Also, for you all the people who continuosly don't care, go here:

http://www.mopedarmy.com/members/view/mosquito/brendan/

There, one can see my mohawk from about two months ago. Now it stands 3.5 inches tall, in sort of an 80's afrohawk ordeal. It's badass. But it is not, I repeat, NOT PUNK ROCK! Bastard people can't tell the difference between a simple haircut, and shitty ass music.
And mopeds, tons and tons of mopeds.

Go here:
The Moped Army

It's so god damn late, and I'm so tired I'm becoming delusional. I got 4 hours of sleep last night, and it appears that I'm only going to get 3 tonight(this morning) unitl I have to rise before the sun and head off to school. The main problem is I can't seem to make myself go to sleep. I sometimes wish I could never sleep again. Or was it sleep forever? It's been a long time since I could sleep regulalry, now it's tossing and turning, or simply the lack of sleep altogether. It's causing some problems. During the day I find myself lost in day dreams for long periods of time. And the time I do get sleeping is short and abrubtly spoiled by an alarm clock that i set not but 2 or 3 hours before. So damn early....

Cassette Tape- by: the damned

I threw a metal cassette into the player
It was total maximization of sound
The dolby power blasted out the speakers
It took me back in time

I was back in the nineteen eighties
Listening to a tape cassette in a yellow van
I believe it was Slayer
And I believe it was an Ford Econoline

I peered out the rear bubble window
To see where I was
I was in the nineteen eighties
A much better time

I was wearing a neon green Gotcha shirt
And bright blue shorts
I had long socks on
And a pair of old school Vans

I hopped out the rear door
Onto a skateboard twice as wide as they are now
We rolled along the streets
Passing the ugly boxy cars

There were brothers pumping boom boxes
Public Enemy loud as hell
And teenagers cracked out on coke
Everything was swell

The time I was there was radical
Most excellent in every way
The babes were bodacious
I never wanted it to end

After we got back in the van
I layed upon it's carpeted floor
The tape was over and switched sides
And I traveled through time once more

I was back in my room and all was the same
The tape I was playing continued on
It could have just been a dream,
But I was still wearing the old school Vans

I am progressing (?). I got a video internship on one of the prof's businesses. This is a step to what? I get to play with really expensive cameras.

Right now there's too much music playing at once to tell the difference between them. Echo and the Bunnymen is on my stereo, The Prom is practicing in my basement next to me, and I'm thinking of turning on some more for absolutely no reason. And It's raining outside, yesterday it was sunny. And it's cold. Bloody cold. I'm sitting here, with nothing to do. I don't know if there is something I should be doing, but if there is, I don't really want to do it. There's a brick wall in front of me.

I'm also wondering what this should be. It's mostly just shit, from my point of view. Pointless garbage.

Mental Dive To Omaha- by: the damned

There is a man named James
And his mind is so deranged
He used to have concious collective thought
Now he mutters, makes no sense and fades off
He shouts in self pity and anger
Every day he gets stranger
He tries to show people he's tired of living
But he will not talk about anything
I do the best I can to be his friend
I just hope he gets better in the end

Does anything ever change?

Tonight I am damned to my soul
Tonight I am dying in a crowded room

I think I'm going to throw up
And purge the sickness from inside me
An involuntary spazm of the stomach and intestinal muscles
Which force any substance that has been ingested
Upwards out of the stomach through the esophagus and out the mouth

I'm either going to pass out very soon,
Or i'm going to throw up....

Ink Blood Writer- by; the damned

His hand lay on the table
Next to it was the knife
Blood dripped off to the floor

He lay on the floor
Cradling his arm
Now 6 inches shorter than before

The ink well was red
The pen and nib were on the page
Tools used for his journal
Composed of liquid life

The words read easily
The ideas were clear
Each page resembled the next
Except this one was written in blood

His right hand held his left wrist
He cried on the floor
On the table his left hand remained
Useless now, never to be returned

Accepting Actuality- by: the damned

The vision equaled the distance across the room in my mind portrayed
The lights were too dark and destroyed the message
Lifeless bodies cluttered up the floor
Dwindling the chances
But the music pounded and fueled the fire

But the distance was actually greated than the vision
And it was just light enough to transmit the message
Vivid people were all about and scared me
There was no chance
And the music serenaded and fueled the fire

The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had...

Terror Shivered... His Red Eyes....Cold Inside- by: the damned


Under your skin there is this
What you've always wanted
Under your skin there is this
Submit
Death is inevitable
The end is inevitable
Death is inevitable
The end is inevitable
Submit


Under your skin is a skeleton
Without you it's just bones
It's what remains after you die
Death is inevitable
What you've always wanted
Submit
Submit
Submit

Hello, and welcome to La La Land. Some sort of surreal, partial world that resembles the real one I used to know. Where bad things were bad, good things were good, and the recognition of either was possible. Here, inside my mind of dimentia nothing counts, nothing cuts the surface, and simply blurs by. In this place, I am. That is the extent. I'm not something specific, just Am. It's where I live, sit, breathe, and wander. Where I do not think, do not want to think. Strangley enough it's not so bad. But yet I'm so afraid of it. The mere idea brings fear.

