Tag Archives: Journaling

Hip Hop, Poetry

Survival. – Nina

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How lucky can I be.

I’ve survived all I’ve seen.

How many of these streets.

Nights and memories.

I’ve been paralyzed by thought.

Traps that I was caught.

Bleeding in the streets.

Many lessons I was taught.

I escaped unscathed.

My mind bathes in yesterdays.

All the different ways,

That I chose that I would play.

Cityscape playgrounds, money and indulgence.

Self destructive lust, my control was that of nothing.

How many others… survived the jungle traps.

I hope that you’ve all survived.

The things we grew attached.

Poetry, Stories, Transgender, Zen

Myself Pt. 4

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Being you.

I have no problem being myself; it took me a long time to get here. I feel like growing up I tried to be a million different versions of me or some shit, never really taking the time to settle into my own skin and spirituality. Knowing I am going to be working on me, working forever. But being yourself, your going to enjoy it. Enjoy that work.

Time is a crazy concept.

I can’t go back in time and rearrange my mentality or prevent myself from a bipolar diagnosis and frequent panic attacks, I can’t say that smoking that shit is going to fuck up your life. Picking your shit up and moving on is priceless. I have a life of constant change and that’s extremely important. I can adapt like it’s nothing in the face of everything. So this time I’m granted I’m going to try and see it for what it is; what I can do with it. Make something out of it. Lasting forever.

Right now I’m doing me.

I make my own rules and goals, positive and never self destructive. I put down the bottle just to get a grip on my own life. I caught it good this time, really moving forward and exploring sides of myself I used to be afraid of. You got to give yourself props sometimes. I love just being creative and putting myself out, there’s always something to be created, for the world.

It’s important to have someone on your side.

Someone that understands your struggles and loves you, you know? In a non judgemental way, in more of a “here let me help you deal with this,”. Followed by. “Okay good now… You got this”.

It doesn’t have to be your lover but in my case it most definitely is, I used to always feel like my battle was lonesome, no matter what my social and family life was like. I’m lucky, I’ll just say that.

Ending note.

I always say that no one listens to me. I’m full of shit cause one of the people not listening to me is me. Haha*

Or maybe not paying close attention and can’t stay focused. Haha*

So listen to yourself! What is your heart and soul trying to say to “you”; just you and not the world. It all starts within.

—!Nina !!—-

Love, Poetry, Zen

You and I; The intimate twins

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You and I.

Are perfect….

 

Twins

Obserd but sounds good to my soul to hear it, maybe the word fits.

 

 

It can be easily explained but our complexity is vast.

I love you, I don’t want you to worry about anything,

Anything you need, just ask.

 

……

 

 

We grew together, naturally and happily.

My muse, sappilly, I’m enjoying your teasie casually, cheesy sassiness.

 

……

 

Thank the universe for calming morning rainfall.

Peeling us apart is always intensely painful can make me go

awol…

 

…..

 

Nevertheless…

I’m at a place I’ve never attained

so I want this feeling forever engrained.

I was enslaved.

You broke my chains.

 

……

 

Love, spirituality: Growth;

a bond never to be broke.

Love songs.

The highest of note.

 

……

 

I want us to be infinitely intimate;

My twin,

my lover

and my biggest gift.

 

 

To L.C.

Love Nina

 

 

Buddhism, Love, Poetry, Stories, Zen

Story of Buddha by Nina Yin

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“The importance of oneself.

Should not be important at all.

In essence we are natural.

But natural is not our essence

Until we are enlightened”

-Nina

 

Buddha’s mother couldn’t get pregnant, one night she had a dream, visited by an elephant carrying a lotus, the elephant touched the side of her stomach.

The Queen was pregnant.

After Buddha’s birth he was taken to a guru.

Born into a royal family

Saddat (Buddha)  was to be a ruling king that the world had never seen….or a holy man (The Buddha) said the Guru.

His father tried desperately to hide the truth for many years, wishing he would never see suffering, and forever was to be indulging him in Luxury.

Saddat lived luxurious for many years but needed to find enlightenment, to understand his questions of life not found in self indulgence.

Saddat ran from the castle, his family and wealth.

He shaved his head and lived in homelessness.

