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Palmer

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[28 Sep 2009|10:57am]
Well, well, well.

I live in a great house with great people in the beautiful city of Santa Cruz. Classes just started, and they're great so far. I somehow have a really cute girlfriend named Xochitl. Things seem to be working out.

Things really seem to be working out.
3 Bears Bear

[05 Jan 2009|11:35pm]
Oh my god.

All of my dreams are going to come true.

2009 is going to be the best year of my life.
5 Bears Bear

[28 Dec 2008|11:51pm]
I'm in love with music right now.
I need to be an ethnomusicologist. I'm having doubts about my major.
I'm moving to Santa Cruz in five days.
I'm going to miss everybody so much.

I'm scared.
11 Bears Bear

[19 Oct 2008|04:44pm]
Oh, man.

I just read through all of my past livejournal entries.

I really sounded like a big jerk.

I'm really not. Really.
4 Bears Bear

Holy Shit [03 Oct 2008|03:46pm]
[ mood | happy ]

I got into UC Santa Cruz. Winter semester, I'm going! January! REAL COLLEGE, finally!!

My future finally has some sort of definition to it.


I'm gonna be a banana slug.

17 Bears Bear

Trying to be completely honest for once [03 Sep 2008|12:44am]
[ mood | courageous ]

I just had a brief, stoned daydream wherein I found myself with a stub for one leg (originating from a hypochondriac concern about an aching lower leg.) In my daydream life, I was able to get an awesome prosthetic that allowed me to bicycle. If you have one leg, biking must be the easiest way of getting around.

I've been spending large amounts of my days the past week daydreaming about a hypothetical future in which I have a different body. I envision a skinny version of myself, exuding cool confidence, getting compliments from cute girls to whom I deliver pizza. This happens every time I go on a diet. I actively seek this kind of wishful thinking daily, as if for some sort of strength. I am a weak person in most regards, but I am especially weak in the face of food. I miss it so badly. Almost like a lover.

I've also been missing lovers I've never had.

That one's harder to explain.

New Life, Phase One started last Monday with the start of school. I'm taking six classes - Science Fiction Literature, The Short Story, Linguistic Anthropology, Mass Communication, Art in Modern Life, and Indian (as in India) Art. I love my classes, and feel a rejuvenation in spirit, in that I'm actually enjoying the gaining of knowledge in a school environment, and humbly appreciating the exercise of my poorly abused brain.

During each class I daydream about acing the midterms, excelling in the dreaded group projects, and taking superb notes throughout. When I bike home, I daydream about women I'll some day kiss, and through daydream attempt to realize the absurd notion that some day, someone might possibly fall in love with me. This feels like a foreign impossibility, like a reconstructed history, like Hitler never died.

I daydream about going up to a pretty stranger on the street and telling her I think she's beautiful. I wish I had the courage to actually say something meaningful and truthful. In the daydream, she looks down and says thank you, almost like a reflex. In reality, I don't know.

6 Bears Bear

Deep thoughts with Palmer [10 Aug 2008|01:33am]
I've been thinking a lot about the godlessness of our universe, of the infinite nature of the past (how can there be a beginning of time? It's infinitely regressing.) I haven't thought about anything this huge in months, and it taints everything I think about. But I'm becoming more and more convinced every day that 1) god doesn't evist, in any form 2) belief in an intervening god is incredibly ridiculous 3) godlessness doesn't mean less meaning in life - it means more.

My memory is slowly decaying. I don't remember anything I learn. I learn incredible things every day and then never think back to them, never use them beyond the initial moment. I need to stop smoking so much.

I don't even put out romantic vibes out to anyone anymore. I haven't in at least a year, even when I'm interested...especially when I'm interested. I don't even think on that level, really; I just assume rejection and disinterest in every girl/woman I meet. Maybe I should stop doing that. Just take a rejection or two. I can't. I'm a coward.

Recently, I've found my conversation running dry. I don't know what to say to anyone. I always ask myself, "I'm really not interesting, am I?" as I run through my head to think of some sort of anecdote or conversational bridge to relieve some tense silence.



Would anyone object if I started to dress like this?

- Palmer
4 Bears Bear

The Reality of the Past [26 Jul 2008|04:15am]

(Mozhaisk, 1911)



(The Emir of Bukhara, 1911)

Early color photography terrifies (and enthralls) me because it reminds me that the past and its inhabitants were every bit as real as I am now, just as vibrant and tangible as the present. These people were as real as me, but they are now decades dead as I someday will be.

