Some days I walk into work and my co-workers take one glance and know... "Not today." "She's not in the mood." "Somethings wrong." I guess the writings always on the wall in this house of cards. Most of the time it's this crazy head of mine always doing something stupid- or even worst forgetting something important. This week it's a number of things. It gets me wondering...
Why do you do this to yourself?? You know that throwing your purse down on the floor and not hanging the keys is going to lead to a frantic panic attack 10 minutes after you should of left the house. You know that sleeping fifteen more minutes (five times) is pointless and your going to work late or will be speeding at top speeds like a race car driver to get there. You know that some people never change, and some people are forever changing, meanwhile you fear change but crave it always. But I still do it all. I still walk in and throw my purse wherever it lands, lose my keys multiple times a day, I still like to wear mismatched socks because wasting energy on finding the other match is a waste of my time- what the hell anyways- every single under garment/sock I own is black- can't go wrong there. I still find the kind of friends- who constantly find a way to put the fear of rejection right back into you.
I'm far from a good girl. I'm far from perfect. I'm messy, confused, flighty, I am a hot mess. So it got me to thinking- why would I want it to be any other way?? There is always some sort of fucked up thing that's going to happen in the life of Stephanie Marie Hawk, and I am just okay with that. I guess I could pick my things up, put a table by the door for the purse/keys, I could buy all the same kind of socks to eliminate the mismatch, I could be a hermit like I was for awhile- but it didn't work for me. I can wake up on time and go to bed at a normal hour- but that wouldn't be me.
I could wear the clothes out of the magazines- or keep up with the latest trends. I like to wear my leather boots and jacket as much as I can. I suppose I'm missing a studded belt, some face piercings and black lipstick on any given bad day. But again - that just wouldn't be me. I like to live simple- and even though it's always a mess - it's my strange world, it's my strange soul and for whatever reason- I seemed to do alright in attracting the weirdest of weird in the friends category, never landing myself a perfect relationship, always wondering- what the hell am I doing in this mess?? Lately, I've been trying to convince myself I'm this person that I am not.
Lately, I've tried to convince myself I have changed. I have not- I will always be nicknamed "Murphy" (Everything that can go wrong, will go wrong." "Hot Mess Sally" for my unconventional way of getting things done, always forgetting the important things and sometimes what I'm doing. I've been through 5 cars in less than 2 years. 5. Yes. 5. (None of which were my fault except maybe one- that's still up for debate.) I've managed to get myself into messes- that the movies could only for one second try to imagine - just for humor. That's me. That's my mixed up life. That's my messed up head. It's all twisted and wrong and not normal and most certainly not easy. But that's me. And anyone who knows me knows- I will forever be the mess of a woman, Steph Hawk- who loves ten times harder than anyone you'll ever meet, who would take the shirt off her back, who when and if you hurt her- will hurt ten times harder than anyone ever hurts. Who wants to see the good in the world and that there is never too much chaos, mahem, confusion in one single hour of one single day of one single week, in one single life for this girl.
So... Lately I've been thinking- it's about time at the age of 26, I start to love this self-inflicted disaster of a life I have provided for myself instead of always trying to change it. Besides- I can't stay settled for too long, I get to antsy- soon enough I'll evolve in another way.
Peace out my friends, stay you- stay true. Love always,
Stephahhh
