I open my inner cosmos to the world because I want the world to open up to me, and teach me. I write with ink drawn from my deepest reservoir of feelings.
I got a closet full of paradoxes. Whatever I wear, I’ll be at odds with the world. I’m infinity in a moment. I’m four seasons in an afternoon. My intellect and my heart are like the moon and sun. I’m day and night in a twilight. I’ve explored too much of my inner space for me to walk a straight line. And for what?
For what, I ask you. Do you want me to mark my edges to make it easier for you to file them down? Do you want me to divide myself alphabetically to make it easier for you to box me in? Do you want me to dim my light because your eyes hurt?
My soul is far too restless for such hamster wheeling. I can’t be contained by the world. I contain worlds within me. My world view is like a kaleidoscope, and I get lost in just coming to a conclusion. And you want me to hurry up so you can make the 4 o clock train.
I want to write books about Somalis, about philosophy, about the corniest shit Faaraxs say 😂 . I want to do stand-up, I want to make documentaries, I want to write shows, I want to make short films. I want to be a baati designer. And an interior decorator. I want to leave everything and move out to a farm somewhere between mudug and waqooyi. I want to write songs. And parodies. I want to go to university and get a degree in philosophy and linguistics. Or engineering. Whatever. I want to go to Medellin, Colombia and learn Spanish. I want to climb Kilimanjaro. I want to make Xajj asap. I want to become a certified diver. I want to study quantum mechanics in earnest so that I can get up close and personal with Nikola Tesla. I want to interview extremist groups like ISIS and KKK.
But I remember that I don’t have infinity on this earth, so I ask my Lord to guide me to the sawwaab. And the Lord responds by opening up even more galaxies within me. Because everything in existence is His and He is the Most Generous, Most Understanding.