No one lived in a world of sepia-tone and grayscale.
5 Bears Bear

Conversation between me and overly philosophical/spacey teenage neighbor in the street at two am [20 Jul 2008|02:19am]
"It's all about holding the light without burning your bosom."
"Yeah.."
"Let me put it this way. Do you have any friends who are cocky, kind of like full of themselves? It could be anyone, even your sister or something, who knows."
"Yeah"
"Now see that person. Do you see him? Now...do you have any grandparents?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, so, imagine your grandpa. Now imagine a big crowd of people. Do you see a big crowd?"
"Yeah"
"Now imagine your cocky friend walking past that crowd. Then see your grandpa walking past the crowd. Now ask yourself: Which one holds the light without burning his bosom?"
"My grandpa. I mean, yeah...depending on how you interpret it."
"Exactly."

I can't tell if this guy has any idea what the hell he's talking about.
10 Bears Bear

[21 May 2008|01:04am]


I figured it all out.
5 Bears Bear

[13 May 2008|10:45pm]
I have no idea where my life is going.

I try not to think about the future.
4 Bears Bear

[12 Mar 2008|01:28am]
Remember:

The dark sky, the long, wet grass. The pick axe heavy in my hand. I swung, a small loop against the sky. When you strike a certain rock in this yard, it sparks; its beautiful every time.
I miss the rock but at the same moment a firework explodes in the sky, two houses down at most. A glowing, exploding ball of light, with all the brilliant ephemerality of those dandelions I've been picking day after day. It lights up our faces. We hoot, we holler. Mescaline raging through their minds, confused awe through mine. "HOLY FUCK! I made that! I made that!"

AND

Outdoor stairwell, El Camino College. The bitter cold, the Steve Reich in the headphones. I push my thoughts over the minimalistic pulse, "Truth is beauty, beauty truth. Truth is beauty, beauty truth. Truth is beauty, beauty truth." I still only partially understand it.

AND

Driving home from long day of hedonism, I find myself admonishing myself out loud for the first time in my life. "Stop being so stubborn about your failure."

I don't understand any of this, and I'm not making it any easier.
13 Bears Bear

[12 Mar 2008|01:24am]
I'm afraid that I'm forgetting all of the beautiful moments in my life.

Is there any point to them if I can't recall them later?

I need to start taking pictures. In a year, none of this happened.
Bear

Plase, No Rain Driving [24 Jan 2008|12:05am]
It's been raining. Almost all day today, it came down. First time in a while that I've been bothered by it.

I'm sorry, meteorology, I still love you. It's just that driving two hours in pouring rain is terrifying. Let me explain.

My plan for today was simple. Wake up. Study for test. Take test. Get high. Watch Invasion of the Bodysnatchers. Drive to West Hollywood to attempt to get medical marijuana card.

Everything was going smoothly. Woke up, read the chapter the test was on. I hardly needed to. For one thing, this specific test is on drugs. If there is a running theme in my life the past month or so, I would say it would be drugs. So I have an advantage on that point. Furthermore, this class is the easiest class I taken in years. Including high school. I need to get real in-depth about the class another time. This is not the time.

So, rewind. Woke up. Rolled over, grabbed text book, immediately sucked in the drugs chapter. Drove to school. Owned test.

I finished the test with about two hours until my next class, so I left campus, got a smoothie, and headed over to The Guys' House (aka Zack, Chris, Charlie, Josh, Sam, etc...). I knew that we were going to be watching Invasion of the Bodysnatchers in History. When I'm presented with the chance to have a great time in history, I pounce. Thus, I got really high before class and was thoroughly entertained by the movie and its ridiculous anti-communistic propaganda.

Which brings me to the card. I've decided, and have been prompted by a dealer friend of mine, to obtain a medical marijuana card. Its essentially a laminated piece of security. The great part about living in the state of California is that there are a number of doctors that almost guarantee a "recommendation", which allows anyone deemed in need of medical marijuana to possess it legally and obtain it through "clinics."

While I don't suffer from glaucoma or anorexia, I do use herb to self-medicate. A few years ago, I was depressed for a long time. Anyone who read this journal for those years can attest to that. But then, a few years ago, I started smoking. And since then, life has been much lighter, much more manageable. Rather than failing grades and chronic fatigue, I have strong grades, a steady job, and pretty good energy. When I explained all this to my mom about a year ago, she said something along the lines of "Wow, you'd be great for the marijuana infomercial." Because I'm a pretty excellent case of a functioning user. Addict, probably. But that's a whole other bag of marbles.

