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Tag Archives: Short story
Tea . A Zen Story; rewritten by Nina Yin / Goodnightnina.
A Buddhist monk who studied and meditated on the teachings of Buddha for over a decade wanted to speak with an enlightened one who dwelled alone in a small temple high in the mountains. He prepared…
1 Word Story
“Phame.”
The two coolest sayings from the A2 psychiatric ward. – Nina
I’ve spent some time locked up for being “loco,”.
I met amazing people, some completely there and others… completely gone. I had a girlfriend in one trip to the ward, fell into a sexual relationship locked up under the mental health act after she “escaped” literally… we parted ways.
We had crack dealers in the ward if you needed your fix. I met Kansr and Outlaw Ali there. Ali was my best friend when I was the most down and the most afraid I have ever been in my life.
Ali was murdered leaving my friends house a few years ago and it still really hurts… rest in peace Ali. And shout outs to TK the Kansr kid* stay bombing wherever you are.
My favorite psych ward sayings:
“The giraffe already peeked in that window”.
And
“Don’t worry, they’ve already cloned you”.
Fucking eh
Sincerely Nina
Stories from the worst ranked psychiatric ward in Canada. Rat infested, crack den, pill pushing rape trap.
3 Word Story
“I hate money.”
The rambling concrete – Nina
I’m beautiful with Audacity, “They call you Shade?!” He said. ” You’re shaded indeed…”. She’s nice with the raps. In depth, the homies in disguise he liked to say…
I’m up many hours before the sunrise to explore myself. Dreaming of fleeting escape, no longer trapped. The raindrops scatter my city and it won’t be long before I’m unseen in the masses; trainbound. You don’t need fare for the Zion train just hop on board.
I’m beautiful with audacity indeed. I love my markers and spray paint; my skateboard and my slap sticker collection of winking flowers and dripping calligraphy. My magnum markers leave them to manage the damage; I’m constantly redecorating the City.
I’ve found my comfort in the dark places and euphoric ignorance. Through the streets and alleyways, trains and buses. I watch this shit twists and turns over many years amongst this science of drug trade and gentrification . It doesn’t take long to be immune to the needles scattered along the pathways, human feces and drug trade swap meets. We got it. And it’s all for sale.
“Come here girl…”.
I found my home in the streets at a young age; my concrete playground. I’ve found… something… I see something. The streets are yours was the message written along the tattered wall. I want nothing from it, perhaps peace or a sense of purpose. Surely not money nor a drug rush, I have left such in the past.
Just “Be easy going,”.
Nina
Zen Stories : The Gift of Insults
There once lived a great warrior. Though quite old, he still was able to defeat any challenger. His reputation extended far and wide throughout the land and many students gathered to study under him. One day an infamous young warrior arrived at the village. He was determined to be the first man to defeat the great master. Along with his strength, he had an uncanny ability to spot and exploit any weakness in an opponent. He would wait for his opponent to make the first move, thus revealing a weakness, and then would strike with merciless force and lightning speed. No one had ever lasted with him in a match beyond the first move. Much against the advice of his concerned students, the old master gladly accepted the young warrior’s challenge. As the two squared off for battle, the young warrior began to hurl insults at the old master. He… |
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Tea . A Zen Story; rewritten by – Nina

A Buddhist monk who studied and meditated on the teachings of Buddha for over a decade wanted to speak with an enlightened one who dwelled alone in a small temple high in the mountains. He prepared for his journey eager to hear his teaching. After 7 days of rigorous hiking he reached the temple.
The master greeted him and welcomed him inside. The master put some tea on to boil and they sat in silence. The monk became very eager and unsettled in not hearing his teaching. The master poured the tea and sat with the monk. The monk didn’t drink his tea and began questioning his master of Buddha.
The master replied.. “You have studied Buddhism for 20 years and can not simply enjoy this cup of tea?” The monk wept…. as another step to enlightenment lay under his feet….
Nina Yin
reblogged on WordPress.com
The toy box in my bedroom. A short story. – Nina
Once upon a time, perhaps in another dimension of sorts. Or perhaps an altered reality ( a parallel to the norm which had been departed ). There was a world… it was a dark world like our own although the visions and communications to the mind lay shrouded in an unknown; as to wake up drunk in an amusement park in an abandoned ghost town. All those who enter this realm are intoxicated… euphoric… Or confused.
In this place the laws of physics are often bent, finding oneself transporting from one place to the next. Perhaps flying over the maps of which the reality created unto itself. It is itself; a living and growing place. It’s a place you’ve never been, but you have, faces you’ve never seen but it’s as though a permanent dejavu. Traveling along to its ominous melody.
I find myself in this place often. I climb under the barbed wire and war torn trenches just to see how deep this rabbit hole goes, the blood and destroyed homes visions of viciously broken families. Different tribes that dwell in this place and different spirits.
I’ve seen myself touched by the souls of the dead, although strangling me and taking my breath… killing me, I and only I entrusted with Devine powers to to speak amongst the spiritual realm…and flying across an infinite ocean. I wish I could go back to those times in this place.
This is a violent place, mostly deserted I have been killed, I’ve killed, had sex many times. I’ve been killed many times in this place and seen life simply placed back into my chest. Leaving me unsure if death is real. There is no contemplation here, too much fog for one to adress mathematics once arrived.
I found myself in horrific post war slums, a child with no parents… There was a mattress and toy box. I’m around 5 years old. As the box opens…I’m not sure exactly what these toys, these memories, they see me, they all see me. You see it was me in the the box. Everything I’ve ever known. In this box. In this place.
When one finds themselves in this place… it can be dangerous. To see light amidst the fog, is… blinding enlightenment, a simple light; it’s as though the heart you use in this place stops beating but… There is no heart. You are always …Gone or missing… One thing is for sure, you are very much: alone.
Of course there is a way out, isn’t there? I think as you are reading this you might be beginning to understand. The subconscious; the infinite abstract of emptiness in form. Not simply the universe seeing itself. Not simply an imaginary delusion of grandiose proportion. That little voice sketched in your head… that lingering feeling in the back of your mind….
Nina… it’s time to wake up…
I was about to cry; Then I felt the universe. -Nina
Sitting alone it’s pitch black before the dawn.
Stars in the sky.
I have had my issues with depression, the weight of the universe making me about to make me cry.
“No Nina,”.
It’s not the weight upon you; causing this sensation…
it is the energy trying to flow through you.
This world is moving and flowing at unimaginable rates and molecular mathematics.
I let the energies of it all flow through me; it takes but a millisecond to feel it.
Like a river.
Flow through my body and take all my pain away.
To literally feel time, space and matter for just that one moment.
Do not fight the flow of the raging river was a Zen tale I always enjoyed, perhaps it applies in all moments.
This flowing universe ; we live amongst the endless stars.
Stop to feel it,
If you need to.
-Nina
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