My Thoughts Are Pollution

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

Month: June, 2015

I Haven’t Killed You Yet

I hate to admit it
but it’s not getting better
the only way
is if you’d disappear forever
from my mind, from the world
from my list of lovely girls
I hate you so much I can only imagine

I cut my arms up
sometimes at night
and I can only hope that
one day you will try
to indulge in everything,
the dark rooms I enjoyed
and take a dull razor
to the skin that you employed
as my enemy, a friend to every
boy I couldn’t trust
I hope the bleeding is profuse
and the blade was hiding rust
and you watch a red line lower down the sink
and wonder what you’ve done
The blood, it is reflecting me
the only fucking one
and I dream that you will start to sink
underneathe warm water
in the bath that you’ve prepared
to end your life the only proper
way that you can
after knowing what I am
I will supply you with pills
if you don’t drown

in bloody water.

But I’m the one
who had that night
a thousand times in my head
and you will never
feel regret
even when I’m found dead
so what’s the
motherfucking point
in trying to survive
if the girl I loved
don’t give a shit
if I’m dead or I’m alive?

So I will hold onto this
the box-cutter that slashed my wrists
it means so much more to me now
than you do, than you’ll ever know about.
And sure, I’ll bleed my blood
but at least I won’t be in love
the red will flow down my hands
and it will pool where I cup them, together
and I will drink
and be merry.


Gross Imagery Ahead

This morning, I was awoken by vomit literally pouring out of my nose. Yes, out of my nose. I had no moment of being awake where this vomit could have potentially been held in, and upon waking I immediately ran to the bathroom to finish the wonderful-puke-thing that was happening. I then went back to my bed, changed my half-digested-nose-cereal-stained sheets, held a box of tissues and spent the next twenty minutes blowing my nose because the insides of it were on fire and also because gross. As it turns out, stomach acid doesn’t belong up there. Or food. Or a horrific slightly-chunky, slightly-goopy mix of both.

I feel like I’ve been so fucking sick for so long that I need to go to a doctor and find out what’s up. I don’t want to though. I’m scared of the likely causes of this sickness being confirmed. I’d rather just believe that I’m a sickly person than be told to stop smoking and to stop overeating. The smoking is why I cough. The overeating is why I puke. The lack of sleep (which is aided by both of those things) is why I’m always exhausted. But it’s so much easier to believe that this horrible state that my body is in is no fault of my own; that way I can keep overindulging in all the things that are bad for me.

I don’t smoke that much. No, really, I don’t. I have, like, three a week, and only on Thursdays. I don’t think that’s enough to cause the horrible coughing fits that I have, but on the weeks that I skip it… They aren’t as bad. That’s probably proof enough that I need to stop, but that just feels so shitty. I can’t even indulge in such a minor way without my body overreacting to it and making me feel like shit. I just want to be able to do something that’s bad for me, even a little bit. I hate the structure of good, clean, healthy living. I used to be on fucking meth. And I was healthier then than I am now!

I guess I’m just tired of these problems, but I hate the solutions. The solutions make me feel caged-in. I feel as though if I can’t have a vice, then I don’t have much of anything that I’m choosing for myself.

Good Things, Be Good

Marriage is legal in the US now.

Yeah, I just called it “marriage” and not “gay marriage” because I don’t really feel that there’s much of a need to distinguish between the two. Especially not now.

It’s great. There are more people out there who get to be happier than they would have otherwise. Is that not reason enough to be happy about this news?

We should all be supportive of the happiness of others. And, hey, Christians who seem to have forgotten literally everything that Jesus taught in the wake of this monumental event: you should probably just stop talking. About anything, ever. Jesus never taught to hate homosexuals. Jesus said love everyone. Jesus said, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.” Jesus hung out with the lowest members of society. He healed the ostracized sick, his apostles were the penniless fishermen, and his teachings were those of love and peace. He didn’t teach you to hate those who are different from you. And before you get all uppity about an atheist telling you what’s right and what’s wrong, I grew up Christian. Very Christian. I know all of the old Bible stories, I know all of the horrible Old Testament fire-and-brimstone crap. Pretty sure we’ve been taught that the teachings of Jesus take precedence, and even if they didn’t, you are not God’s fire and brimstone. You are not meant to be the judge of man. You are supposed to live your life righteously, and that means being kind to your fellow man.

So calm down. Let other people who aren’t like you be happy. Don’t say horrific things to them and about them. That’s not Christlike at all. And if you’re not Christian and you’re just a regular, old-fashioned homophobe, you can sit and stew and just know that the world is leaving you behind. Because it is. Unless you can grow the fuck up and accept other people and treat them with respect, you will be left on the wrong side of history and die a villain. Good for you.

Anyways, I’m stoked about the Supreme Court decision, and I hope everyone who’s being crazy can take a second to calm down and remember that everyone is human and deserves to be treated like one. No one deserves the abuse that is being dished out right now.

I Hate the Internet

You sit in front of a screen, turn on the light, and complain into a microphone about things that you don’t like, and what’s wrong with them, and what’s wrong with everyone who likes them.