So, like I said. It poured all day. The doctor's office is in West Hollywood, La Cienega and Santa Monica Blvd. In the rain, La Cienega felt like an endless, terrible test of my patience and mental state. For one thing, I was driving to Hollywood by myself, which is pathetic and lonely in itself. Coupled with the terrifying (to me, anyway) act of driving in heavy rain and occasionally mind-numbingly slow traffic, I wasn't feeling all that excited about the whole thing.

When I got to the end of the thousand mile journey that is La Cienega, I walked into the building, looking for Suite 110. A diminutive bearded twentysomething was looking for the same place and found it with me. And together, we were told: The doctor is not here today. She's out on emergency leave. I'm sorry.

Dammit dammit dammit.

So I got to drive for an hour and fifteen back to Manhattan Beach. A grand waste of time, I'd say. Needless to say, I'm going back next week.

Anyhow, I just got some studying done for my History midterm tomorrow (waking up tomorrow morning to finish - the only way), smoked a bowl, and watched Russian animation videos on YouTube. I think I have found a new sector of beauty in my life.





I have more to talk about but I feel like I've said too much for now. I'll save it for later. I mostly need to talk about love, but that's ground that has been covered in this journal thousands of times, so I'm sure you won't mind me putting it off for a few days.
2 Bears Bear

Trip [19 Jan 2008|01:33am]
[ mood | tired ]

On Wednesday, my mind expanded and contracted.

Grayson prepared mushroom tea for two, and we sipped out hot drinks hesitantly. The taste of the mushrooms brought me back to around a year and a half ago, when I first ate them. That time was part revelation, part disappointment, as euphoria and visual effects led to awful stomach pain and an odd depressive state. This time, though...anything but disappointing.

After the mushrooms started to kick in, Max, Grayson, and I went on a walk through Long Beach. As we walked along the sidewalks of the residential streets, the world exploded with color. The houses in the neighborhood are small, mid-century homes with vibrant painted colors - blues, purples, greens. I continuously stopped with a child-like "Oh wow!", to pick the spiky seeds off of a tree, or look at flowers, or marvel at the day-glo luminosity of the houses. I couldn't help but smile the entire time.

Once back at the apartment, I settled into a beanbag in Grayson's room and stared at the ceiling for a good twenty minutes, the stucco swirling in baroque, ever-changing patterns, sometimes appearing translucent, allowing me to somehow see beyond. We put on Shpongle, an electronic group who make music specifically for tripping, and Koyanisqaatsi.

For a good hour or so, I lay on the beanbag, swaddled in blankets, watching the backs of my eyelids. The imagery was so vibrant I often questioned whether my eyes were truly closed. Figures appeared to be standing above my lying body, sometimes beckoning, sometimes making gruesome faces. Many of them were inexplicably Asian. I puzzled at the thought that I was somehow subconsciously birthing these images, that any image ever seen in my mind's eye is purely the work of my imagination. As the visual effects began to wear off, I opened my eyes and found that, as I stared at Grayson's face, his eyes were mouths, moving with each word he spoke. Didn't bother me at all.

So, yeah, I had a good time.

A week or so prior, Grayson and I went on an adventure about Long Beach, going to a bookstore, record store, and vegan restaurant. The bookstore was one of those used types brimming with old paperbacks and dust, seemingly unorganized rows upon rows. In the back I found a few boxes inexplicably filled with some stranger's memorabilia from times past - old photos, a standard reply to a letter sent to John F. Kennedy, ancient football programs. Amongst it all, I found a number of pieces of black construction paper, glued to which were old photographs from what seems to be the teens to the 1920s and 30s. I was enamored by enough of these pictures that I bought a handful of them for five bucks. Here are some of my favorites:

IMG_0010

I wish I knew who these people were, or areCollapse )

A reminder for things to talk about next time, for it is far too late now to squeeze them in:

- John Featherstone
- Punishment
- Self-image
- Addiction
- Love

Until next time, though, those topics shall remain murky and unexplored. Much love to everyone; comment and let me know you exist.

