My Thoughts Are Pollution

Coming-of-age ramblings that don't mean much in the long run

Here’s Some Stuff I’ve Done Recently

I’ve been learning how to make chiptunes, and that’s my most recent one. You can hear the others on that channel, too.

I’m very happy with this song, lyrically.

And yeah, this blog is pretty much dead. I’m keeping a new one, more focused on writing about not-just-how-I’m-feeling-at-the-moment stuff, and I’m liking that a lot. You can find that here. Recently I did a long and exhaustive post about the video game Tales of Symphonia, and I’m really happy with how it turned out.

Two Old Songs Redone


Mostly Moving On

So, it’s not the most awesome thing in the world to have to say this, but it’s probably been pretty obvious over the last year or so.

I don’t have any passion for this blog anymore.

It’s not that I’ve lost my passion for writing, I just don’t get a whole lot out of telling these anecdotes about my life or venting these days. I have plenty I could vent about; I’m pretty unhappy with, like, politics right now, and I’m kind of in a situation where I am surrounded by people who feel the opposite. I’ve also been overwhelmed by my studies, even though that’s not really a concern at this exact moment. I’ve had numerous awkward social situations that I could describe in excruciating detail.

I just… I don’t really want to. I’m channeling my experiences into my music. I’m holding on to them to continue developing my perspective, hoping to maybe enlighten someone someday. I’m dealing with life as it comes at me, instead of waiting until after it hits me to try to deal with it.

I don’t really need this blog right now. And who knows; maybe someday that will change. Maybe I’ll need a safe space to vent and complain and worry and act superior. Not that that’s… like… exclusively what this blog was, but it’s hard to look back at things that my younger self did -and this applies to everything in my life- without a little shame. I’ve changed so wildly every few months of my life, it feels like. It’s hard to own some of this stuff.

And I am proud of some of the work I’ve done on this blog. I’ve written about mental health, posted plenty of songs of varying quality, and occasionally even moved people. I’m just ready to move on. I’m ready to move on to a different kind of writing.

You see, I started a new blog a couple of months ago, this one with an entirely different purpose from this one. I’m using it as a platform to express my thoughts on games, movies, television, books, music, and whatever other media I happen to interact with. It’s a different approach to writing that requires some amount of actual thought to be put into it before I just vomit words onto a page. And my writing style is the same, generally. I write like this. I just have to organize my thoughts a little bit better over there for anything I post to be readable. It’s fun. It engages me in a way that this stuff hadn’t been for a while.

So yeah. I’m moving on. Feel free to check out my writing at my new, similarly-named home. And I might pop over here from time to time, if I have a new song to share or something. So yeah. Still writing. Just… I’ve got a new focus for the time being.

Anyways. Thanks a ton for all the time you’ve given to me over the years. Those of you who did make the effort to comment, I really appreciate you. You made me feel like my writing was worth the effort, and kept me doing it. And that’s important to me.

Check out Noise Pollution’s new entertainment blog, Thought Pollution, right here.

Wrote a New Song

A Few Words, Because They’re Important, As Is My Right To Say Them

I’m freaked out right now.

Yeah, it’s because of the election. But I’m less freaked out by the results than I am by the people who made those results happen.

And no, I’m not upset that they voted. Everyone should vote. And they had every right to vote the way they did. It’s the fallout from this all that is astounding to me.

We have elected a man who believes that freedom of the press is wrong. And when I speak to call him out on any of the horrific things he has stated publicly, I am met with a barrage of people claiming that he has the freedom to say whatever he wants.

They are absolutely right. But freedom of speech is not freedom “from” speech. Every action you make has consequences, positive and negative. Every word you say affects someone, somewhere in some way. And guess what? It is just as legal for me to be offended by the xenophobic remarks that man has said as it is for him to say them.

Freedom of speech means freedom of speech for everyone. Not just the people you agree with. Freedom of speech means that when someone says something I find offensive, I am allowed to call it out as offensive. I am not trampling on another person’s free speech by commenting on the things they said.

I have heard people cheer as a man on television said he plans to sue every media outlet who has ever said a negative word about him.

You know what? You people… you people who claim “freedom of speech” whenever someone calls you out for saying something offensive? You don’t believe in free speech. You don’t believe in the very thing our country was based on. You are not Patriots. I value our first amendment far more than you ever could. Free speech does not end at the people who look like you, who sound like you, and who think like you. Free speech does not end at anyone.

I am a Patriot. I am an American, and I believe in freedom of speech. Look at yourself. Look at how you’ve been reacting to the events of this week. Do you aim to silence those who disagree with you?

Do you really believe in our First Amendment?


Other Songs Say The Words Better Than I Can Right Now

Don’t Want to be an American Idiot

“Well maybe I’m the faggot America
I’m not a part of a redneck agenda
Now everybody do the propaganda
And sing along to the age of paranoia”

-American Idiot, Green Day


Fleeting (Song)


A winter gloom
These clouds hang low in the sky
She feels it crawl up her spine
The greys and blues
Serve only to clarify
As it gently traces a line

Her eyes go wide
Her eyes go black
Her hands are still
Her touch exact
She fogs the mirror
Under her breath
And finally here
She feels the press-
-ure of the last three weeks hold back

But she knows it won’t last.

A brief exhale
The blanket fell off the bed
She holds her shivering bones
Her fingers pale
The blood rushes to her head
Her room, a kingdom; her bed, a throne.

Her eyes go wide
Her eyes go black
Her hands are still
Her touch exact
She fogs the mirror
Under her breath
And finally here
She feels the press-
-ure of the last three weeks hold back

But she knows it won’t last.