You scoff and you laugh at the very idea that anyone else’s tastes could be at all relevant.

You are the only one that exists, clearly.

Any dissenting opinion is just someone trying to take away your free speech.

It is a right that only you have, and no one should be allowed to express themselves, because they’re drowning out your voice.

If you can’t be heard, that’s wrong.

So laugh at the pop-punk-rockers and make fun of bands that you don’t like.

Deconstruct the everything we constructed overnight.

You are a victory for this human race.

Only your culture is true.

Your white-guy hate and your white-guy pain can only be expressed by you.

You are a beacon of truth in a dark world filled with people who like music you don’t like.

And you are…
…a fucking asshole.

Disembodied Anthropological Fascination

“There’s a whole world out there
outside your bedroom”
she said
and I should get my ass up
and pull my sad self
out of bed
“The sun rises every morning
you could see it if you tried
but you’ll never stop this mourning
I’d believe you if you ever cried
You told me last you saw
a scene so beautiful
a girl collapsed into your empty arms
and finally made them full
but then you locked it away
and buried the remains
and I saw you try to dig them up
but they’re gone forever now
there’s nothing left of what you had
you’ve had time to sort that out
but you won’t.”

There’s a hole in the wall
of my old bedroom
There’s a ceiling collapsed
at my old job
and there’s this negetive space
inside my concience
and there’s this crippling weight
I should have lost

I don’t want to see the sun
no more.
I’m not missing anything.
I’m not missing


My family situation is kind of strange.

I’m not saying that to complain. Honestly, in this day and age, most family circumstances aren’t “normal”. The divorce rate in the U.S. is around 50%, which moves me from the “special snowflake” category I used to belong to into the “fucking deal with it” category I’m in now. And I can.

That’s not to say it’s been exactly easy. Up until literally this year, I haven’t had a good relationship with my dad, and even now that it’s not so bad, our communication is infrequent. I’m okay with that. Everyone seems to think that family is the most important thing in the world, but it’s not. The people you care about are the most important thing in the world, and if they happen to be family, then great. If not, then you shouldn’t feel pressured to bend over backwards for them. Not to say that I don’t care about my dad. I do. But the reason I care about him is because I have a relationship with him. It’s not because he’s my dad, or because he’s blood. It’s because there are memories we have together and things we’ve done for each other that I care.

There have been some rough patches in our relationship, to say the least. Some of them have even been pretty recent. But he did show some signs of becoming a better person when I saw him last. He used to be a raging homophobe. When I saw him last, he came to the conclusion that it wasn’t right to treat people poorly for that kind of reason, relating their situation to the relentless torment and teasing he got when he was young. At almost 50, my dad is growing up. It’s pretty cool.

I also have a stepfather. And two ex-stepfathers, but I don’t really want to talk about them. One of them literally broke into our house in an attempt to hurt or kidnap myself or another member of my family (we happened to be away from home at the time) and the other is the most emotionally distant person I’ve ever met. And he cheated on my mother. So there’s that. My stepfather right now, though, he’s a good guy. He could actually be a role model to me if I wasn’t so stubborn about that sort of thing. I refuse to have a legitimate father figure in my life at this point, after the ones I had before. So to me, he’s just a good guy. Not that we always got along, but now that I’m more mature I can see that he’s worked extremely hard to be good to me and my siblings, even though we aren’t technically his blood. Fuck “blood”. That doesn’t matter. My stepdad is my family and he’s done a lot for me.

This is the first Father’s Day where I feel legitimately okay about my relationship with both of my dads. every previous year, there’s been some sort of major conflict with at least one of them. I’m glad things seem to be getting better.


Whenever I finish experiencing a piece of media or art, I’m left with a gaping hole in my chest where it once was. I’m sure I’m not the only one who experiences this; in fact, I think it’s probably something everybody deals with. It sucks, doesn’t it?

I wish I could just experience the ending of something without desperately wishing for more. I think a part of this feeling is caused by a feeling I expressed in an earlier post; I find the real world depressing and boring, and when one of the many things I use to go somewhere else finally wraps up, I’m forced back into reality.

There’s a solution to this, actually. I think a lot of artists know about this effect, particularly television writers comic book creators. It’s why so many of those shows and books never end. They just go through storytelling “arcs” until they eventually get cancelled. They never really wrap up. It’s why I generally don’t watch a lot of TV or read comic books. Those mediums aren’t looking to tell a story, they’re looking to keep you engaged. I just don’t find that as interesting, but if I did start investing myself in them, I don’t think I’d have this post-ending depression thing going on quite as often.

I recently finally got around to watching The Legend of Korra: Book Four, the final season of the show. It’s also likely the last show to be produced that will ever take place in that universe. I may have expressed elsewhere that said universe is one of my favorites. I’m pretty bummed out. There are ways I could compensate for this feeling; I could go and rewatch the entire thing, I could rewatch the original Last Airbender series, I could go through and experience all of the commentary tracks included on the DVDs I have, I could buy all of the comics, but eventually this feeling will catch up to me.

