<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270</id><updated>2012-02-16T12:37:02.676-05:00</updated><category term='Is this about you? CHANGE? DON&quot;T READ?'/><category term='The ones that matter'/><category term='always stick around'/><title type='text'>BykeSkunx</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>49</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-5074268377019550206</id><published>2012-01-17T11:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T11:41:41.330-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;The skies are opening here in Philadelphia. And sometimes when it rains like this, I just miss everything. The clouds pronounced my death months ago. I missed the summer heat and every changing leaf, so why not miss the snow. Sometimes I really just miss everything. Now that I’m back home, I’m useless and tired again. The last thing I can do is even try to move. But the last thing I could ever want is to sit right here forever. I remember the thing I loved most about those days was staying awake all night, sleeping all day, and going home alone. So for now I’m feeling stranded. But mostly I’m just tired, miserable, and hopeful all the same. We will not survive, and we will not be remembered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-5074268377019550206?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/5074268377019550206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=5074268377019550206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/5074268377019550206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/5074268377019550206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2012/01/skies-are-opening-here-in-philadelphia.html' title=''/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-4566638526835694971</id><published>2011-07-09T09:11:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-09T09:12:40.843-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Who decided the decorum. As I get older, why should I get shittier?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-4566638526835694971?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/4566638526835694971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=4566638526835694971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/4566638526835694971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/4566638526835694971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2011/07/who-decided-decorum.html' title=''/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-8586169348639094622</id><published>2011-03-23T03:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T03:48:39.148-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spent</title><content type='html'>I don't know what to do anymore. If life were a job, I'd quit and find a new one&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-8586169348639094622?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/8586169348639094622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=8586169348639094622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/8586169348639094622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/8586169348639094622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2011/03/spent.html' title='Spent'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-5527560891331887168</id><published>2011-03-11T09:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T09:54:53.651-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We are not resilient; we are destructive and useless&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-5527560891331887168?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/5527560891331887168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=5527560891331887168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/5527560891331887168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/5527560891331887168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2011/03/we-are-not-resilient-we-are-destructive.html' title=''/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-8980778762585904452</id><published>2011-01-19T22:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T22:33:34.745-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" class="youtube-player" type="text/html" width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8cjORoHfTcg" frameborder="0"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;NP: The National - Boxer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Listened to this album 3 times through at work today, forgot how much his voice does for a tired morning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-8980778762585904452?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/8980778762585904452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=8980778762585904452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/8980778762585904452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/8980778762585904452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2011/01/np-national-boxer-listened-to-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/8cjORoHfTcg/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-9113264280774201268</id><published>2011-01-19T20:44:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T20:44:33.792-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I can't get a break to save my life. I'm throwing in the towel&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-9113264280774201268?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/9113264280774201268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=9113264280774201268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/9113264280774201268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/9113264280774201268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-cant-get-break-to-save-my-life.html' title=''/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-7916694560322299849</id><published>2011-01-04T11:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T11:47:54.303-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>All I've learned is to keep my mouth shut. No matter what it means to you, it means nothing to anyone else. No one will ever betray their own convenience for anyone else&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-7916694560322299849?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/7916694560322299849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=7916694560322299849' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/7916694560322299849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/7916694560322299849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2011/01/all-ive-learned-is-to-keep-my-mouth.html' title=''/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-6621194332144117730</id><published>2011-01-02T10:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-02T11:01:35.488-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Is this about you? CHANGE? DON&quot;T READ?'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm just so beaten by all of everything here where I've come back to. Treat strangers like friends, and friends like strangers; this is all you need to get ahead. This is what I've learned this past year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-6621194332144117730?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/6621194332144117730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=6621194332144117730' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/6621194332144117730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/6621194332144117730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2011/01/im-just-so-beaten-by-all-of-everything.html' title=''/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-5352003247872288584</id><published>2010-12-09T14:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-09T14:52:40.431-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've discovered my love for cooking. There is never perfection. I will forever continue trying to achieve something better, something newer, something greater.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-5352003247872288584?