Get up, get up, get up and get it.
Gotta survive, Exercise.
Got nuff foods, ital moods.
Good morning rub my eyes. Again I rise.
I woke up next to two beautiful girls.
Then I walk the block.
Praise the most high; beautiful skies.
Om Numah Shivaya.
Still I rise. Still I write.
5 am in North Vancouver, British Columbia
Clouds in the sky. July 5th 2025
I sit at the computer with a coffee as I did 10 years ago when this blog began. This time I’m not homeless using the Starbucks wifi. I paid my internet bill yesterday. Its weird because I remember those days like it was yesterday. As hard as some days were, I was queen of the Yukon Shelter for quite some time. Thank you Yukon for giving me a place to sleep. A place to collect myself and get back on my feet. And thank you to MPA Society for all of your help since way back when I was a volunteer.
Thanks to all my supports from shelters to charities to doctors and my own families; I’m holding it down like a success story for addiction, I pray I can continue on; striving for my own liberation.
Things are definitely different now. But I always have to remind myself how this all began. And give thanks. That’s all.
-Nina
Let my words saturate the net
The wet web never forgets
I build this manifesto
I build this legacy
Page by page
My page is an entity
Her guests on wordpress suppress the wild emotion
When I’m done on here It’ll be as deep as the ocean
Poetic prophesize wild eyes asasination
Somehow slippin by slap on wrist given probation
Free mind at last alas 3 years sobriety is like a vengeance
Powerful poetry resembles a grand entrance
The devil ran his fingers down my spine…
Whispering “Don’t you want to play like we used to baby”?
He sits beside me and pours me a glass of champagne
Sparkling in the candle light…
The drink seems to whisper as well,
And like a dream I lose focus.
Staring at this omen to my past.
“Can’t we return”? Says the Devil.
His fingers running down my spine…
And I remember…
As the champagne dances before me
Seduction has always been his art
Falling in love with the Devil
While he slowly tears my life apart.
Good morning.
I’m a little sleepy this morning. Not sure what to write. Onto coffee number 2 lol… That’s funny. I’m just waiting for my girl to wake up. I feel like good days are coming my way even though it seems like the world is falling apart.
Its been so cold lately, especially in the mornings. Ive got my space heater running in the bedroom so that I can hibernate in there soon.
On another note. Now that I am sober…. Not homeless or facing homelessness… Why do my journals not feel so important. Is it simply because I am safe? I don’t know. Hmmm…
-Nina
“Is it time”? I ask them.
And I ask myself… “To give up”?
They always answer “No, It is not time”.
I also tell myself “No, It is not time”.
For whatever reason being…
I carry on.
“It is not time”.
Seasons change: Rain to snow, and clouds to sun.
I move from place to place.
Starting new lives in new worlds.
“It is not time”.
As I grow older I know I must carry on.
When it is time to go: my heart will no longer beat.
I will leave this place: or I will return.
Until my last breath: I will not give up.
“No, It is not time”.
Its good to be alive.
I thrive, Mind mine most of the time
Plus I fly; Slide when its time to ride.
Back into a place of nature and creation.
Walk about; You dont know what I’m talking about.
And thats okay.
I breathe with the words of the trees and I…
Write just for me. So comfortably.
Rise up by myself; So I’m in good company.
My space is my temple, A place thats so gentle
So many things I can get into.
From video games to graffiti.
Black book pages with a pencil.
Sobriety and prayer protection; its my selection.
So much ital; thats vital, brings about so many blessings.
What am I writing for and fighting for?
Does it matter when I can die tomorrow?
So live for the day.
Righteously despite the sorrow.
Give me the strength to carry on.
With the torch of life.
Hold it tight and I’m moving right.
I want to live long, live strong.
And give it all.
Everything I got. Forget me not.
As the plot thickens.
I remember those lost getting.
High just to get by.
Not me tho’ I got my eyes open.
On the prize scopin’.
Here’s to high hoping.
I wont forget em. Keep it lifted.
Cause sky is the limit.
Manifest all of my visions.
Peaceful sleep and awake with ease.
Move words on pages like I have Telekeniiii-Sis.
Slide into creative form you can adore.
When it comes to rhyme; its always time for more.
I’m like a solar flare creating an aura.
Awareness clearness, un-scared I open Pandora.
I find bliss in emptiness, what do you wish?
Manifest destiny gives me a kiss.
Blessings upon blessing contest with the never-resting.
Not flexing, Or am I, What is my ego still repressing?
I dreampt about my homie last night; and the night before
It seems like we kind of came from the same world
I am tired this morning: I take a sip sip
But these dreams they make me straight trip
Are you trying to send me a message; or teach a lesson
Trying to remind me of something that I’m forgetting
Or maybe your just on my mind a lot
I think about you a lot; its true.
To me; you were kind a lot. So thank you
I invite you into my dreams, if it helps
An escape from another realm, and we can chill
I’m sober now, but we can crack brews in my dreams
And when I close my eyes we can go anywhere; or so it seems
So with that being said; goodnight homie
I’m thankful for your life; thankful you got to know me.
-Nina
Rest in Peace Rush The 2nd
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