ramble on, and now's the time, the time is now

Ok, maybe because I am a bit drunk...

But my name doesn't suit. At least, not all the time. It feels to big, too refined, too... exotic? no, that's not the word i want. but close. i feel that i can't wield such a name. Too long. Anastasia. Oddly familiar, yet so alien at times. Anastasia is cold and competent and beautiful. Tasia is much more accessible. Or so I hope. Is it only me that finds liquor disconnects me from this life? Sometimes (sober) I look back and remember my childhood and find that it happened to someone else. I have all these memories, but they are not ME. They are strange and separate from who I am now.

I wonder if i should have been born a male. no, seriously. the doctor (no, i don't know which doctor) told my mom that i was a boy. but i am not. it's strange. ( i refrain from using the word "odd" because of "odd helge fylling." goddamn, why did he have to ruin that word too?now i'm stuck with "weird" and "strange" because i can't think of anything similar other than "queer" and that obviously isn't what i mean) writing is satisfying at times. it frightens me to think that maybe i will end up a writer? .... back to what i was saying. i find myself relating easily to male things. i fucking LOVE driving. honestly. shifting verges on a sexual rush at times. i will not drive automatic until i am old and lazy. and even then, i think i might want a trip (tip?)-tronic. is that even the right word? you know, when the car is automatic but you can switch over to shifting up and down. my mom's passat had it. there isn't a clutch, though, which makes it virtually an automatic. i just like being connected to the car when i'm driving. sometimes i feel sad when i'm drunk because i can't drive. i almost want to modify my car. i love it, but... the part of me left over from high school (when i had guy friends who were really into cars) wants to change it. cold air intake, bigger exhaust, spoiler... i should probably stay away from sports and other manly pursuits, or i'll just evolve past the need for a man. but maybe i already have. not to say that i'm not a little bit lonely after work, when i'm most vulnerable to those thoughts that whisper, "i want a beer and a boy to cuddle," but honestly? i think i could probably live alone for the rest of my life and i would be AWESOME. i would take care of business. without getting laid. i would have a cat and a dog and my little sister... speaking of whom. fuck. she's so sensitive! i think if i freakishly got pregnant, i might just keep it. i could do it. i have it in me. i just... i don't want to raise a kid alone. i'd end up being both masculine and feminine... too much. but my mother just doesn't know how to relax. i keep telling her. and she's so angry and hurt and i don't know how to tell her that she's hurting elyse any other way than forcefully. don't take it personally. it's helping already.

this may seem hypocritical or stupid because i'm drunk, but would just like to state for the record that i am attempting to live better. i'm not subscribing to a fad diet or exercising 6 times a week. but i am trying to LIVE more. i'm trying to be present more often. be with my body instead of leaving it behind while my mind rambles on endlessly about things that don't actually matter. it is helping. i am pulling myself out of depression. it is wonderful. i'm allowing myself to feel HAPPY for once. i LIKE feeling happy. i LIKE being excited about shit. even the most trivial stuff in life, like taking a shower. showers are fucking amazing, once you take a tiny bit of effort to be actually IN the shower rather than thinking about 50 things that will happen or have happened or will never actually happen. c'est la vie. life is beautiful! we are everything.

ok, so it all starts with self-love. so i was thinking today at work, if i actually love myself and think of myself as i would any other individual who i love, THEN i wouldn't want to suffer, right? if i love myself then i don't want myself to suffer and be unhappy. if i love myself, i want me to be joyful and happy. i jusr never thought of it that way before. i am feeling better in my skin. i have learned that i enjoy being positive and excited about life and i plan to feel these things more frequently.
however, i do not yet trust myself enough to count the attractions that i feel as legitimate and worthwhile.

there was a young man with tanned skin and dark curly hair on my beach when my therapist was helping me visualize. was that my animus?? or was it an actual vision of someone. i put him away when she said that i was alone on the beach. i wasn't at first. i think i want him back. i'm curious.

i want my grandpa's van. i want it. he didn't leave me anything. he didn't even leave me knowing who he was. i want that van. i want it. it's terrible and red and old and moldy and needs to be fixed and i want it. it's funny how quickly moods change under alcohol. for me, it dulls but it also makes me saddened more easily. i can't understand how anyone would use it as an escape. it just makes the misery more potent for me. i would never fall into alcoholism unless i wanted to feel misery every day. oh, he must have hated himself. i wish i had been older. i wish i had talked to him as an adult. i wish he had loved himself enough to be a man and be there for his family. i wish my grandma could be more stable. i might just fly down and visit in tennessee. i want to. i wish my aunt debbie didn't work so hard. she is hurting so much and i felt it when she came into joyce's house and i saw myself. everything helge did to me and worse! and she hasn't gotten past it after all these years.

i don't know what i want to do. i want for us all to hurt less. i want to be settled enough in my own skin to be able to reach out and soothe others. we are poisoning ourselves! i sit here with tears on my cheeks because i chose booze instead of weed and i think why? we all hurt so much. it doesn't have to be this way. it's hard to see through people. it's hard to see them being miserable instead of hating them for being difficult.

also. i have ceased to be intellectually afraid of death. i am curious. i love living. i am getting myself to be increasingly eager for every new day, but yet... i could die. i could expire. i could pass and i am curious about that. why not. i've lived. i haven't done everything and i haven't learned everything that i want. but i could die and that would be alright. like dustin hoffman as hook, "death is the only adventure left" (or something to that affect). it will be so interesting to die. life is so fragile. and yet we can do so much. i am fascinated. i wonder if we all become one. or if we are left as is? are those dreams of loved ones watching from beside us figments of the imagination? or are they true? i miss them, but at the same time... i don't want anyone watching everything i do. frickin hell, i don't want my grampa "watching over me" when i have an orgasm (alone, mostly). fuck that shit. i don't want to be some ghost just hovering around being jealous of the living while they fuck and fight and love and have adventures. i want to be a part of everything. wouldn't it be great to give up the singular closed off viewpoint of yourself as one human being and instead, go for being part of EVERYTHING?

love, love, love....

OHHHH i just found my rings! they were in the pocket of my shorts all this time that i thought i had lost them. i missed them so much. silly, i know. but i feel more of myself with them on. oh i am stunned. thought i lost them forever, i was resigned and not too miserable about it. this is wonderful. maybe the people i have lost will come back or be found in strange places...