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/5352003247872288584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=5352003247872288584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/5352003247872288584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/5352003247872288584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2010/12/ive-discovered-my-love-for-cooking.html' title=''/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-78606416831384228</id><published>2010-12-08T10:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T10:27:38.596-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>THINGS TO DO TODAY:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Get over the people I should've given up on long ago&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Sleep&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-78606416831384228?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/78606416831384228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=78606416831384228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/78606416831384228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/78606416831384228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2010/12/things-to-do-today-1.html' title=''/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-1627605519574312067</id><published>2010-12-05T10:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-05T10:49:13.317-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Two people that I once thought I was very good friends with continue to push me away at all costs. There's no reason for me to be sitting on this stained couch, in this obnoxious apartment, in this trashy town, in this barren corner of the state. There's nothing keeping me here, and the only thing worth leaving is the shitty company I keep.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've never made a conscious effort before to work as much as possible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But if that's what keeps me away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-1627605519574312067?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/1627605519574312067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=1627605519574312067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/1627605519574312067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/1627605519574312067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2010/12/two-people-that-i-once-thought-i-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-779955437311400727</id><published>2010-09-25T12:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-25T12:17:06.134-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Now and forever</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  line-height: 18px; font-family:'Lucida Grande', Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="  line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;In the unbearable heat of the Kansas summer nights, I really knew these songs. Driving everywhere but with no place to go, these songs really spoke to me. I hear the late summer sun one hour after it sets, the way it casts an eerie glow over everything you see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/wPrDCbhr_rY?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/wPrDCbhr_rY?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-779955437311400727?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/779955437311400727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=779955437311400727' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/779955437311400727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/779955437311400727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2010/09/now-and-forever.html' title='Now and forever'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-8531652822637613469</id><published>2010-09-25T00:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-25T12:13:46.807-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The older we get, the darker the nights seem. I swear that it's the truth.&lt;br /&gt;With every passing year, another star burns out to black.&lt;br /&gt;Soon enough we'll all be standing in the dark of night terrified for our lives.&lt;br /&gt;Terrified for ourselves; terrified of ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure, though, that we'll learn to illuminate the eves with our steadfast nature. A beacon of light protruding from our never hindered souls. We are bigger than all of this. Or so you think we are. With nature on our side, we can do no wrong. With God on our side, we will always prosper. Tongue in cheek.&lt;br /&gt;But wait! Aren't we in the middle of this game? The game of who has it worse. We seem to have such an insatiable affinity to the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You aren't worth saving. But neither am I.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-8531652822637613469?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/8531652822637613469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=8531652822637613469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/8531652822637613469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/8531652822637613469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2010/09/older-we-get-darker-nights-seem.html' title=''/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-2289356722522070901</id><published>2010-08-11T23:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T23:23:54.168-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;What's the point of friends when they just destroy you in the end?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/TGNpOVyt5nI/AAAAAAAAACM/rjFDFoAAUMM/s1600/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/TGNpOVyt5nI/AAAAAAAAACM/rjFDFoAAUMM/s320/1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504358864665831026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-2289356722522070901?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/2289356722522070901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=2289356722522070901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/2289356722522070901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/2289356722522070901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2010/08/whats-point-of-friends-when-they-just.html' title=''/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/TGNpOVyt5nI/AAAAAAAAACM/rjFDFoAAUMM/s72-c/1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-930718688645985600</id><published>2010-08-10T13:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-10T13:41:29.657-04:00</updated><title type='text'>TNT</title><content type='html'>Consider me the next Ben Barnett&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-930718688645985600?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/930718688645985600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=930718688645985600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/930718688645985600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/930718688645985600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2010/08/tnt.html' title='TNT'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-3833378715856339991</id><published>2010-08-01T23:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-01T23:35:27.315-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='always stick around'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The ones that matter'/><title type='text'>Hair Stalk</title><content type='html'>I've had a lot of friends, and I've lost most of them.&lt;br /&gt;I left them sitting in the gutters of the streets that they grew up on&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-3833378715856339991?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/3833378715856339991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=3833378715856339991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/3833378715856339991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/3833378715856339991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2010/08/hair-stalk.html' title='Hair Stalk'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-4393329862819939907</id><published>2010-06-01T02:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T02:32:22.135-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I live in my own singularity. I wish to embrace and accept that fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOW PLAYING:&lt;br /&gt;Bon Iver's "For Emma, Forever Ago"&lt;br /&gt;Whiskeytown's "Stranger's Almanac"&lt;br /&gt;Pianos Become the Teeth's "Saltwater"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1063/545666920_68fa55ee60.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 321px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1063/545666920_68fa55ee60.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-4393329862819939907?