The thick paint strewn across the porous wall is bubbling up. It's aching and pouring. Purging itself from its long lived position, destined to flow once again. Brick by brick it defies its nature, against all odds of man, and makes its way to hapiness again. Once it's content, there's no way to tell what happens next. But for now it bubbles and drips willingly.

Relevance vs Ethereality- by: the damned

Covered the teeth
Blood
Trickled the chin
Death
Destroyed the mind
Inability
And the eys in the head
Rolled back
To view the past
To process signals in the brain
Realizing things shouldn't be this way
Also
The street flew beneath
Speeds as fast as cars
Over the town
Ashes sprinkled down
And the accident
Flames burning
Despite disbelief
Greater powers point fingers
Smiting out
Life
Devouring all
Souls
Hurting the ones the love

Your request has been denied
There is no chance of prevailing
In the current state
I recommend that you die
And put yourself out of the misery

"The (Ever Opressing) Man'

Serious Side Effects of Rock- by: the damned

We were playing good ol' rock and roll
I rocked the socks of this guy
He left in a shock
His bare feet in the freezing cold
He got pnumonia
Then he died
So one could say
That perhaps
It is a possibility
Maybe
Probably
That I rocked him so hard
That he died
He was rocked to death

Rock and roll will never die
So one could say
Rock and roll can not out rock itself to death

An iron fist broke my jaw....

A Bullet for the Gods- by: the damned

Walking through the underbrush
Brushing through the branches
He's got a gun in hand
With no intention in mind
He's a long long way
From where ever he should be
He's got tears streaming from his eyes
For a girl he lost the day before
She's done and gone
Moved onto a better man

Peering up through the leaves
His thought is
"To myself I must be true,"
On the outskirts of town
Of a place he once loved
He's wandering the fields
Looking for something he never knew
"What am I in this world?"

But now all the tears are gone
No more crying, no more denying
What once was himself
Is now a picture of only rememberance
He's got his things
Only what one needs
And he's fighting himslef for a reason to believe

"Dear, please believe me
But I just couldn't help myself.
Here in this place,
All alone, with no one else,
I make my stand."

The wind blows his hair
As his knees give way
In the mud beneath
He breaks down again
"Should I get up,
Or relish in the absence of myself?"
Dirty fingers twitch in the cold
Struggling simply to keep hold
On the gun that lays loosely in his palm
On on grander level unkown
In the same essence
To hold on to what he does have left

Into the sky he raises his arm
To the ground he lowers his head
His body cold
The sun behind the clouds
A blast is heard in the distance
And where he kneels

Gathering his things
His only lonely self
He heads back into the trees
Walking through the underbrush
With nothing in hand
With one intention in mind
To get a long long ways away
From where ever it is he was
His eyes are now shock dry
And he just walks
Stumbling through the woods

Somewhere in our vast, sensless minds, lingers the ability to deny ourselves. To completely ignore the obvious for the supposed sake of our own well being. Is what we're really doing an unconcious thought, to say, that for some reason, be it guilt or shame, that we repress ourselves? Only upon our own self collapse, and utter destruction, when there is nowhere to go, that our self realizes its actions. But even so, often we never look in retrospect and discover the fault at its source. Instead we attempt to solve this new found thing, that had been hidden by a bigger problem. Self ignorance is incredible. You can see it every face you look at, you'll find it when you dissect their lives. But yet, it's nearly impossible to discover your own. And even harder, if you do realize, to conciously correct it, and conciously keep merit on its progress.

-the damned

When I Left- by: the damned

I'm searching
For the dark
For the spilt blood
For the one who's lost it all
I'm looking into the dark
I'm reaching for the wrong
I'm understanding the truth held within
And you hide in the corner
I searching for the eye that can read my heart
Although black it may be
I'm looking for the one who can distinguish
The true intent that the heart was meant to be
Whose blood pulses like mine
Whose mind reads all the same signs
Who realizes all the pain and death
Is of absolutley no significance
I'm looking for a black heart that burns like mine

Kiss the Stars Goodnight, Goodnight- By: the damned

I reeled back the time laps in my mind
And discovered things so undivine
With unrelenting agony
History replays in my mind continuosly
And the events that were so great
Are short and quickly dissapate
But hard times
The shitty times
And the whole fucked up mess
Lingers on with no relent
So I stared into the sky
For hours without plight
Until my mind no longer funtioned on a normal level
I was hypnotised by the devil
After the sun set and the sky was dark
The imorptance of this world missed it's mark
I laughed unto the moon
I screamed at the stars
My mind, this embodiment
Was the hardest part
For what I am I can not always rely
That is until my demise
There was my blood dripping to the floor
Upon the floor there was a long silver knife
On the handle was a word that meant nothing to me
I took it as my name
And learned from what I was shown

My computer has been, dug out of the dirt, placed back together, given new skin and resurrected. So this is back online...

What is it that seperates me from the rest of the outside world?
It it even concievable?
It seems that I can look, and others can look for me
But it will never be found
Maybe things are supposed to be this way for me...