Messy Monotony

I’ll be honest— if you haven’t figured it out by now based on my writing, I’m a mess.

And not even the aesthetically “perfectly looking” “messy bun, no makeup wearing, “if you don’t like me at my worst you dont deserve me at my best” Marilyn Monroe quoting, everyday Starbucks buying instagram ready” type of “hot mess”.

No.

I’m the type of mess who is exhausted from sleeping in a futile attempt to shut my brain up.

I’m the type of mess who is dead set against using “happiness” as a source of fulfillment yet, I am left disappointed that the emotion of happiness didn’t last longer than a week since moving into my new place.

Moving really has shown me what things I’ve been holding onto out of some weird metaphorical sense of security when in reality, if I just chucked some of this stuff out the window (and into the nearest garbage can, because littering is not cool) then I would probably be able to breathe a little easier.

I’m in a pruning season of determining what things I need to cast out of my life forever, versus what things I just need to be finished with in this particular season.

Messy monotony is what happens when you combine a routine that doesn’t add to your life + a lack of peace within yourself.

How do you know you’re doing the right thing?

You don’t.

You have faith that you’re either making the right decision or that you’ll have the wisdom and courage to redirect yourself into the right decision before you have to learn a lesson accompanied with a regret.

That’s the season I’m in.

In the words of Taylor Swift… “we’re happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time. It’s miserable and magical at the same time.”

She had it right.

Miserable and magical. Still waiting on the magical though.. I hear Tinkerbell is on her way.