In case you were wondering, the final season of the show was great. I think that the first and third seasons were better, but this one blew the underwhelming (short of a certain two-episode arc) second season out of the water. Each season of the show has dealt with touchy subjects (especially for a “kids show”) and this season’s themes were focused on PTSD, developing empathy, and [SPOILERS HOLY SHIT SPOILERS, SERIOUSLY] even a non-hetero relationship.

There were weak points, primarily the fact that three years had passed between this and the third season and the “getting the gang back together but they don’t get along like they used to” bits were a little forced, and the solving of that issue felt even more forced. There’s also an entire flashback episode where I would have rather seen a filler episode, something like Last Airbender‘s “Tales of Ba Sing Se”. I also found it somewhat slow to start, and the return of a certain character could have been better. That’s not to say it was bad, but it could have been better. The only other problem I had is that all three of the other seasons had an ending that if the entire show had stopped airing then and there, it would have made sense. They ended with such huge events that they could have been the finales for the entire run. This one ended, and while it was still quite a spectacle, I felt like it wasn’t quite as… as final as the other seasons were.

I want to go back to that world, but at the same time, I respect the show’s creators for actually ending it, like they did with Last Airbender. I’m down about it being over, but at least I don’t feel like I’m being manipulated by endless cliffhangers, like I was in the days (years ago) when I watched One Piece and Naruto. And it did end well. It made a statement, and an even bigger statement when you consider the fact that it’s meant to be a kids show and that a major television network was footing the bill for it. I hope to show The Legend of Korra and The Last Airbender to my own kids (when I have them) someday. They’re important works, in my mind. They’re something everyone should watch. (So if you haven’t, fucking do that already!)

I Want To Be An Escapist When I Grow Up

When I was much, much younger, I was obsessed with the concept of virtual reality. I would frequently flip through books in the library about technology of the future, hoping to see a section on VR, and if I did, I would check it out immediately. I would study these books thoroughly, though I can’t say I learned anything tangible from them. If they were books aimed at my age level, they were very… 90’s in their representation of the future. These books were basically written and laid out in a way that was meant to get a kid excited, with flashy colors and wacky-shaped word-bubbles with phrases like “Awesome!” and “So cool!” written in them. Anything I checked out that was above my age level was pretty over my head, though I pretended to understand it.

I used to write out ideas for VR video games. I created worlds that I wanted to live in. I was so bored with ours. It was so much more fun to pretend you were somewhere else, be it with a book, a video game, or my own imagination. I didn’t like our world. I never felt like I belonged here.

I wanted to live in a place where all progress I made was permanent. Every time I made an effort to do something, there was some sort of payoff for it, be it money or power or just becoming better at doing that thing. I wanted to be able to break the whole world down into numbers. I wanted to level up my “charisma” skill and suddenly, permanently be better at communicating with others. I invented worlds where I could. Large, forest-covered worlds with role-playing-game mechanics and reasons to take advantage of them. Small towns with little shops and taverns dotted the map, each one with a different problem that I could solve. And then I would solve it, and I’d be a hero.

It’s really hard to be hero in reality. Most heroes don’t come back from their efforts alive enough to appreciate the admiration they deserve. Most heroes are fighting for a country, not a cause. Most heroes get forgotten.

I’m still like that little kid, in some ways. I still want to be a hero, I’ve just given up on it. But honestly, it’s not like I believed it was possible back then. I was trying to create a place where I could matter because I didn’t think I’d ever find it here. And I haven’t.

I wish I had something to fight for. I wish I had a cause. I wish I had the ability to fight for it without losing my life in the process. I wish there was somewhere in the world where pure passion and devotion were enough to make a difference. I want to be capable of expressing myself through action, instead of just words like I do now. And I want to live in a world where all these things feel tangible. A world where I can be in a story, instead of just writing one.

It’s kind of crazy to think that some of this VR stuff is actually coming to fruition. Maybe its not in the full holodeck or Matrix-esque way that I want it to be, but the fact that any of this is happening in my lifetime at all is astounding. Maybe I can disappear into another world someday. Maybe the dreams I had as a child will come true, and I can leave this lonely little planet behind for something more fulfilling, for a few hours a day, at least.

An Obvious Conclusion

I can’t shake this feeling
that everything is gonna be alright
I guess that I haven’t been dealing
very well with this distinct lack of the light

so turn the tv on
with the volume off
let me bathe in the glow
of a new season
as the leaves turn red
I will lay in bed
and I know this nothing
happened for a reason

And I read the actor’s lips
as he writes out perfect prose
with them
and I hear you in my head
tell him something that were it verbalized
would sound like yes

I have come to a conclusion
This has all come to a denouement
Everything I’m doing
isn’t everything I know I want
I know that I’m something
even if it isn’t something much
and after all this nothing
I can’t hear or see or even touch

and I know
fucking sucks.

The first words I ever heard you say were goodbye, goodbye.