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Transgender, Writing

Journal Entry Number I don’t Know, bloop. :)

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Just waking up at 6 Am. Feeling pretty good today; in turn from sleeping nearly 12 hours I am guessing?  I know, thats a F***ing long sleep right? My day today… Hoping that my girlfriends car has the life to make a trip over to my house… we really got to get that S*** fixed! It’s ugly outside and I need her to come over and cuddle, watch movies and let me cook her some dinner. As hard as I think I am sometimes, thats kind of played out, I’ve realized I mostly am not. Probably more of a softy. More interested in warmth, love, compassion ect. and I miss her / I miss her a lot.  But no matter what she’s definitely worth the wait…

The day is so young; but I’m wide awake. Wanting time to go by just a little bit faster. Not that I’m upset, I’m just optimistic for the day. Even with a clouded sky I will have smiling eyes. Although unsure at times if my writing is worth the words written I’ll continue nonetheless, for the sake I’ll look back one day, learn from it, or cherish it. I love looking back at my art, music and videos but for the first time in my life I’m trying to take the artistic approach of writing seriously. Not in the sense that I am going in any particular direction with it but in the sense that no matter what happens that I will simply continue doing it, whatever the days may bring.

Poetry has become an intricate part of my day to day life having been reading it everyday on my wordpress feed. I love reading poetry these days more than I ever have before. Its spilled it’s way into my youtube channel and also a great way of expressing my feelings, to the world and to the people I love. I’d say that poetry, how little or how much I do maybe was always a part of me. Hip hop is also poetry and I’ve been missing that feeling when you lay down a clean 16 bars. I try to write bars everyday only to get frustrated when its not exactly how I want it to be, frustrating me and leaving me wondering if it might be more productive to just get on and freestyle some stuff out till it just sounds right. I DONT KNOW! -writers block- ?

Anyways, hope you all have a great day!

Heres a little link-pooh.

Nina – Are you listening? Slam poetry rap.

 

About me, My Poetry, Poetry, Writing

About me in-depth. Nina.

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Through the shrouded memories I take glimpses of my memories on earth; in this city I call home, it feels sometimes like I have seen it and been through it all. Even as 2 genders, a straight male, a lesbian. From a young boy to a grown woman; it is beautiful in my own eyes. My addiction to change was constant; I went from a high school drop out to a graduated mental health worker with some of the highest marks in my class. From a drug dealer to a volunteer in many of the cities outreach facilities. From a sexual exhibitionist to a faithful monogamous relationship with my present girlfriend. I was homeless countless times since the age of 15. In and out of the court system since as early as 13…

One of my first charges: possession of a controlled substance with intent to traffic. I’m a genderqueer rap artist and poet who when I was younger would never dream of going on Facebook, yet I later used it to exploit my body for the sheer rush and mass attention and exhibitionism. Never would have I ever dreamed of getting in front of a camera back in the day but now my YouTube has 111 subscribers 88 videos that I’ve produced and over 15 000 views…

Where am I going now? I feel as though I left the streets behind me… yet 4 months ago I lived in a shelter downtown. Sometimes I miss it, I really do. Many people have seen my transition as something powerful to uplift myself and other trans girls. Yet I’ve been attacked in the streets for it and harassed on many levels. I was liberated as a woman but was alluring myself towards being a working girl. Yin and yang of this life is baffling.

I thought everything in my life would stay the same. I’ve lost almost all of my personal friends. The kids I used to kick it with are long gone from my life. I’ve tried to stay in touch but maybe I’ve burned all my bridges through crime and substance, a reputation for disaster. Yet now I am… so different . It’s painful losing touch with people you considered brothers and sisters. But I have bipolar and in the blink of an eye my whole persona can switch along with a long list of social backfires that go back more years than I can think of… I was a bully in elementary school, I’m so ashamed of that and a gang mentality kid in high school, kind of ashamed at what I would do for dough; being shuffled rigorously through the system for my behavior. So the people I grew up with… I’m guessing have absolutely no trust in me and I don’t blame them.

I’ve moved on and transitioned, moved over and over again through all corners of the city. By now I’ve tried nearly every drug; having overdosed my first time trying heroin but no drug has had me addicted except the eversoavailable alcohol. I used it to treat social anxiety, personal anxiety, anxiety relating to my gender… I’m sitting in the doctors office, a transgender clinic downtown and oh so far I’ve come from an ignorant punk kid. Although the kid is still in me I use that part of me wisely; for creativity, curiosity. I don’t truly ever feel like I’m growing up but I guess that I am. How strange a thought… Have I stopped to smell the flowers?

