I love words. They are made up of the same 26 letters, but the potential of what they create is infinite. They change, evolve and create blueprints for new realities .
I wish my parents would get that about me; my fickleness is not a sign of lack of determination. I see my mind as a rubik’s cube that I’m constantly twisting and turning because it’s fun! I love creating hypothesis, proving them and then throwing them away by creating new premises that build on the previous ones. The more I change, the more I remain true to me.
I was thinking about this as I thought about me coming back to Facebook, and I had this gnawing thought that perhaps people would view me as confused and unable to know what to stick to since I keep going off on lengthy hiatuses only to come back with obscure rambles. I didn’t know this thought was there, but the more I defied it by simply going with my flow, the louder it became. And it hit me how that’s been something I’ve been constantly criticized and shamed for by somali elders. It’s honestly the most incessant topic: stick to something, do something, make up your mind.
🤔 what if my exploration is me finding a place to land? Or am I expected to make better use of my life by walking the wornout path? If so, let me waste my life. No, seriously!
I’ve burnt all my bridges and risen from their ashes. I accept the worst judgements and whatever else the damoclean sword consists of. Because between what I feel is true and what I see out in this world is a vast dimension of difference. Things aren’t what they seem, so I’m not going to recycle the same set of phrases when I can create what hasn’t been manifested.
People romanticize being non-conforming which is a term that I don’t like because people who use it do so to make up for their lack of individuality and neurotic conformity, but I digress.
It can be ugly, lonely, scary. You have to sacrifice your ego as the bridge to walk across the dimensions and that is the closest thing to death. Now imagine dying to everything you’re comfortable with, everything you count on, everyone you like to be accepted by – 10,20,30,100 times a day. With every impulse comes a choice : do you let your unbridled desire lead you on an exodus out of your comfort zone to be possibly exposed to embarrassment and shame, or do you save yourself all of that by sticking to the script?
Well. If you are content reading your life off a script then I guess it makes no sense to let yourself break character. But if you’re sick and tired of this regurgitated alphabet soup of a life, then you better get up and travel light because you’ll lose a lot in order to gain yourself. And your only reward is becoming your potential. But isn’t that what this life is about?
This a note I wrote on my phone back in May:
I hide myself from words.
I lie to myself in this world.
So I pen myself to pin myself down. I’m a blur .
Self-harm with paper cuts and cutting words. Exposing my fragmented self, my broken and bruised self to the elements.
Fear, shame, embarrassment.
How do I get out of this predicament?
I burn the barn down to find the needle.
Then I burst my bubble to gain my freedom.
I’m sinful but sinning aint evil.
Evil is to pretend to be truthful.
The truth could only be discovered outside of Eden.
I rest in resolve to solve my riddle.
I trust the storm to bring me back together, again.