- Palmer

7 Bears Bear

Double love to anyone who reads this in its entirety. [10 Jan 2008|11:13pm]
[ mood | high ]

I've been telling myself to write in here night after night for a number of nights now. I never did. Some sort of fear lingered, unplaceable. I'm afraid of my ability to articulate any sort of meaning in the life I'm living right now. I know the meaning is there, because I see it every day, beautiful, meaningful things that I see and feel everyday and never tell anyone about anymore. I keep them in my head, and smile about them as I stare outside, ignoring a book.

My current situation: Living at home. For most of the year it's an uncomfortably different situation than the one I've grown up with, in that I'm living alone with my mom, no sibling around. Dennis is at UCSC, Carly at UCSB, and Joanna at ASU. It's an odd dynamic, with my independence making my relationship with my partly emptying nesting mom limited mostly to greetings and reminders. I don't think about this much though, to be honest. I need to.

I'm taking Winter class at El Camino, community college deluxe. Taking the Double-H, History and Health. Two hours each, every day. Not fun. Not very much fun biking there and back, either.

Speaking of which, I have been fulfilling my resolution since the first. Dieting, biking to school every day. I'm in pretty awful shape, so the eight miles each day feels overly exhausting sometimes. But I've been delighting in the recent discovery that I feel mildly high about ten minutes after exercise, the endorphins stemming from all the exertion creating a warm, exuberant glow all around my body.

Taking classes without friends creates an odd separation within a typical day. From the time I wake up until around four or five, I typically utter less than one full page of words. In this time, I'm essentially living in my head, only speaking when asking questions in class or having friendly, small-talk conversations with classmates whose names I never learn. When the sun goes down, I seek conversation and warmth, so I hang out with friends as soon and as often as possible. And when I do, I often find words flowing out of my mouth, taking the thoughts that have been sitting lonely and bored in my head and giving them some air.

But even more than that, it seems, I don't say anything.

Sorry, this is rambling. After studying for an hour and a half or so for my midterm tomorrow, I eased myself outside my window (ground floor, no worries) and smoked two bowls with the bong I just bought last night. It's quite a beauty, and hits like a beast. I found myself staring at the backyard and watching the foliage sit still, cracks and thumps calling out weakly. Some part of getting high on the side of my house is always left for profundity, but most of it is just me trying to hack out smoke without alerting my mom or neighbors. Such is life.

Anyhow, that's why I'm writing so much.

I have more to elaborate but I should save that for another update. That will give me some motivation to write in here more. Because I'm an English major and have to decide whether to go the Literature or Creative Writing route, I need to flex my mind through introspection a little more and remind myself how to put words down with sincerity, minus the topic sentences and theses.

Anywho...I love you all. More for later!

7 Bears Bear

I Don't Think, Therefore I'm Not [27 Nov 2007|01:23am]
I still exist.

I don't know what I'm going to do with my life.



I really just wanted to post that.





I'm getting the feeling that some people don't like me.
14 Bears Bear

[17 Oct 2007|10:05pm]
I'm still alive.

I'm not smoking anymore and I feel vaguely empty.

I'm losing weight and strengthening my heart so I can get some love.

Need some love. Need it need it.



The only class I like is botany.
6 Bears Bear

We Are Co-Existors [17 Aug 2007|03:34am]
Ello!

Life has been pretty glorious recently. I've all but abandoned my diet at this point (the guilt is awful but I tell myself I will start again with school, or sooner, whenever that is.) I lived at my Dad's house by the beach for about a week or so, which gave me plenty of time to soak up the beach scene...from the privacy of my dad's roof, that is. I'm still to scared to let anyone see me with my shirt off.

Here are some pictures I have posed for recently (a few are with bears):









Beauty abounds!

I thought I would have the patience to say things, but I have found that I do not. Take the pictures and comment! Thoughts will come at another time.

Love,
Palmer
9 Bears Bear

[01 Aug 2007|04:47pm]
I just signed up for classes for Fall semester.

MONDAY 8:00-9:00 - English 1C
9:30-10:40 - Math 70

TUESDAY 7:45-9:10 - Psych
9:30-10:40 - Math 70
11:30-12:55 - Botany

WEDNESDAY 8:00-9:00 - English 1C
9:30-10:40 - Math 70

THURSDAY 7:45-9:10 - Psych
9:30-10:40 - Math 70
11:30-12:55 - Botany

FRIDAY 8:00-8:50 - English 1C
9:00-12:10 - Botany (Lab)

I'm actually excited.

Anybody else going to El Camino who hasn't signed up for classes yet, get in one of these! I'm all alone.
3 Bears Bear

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