From living in million dollar spots to sleeping on the bug rat infested floors of the projects in Chinatown or from the courtyard boxer fighting and training, smoking weed with my homies to the girl who stays home reading and reciting poetry. From the boy being abused by his girlfriend to the girl finally finding the true love she’s been looking for…

Maybe the Constance of change is the flowers. Seeing the world from all perspectives. Maybe I’m just well cultured… rather than an all over the place psychopath I’m actually someone you go to for another view of things. I’ve found peace in a cold jail cell and hell in luxury apartments on the ocean. It’s funny the way things work. You think you want something so bad you’d die for it. Something changes and you never wanted or needed it in the first place. What do I need now? I want to regain control, I want to empower myself to change my world first and then the world around me. I feel extremely lucky to be alive and I don’t want to take that for granted. I don’t want to take anything for granted, life is so precious and too short to waste. Where the fuck do I go from here? I’m so found yet still so lost… as I ride the train; city screaming by me. ..

I ask myself.

Where am I going this time?

-Nina

Poetry

I don’t know pt. 2

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Its morning again. Melancholy mood. Nujabes plays peacefully in the background. I cleaned up a little bit and had breakfast. But my mind races and wanders and races and wanders. I always feel like I should be doing something more. More for me and more for the world. But I sit here unsure of what that is. I don’t know what the day may bring. Week may bring. Months may bring and the years fly by in glorious mathematical blinks of an eye. Funny how a simple blip / second of a moment can feel so long in that retrospect.

As I write this it’s just a conversation with myself, just a mirror staring back at me in infinity. Do I want to stare into an infinite moment of melancholy? Do I want to move on in some sort of dynamic jump out of my normal day to day life? I thought I was a minimalist. I thought that I liked being alone. I thought I liked simplicity and just simply being in a moment for whatever that moment is. But maybe I don’t. Maybe my whole life is quite the opposite. A constant craving for fleeting escape from the dull normality’s of… whatever. Craving a great escape.

I make sacrifices and deals and decisions and commitments and plans but have I really. I mean really. Given the importance of my life and what I do with it major thought? I thought I had! But in reality I pretty much feel invisible. My struggle and my achievements and pain is invisible and my gifts I bring to the world invisible as well. As we all continue on our day to day endeavours of eat sleep repeat; where was our revolution? Our against the grain mentality of force-feeding truth and not the comforting lies.

We see each other grow. We watch as flowers bloom or wither away from the weathering of mankind’s poisonous corruptive abilities. Death is inevitable and I am not afraid to die. I’m just afraid to waste my time; I’m afraid to hide my feelings and I’m afraid to see my people, our people, and all people suffer. As I write this I suffer, yet I bloom as a tear rolls down my cheek…

-Nina

About me, Stories, Zen

Myself: Part. 2*

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I can’t believe I’m mustering up to write some sort of bio. Feels fucking weird….

I think writing about yourself in depth; story form, is kind of… narcissistic. But I’m a hip hop artist so perhaps I’ve already gone there… *laughs out loud*

I could remember starting up rap battling ciphers in elementary school. On the school field, upscale neighborhood acting tough with no account and if you weren’t droppings rhymes you didn’t have privilege so bounce! (I still got it lol).

I had a girlfriend in elementary school that could pass for 22… Far more grown up than I was, it’s like she took me under her wing. I was standing hardly 5’2 with the most gorgeous girl in school. I loved her but our relationship was a fool 😉 . Ing* around time flies when your high as a kite tripping with her every night, eventually we both moved on. She went off to a private school…. lost touch completely.

Meanwhile I bounced around high school public educational facilities like it was a special ability. I learned so much!!!!! How to fight, hustle, party, skate, play ball, joyride, go bombing (paint graffiti), know my way around a city of 4 million like the back of my hand…..amoung many other things that went hand in hand with blunts, coronas, and tequila.

I managed to not get involved with crack or guns, meth and heroin. Although I often spent time in what is often referred to as the world’s largest open drug market. Now looking back… I’ve lost a lot of friends to this city and I cry about it quite often.

I can’t write anymore right now.

Too hard.

 

 

Nina

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