move. Just move. Flow. There’s something missing. I’m at this table hoping for something. He’s tryna move me but it don’t come from other people. What’s meant for you comes from you. It’s about discovering yourself over and over again. We all have hidden talents. You’d be surprised at what you can be and become. You just have to ask yourself:
Do you believe in yourself?
Then prove it.
Written: June 18,2016
It was such a struggle today for me to get my ass up and go to the gym. I come home emotionally drained and I cried. What’s wrong? I couldn’t tell you. I cried and then took an hr nap. I woke up begging myself to get motivated. Finding the strength to begin to inspire yourself to move and to be present is hard. It’s extremely hard when you’re battling something you’re not familiar with. I just wanted to sleep. And be nothing. Have you ever wanted to be nothing before?? I pulled the blanket over my head and just thought of all the things I needed to get done before the end of the night. And I crawled away from my responsibilities. Resorted to old ways where just the thoughts of all the things I need to accomplish put me in a state of panic with me not believing I am capable of anything. I just laid there, wallowing in nothingness. That’s not me. I can think back to when I was such a fighter for myself. What’s happening? I am not sure what is going on but I dragged myself down the three flights of steps, walked to my complex’s gym and sweated. I sweat so much my eyebrows came off and were on the back of my hand. But I felt good. It felt needed. My body was releasing whatever was contaminating my spirit. My back was drenched. My damn legs were sweating. I just kept thinking about how bad I wanted to give up and I kept going. I kept pushing. I kept adding more and more weights. I created challenges. I pushed myself this evening in the gym. Once I got home I made a list of things to-do and did them. Pushed myself some more. Completed my orientation. Worked on my financial aid. I did this while cooking my food. I have got to learn to be softer with myself. I did more than I expected of myself and I made sure to write.
There has to be more than this. There needs to be softer ways for me to love myself.
Or I am going to have more days where I struggle and I am not sure if I’ll be able to find myself strong enough to go again.
What’s going to be the change for me?
I’m having to relearn how to be fearless. How to just be in the moment. I was thinking about this on the way home from work today. The best times to ponder on all your past mistakes always seem to be either during starry nights or orange skies on your way home. I have so many fears about just letting go and watching the universe have its way with my life. The unpredictability. The unknown. The anxiety. My blood pressure. It all heightens. I’m choking. Drowning in my own fears. I try to trace back memories of when I became so scared. Of when I grew into this shell where words torment me. Since when? Since when have I ever been afraid of what others may say? When I came out almost 10yrs ago, I was proud. I mean proud. Hand in hand I am walking with my woman and here I am! Look at me! No fear. No shame. Life has a funny way of wearing you down. Breaking you down. I think the fear began when I realized dreams don’t pay bills. All I had was just dreams of writing. Never turned them into realities. Never executed my initial plan. Life made certain to raise the awareness that unless there’s action behind your words ain’t nothing gonna get done. And all I have are my words. And the fear that, that’s just not enough. I’m working through this. I really am.
What’s becoming the most quoted phrase from me this is:
“What a life, right?”
Artwork: Pasiphae Plate 2, 1944, Henri Matisse
I tried something different with my makeup today. A softer look. No eyeliner. Bb cream. Mascara. Pink lips. A little blush. I liked it.
Today was just…. Idk. I have a child on the unit who poops in their hands and smears it all over their self and walls when they get mad. Another future ring leader came in tryna recruit young girls in the never ending sex trafficking community. Vicious cycles. Sweet little girls. Rough lives. And it’s these young girls that I want to affect. The ones that have endured the sexual trauma. The horrific nights. The nightmares. The waiting for someone to save them. I watch them level the facility and just pray for them. I’m not where I wanna be or should to help them yet. Technically I can’t.
He says my hearts too big to be in this field. But this is all I’ve ever wanted to do. I have a side hustle of course, but my heart is right here.
One of my girlies said to me the other day that she wants to be like me. She says I walk like I own the place and I look like a supervisor. I told her it’s all about the way you carry yourself as a woman. That shit made me feel good y’all. And it just pushes me. Someone wants to be like me. Knows nothing about the paths I’ve walked but wants to be like ME. Ya’ll wtf??
There are many ways the Most High speaks to you and guides you. You just have to LISTEN.
Written: June 13,2016