-In Buddhism: Peace is found in poverty and without worldly things.-

After countless years of different practices and teachings.

Starving oneself for many years, practicing ancient rituals and studying….

Saddat took up starving oneself, thinking the key to enlightenment was to be without anything human to need nothing…

….he became but a skeleton…

His eyes deep in his skull like a light at a bottom of a dark well.

This was not the way.

Saddat was the most malnourished, deep in this practice.

But one day.

He got up from meditation.

He was given rice porridge by a woman walking by.

The others were shocked and exclaimed “Saddat loves luxury!”

Ashamed of him, but.

Buddha realized

There is good, in our lives, good that we need and is important.

Under a the boddhi tree sat meditating.

The Sun moved through the sky but the shadow of his tree did not move, the tree kept him comfortable,

He touched the ground connected with the universe and unto Buddha he became.

People from all over sought his teachings.

He taught for many more years to his disciples.

Noble truths,

compassion

and the way

enlightenment.

 

“It’s time for me to go”. He exclaimed.

“I will be in Nirvana”.

*Enlightened*, placing his hand to the earth.

leaving his teachings behind.

Forever.

-Nina Yin

 

Art, Buddhism, Poetry, Zen

Myself: Pt. 3

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Getting a little used to writing about myself now…

I am a self taught and self proclaimed Zen Buddhist and I’m not sure how to explain that; but it is who I am and how I like to see myself. I see Buddhism in a way different from anything I’ve ever encountered and I like to instill that aspect in my work as a blogger as much as possible.

Being transgender isn’t a huge aspect of my blogging perhaps that’s a good thing, although I would really like to instill hope and inspiration to other trans readers. I look for other trans bloggers which has been cool but it would be nice to have more in my reader to be quite honest. I love everyone and even moreso for any oppressed population.

I love reading others poetry on my feed, sometimes seeing reflections of myself or something of great value: a learning experience. I seek out artists and writers, activists and poets, filmmakers and photographers…any art can inspire me so continue that list with your positive imagination. I wish the world was more artistic and less materialistic. I find a mass amount of it in society and we should all try to change this…

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

IMG_20151105_121241_kindlephoto-87027906

 

Poetry

Writers block / The way out

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There’s inspiration everywhere. It’s as though “writers block” is simply a reflection of mood; a depressive nothingness. Have no fear and continue writing whether it is of substance or not. “Apply ass to chair” is what my teacher Fred Thorsen would say about creative blocks and distractions. Anxiety also creates barriers for writers, when those feelings aroused in me he would tell me to chug water. Sceptical I was of this method but now it’s absolutely proven (in my case) to alleviate stress. Green tea works even better! Allowing my body to flush stress and get back to work. Write even if you don’t want to write or search for that shot although your frustrated. Sometimes the best of works come from angst and frustration.

Sometimes writers can often lose a sense of their creative side, seeing everything as bland, already done, boring or pointless. Let me say this, although we as artists have passion for pen, paper, canvas and camera lenses we need more than just these outlets .  Artists should take mini vacations from life regularly, renewing and nourishing our inner artist and our inner child, exploring, learning and getting away from “it all”. Try doing something just for you. Once a week. Write daily, good or bad, paint, snap shots and keep going.

 

NinaYin

Photography, Poetry, Stories, Uncategorized, Zen

Journaling.

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It’s 5 am in the city I call home. The usual wake up time and I’m remembering my dreams as I do every night; a more fluid world….slightly terrified simply because my vivid dream world is so different to the real world I wake up to. It takes me 45 minutes to aclimatise to the new energies coming into my psyche and today it was overwhelming.

Writing is something I do as soon as I get up, they say the subconscious mind is still active. Perfect for the creative type. I have my coffee and peace of mind as the words I create slowly fill the screen. Writing gives me peace of mind. It also gives me peace of mind to be in love and fully transitioned into the woman I am today. I feel lucky.

I have an extroverted mind yet there’s a side of me attached to my lonesome creative or playful alone time; the introverted side important for my growth as a person. I hate writing about myself in a sense because usually when I come back to it I’m either disappointed in myself or something doesn’t quite feel right. On the other hand if I write in completely positive pretext about my life and situations it seems to make me happy to look back to myself standing strong in the face of danger.

Today is amazing.

Nina