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/4393329862819939907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=4393329862819939907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/4393329862819939907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/4393329862819939907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-live-in-my-own-singularity.html' title=''/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1063/545666920_68fa55ee60_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-1231374867364827434</id><published>2010-03-13T13:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T13:57:40.284-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sometimes it just gets easier to breathe when you’re breathing alone. I guess companionship is useless anyways.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-1231374867364827434?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/1231374867364827434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=1231374867364827434' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/1231374867364827434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/1231374867364827434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2010/03/sometimes-it-just-gets-easier-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-2827868314261537873</id><published>2010-01-30T12:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T13:11:14.215-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Roading</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/112/302069033_e047a054dd_b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 1024px; height: 685px;" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/112/302069033_e047a054dd_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This up and down is tough. So many genuinely nice people, yet still with a selfishness that could dishearten even Gandhi himself. Maybe I'm the selfish one though, requesting people to have the slightest inkling of interest in my dreams. I've been repeatedly ruined by my friends and family. Why should I expect any better from complete strangers? I guess I just thought someone could have that moment that I had at 15 seeing Rocky Votolato the first time. I guess I just thought that someone could recognize what I see as my genuine, kind-hearted manner. I guess after being pushed out so much, it just comes off as a bitter bite. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The chances haven't been given, but why would I expect someone to take that chance on me. I'd love for these words to change someone, but it seems that isn't my fate. I wasn't made to weather these perpetual downs, with the occasional rare up thrown in. I can't even spend one day sitting inside this head without falling apart inside. The pessimism isn't the problem, the reaffirmation made by reality is the kick in the gut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can settle in and give it up, or you can just keep kicking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NP:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/anniversaryclub"&gt;Anniversary Club&lt;/a&gt; every night&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-2827868314261537873?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/2827868314261537873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=2827868314261537873' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/2827868314261537873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/2827868314261537873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2010/01/roading.html' title='Roading'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/112/302069033_e047a054dd_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-6050861668271221573</id><published>2009-11-04T00:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T00:41:37.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Feared or revered, broken or healed. We all learn to be our own in time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-6050861668271221573?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/6050861668271221573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=6050861668271221573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/6050861668271221573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/6050861668271221573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/11/feared-or-revered-broken-or-healed.html' title=''/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-1823315546106466000</id><published>2009-10-07T23:26:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T23:26:40.687-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DIrErUOkSEU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DIrErUOkSEU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-1823315546106466000?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/1823315546106466000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=1823315546106466000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/1823315546106466000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/1823315546106466000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-6681463347521587348</id><published>2009-10-06T03:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T03:42:00.668-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Era</title><content type='html'>As far as i'm concerned, all good things must come to an end. And, as far as I can tell, the end of an era is an end, no matter how bitter or joyous that end may be. But who's to say one good thing ever came out? Who's to say that the materialization of all our trials and tribulations ever reached one positive outcome?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And who's to say that an end to what is familiar will ever change a thing?&lt;br /&gt;Though we find ourselves in different homes and surrounded by different lives, we still remain forever stagnant in our ways. No matter where we lay our heads, we will forever perpetuate the things that truly make us quake. Sixty miles between the now and then, yet still the late night self-loathing ensues. Still, we are haunted by our own misfortunes. By our own mistakes. Though we may go home to reverse the past, we may never reverse the things that meant so much in the nights of years ago.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-6681463347521587348?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/6681463347521587348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=6681463347521587348' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/6681463347521587348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/6681463347521587348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/10/era.html' title='Era'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-5091740916266198940</id><published>2009-10-05T23:36:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T00:21:16.430-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Get bolder</title><content type='html'>This day to day kills me. I guess the more things change, the more they stay the same. Its easier to just fall in line with the faults that we've come to expect than to attempt or expect or enact change. But I don't need your artificial pity. Insincerity at its finest. It seems you probably need me a lot more than I need you. In fact I don't need you at all. Self-interest and conceit, feigned cordiality and empty charisma are the things that are truly rewarded in this life. In the end, sincerity and integrity just go unnoticed. Every good person dies bitter and alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give up, get bitter, get over, go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SsrBDvEqI1I/AAAAAAAAAB4/PFZ0sIScwnk/s1600-h/In_Her_Absence_by_Wicked_Little_Town.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SsrBDvEqI1I/AAAAAAAAAB4/PFZ0sIScwnk/s320/In_Her_Absence_by_Wicked_Little_Town.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389332174021993298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FCK YR NYZE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOW PLAYING:&lt;br /&gt;I Hate Myself's "Complete Discography"&lt;br /&gt;Hunter/Gatherer's "Low Standards For High Fives"&lt;br /&gt;La Dispute's "Somewhere at the Bottom of the River Between Vega and Altair"&lt;br /&gt;Cross My Heart's "Temporary Contemporary"&lt;br /&gt;Arcade Fire's "Funeral"&lt;br /&gt;A Day in Black and White's "My Heroes Have Always Killed Cowboys"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-5091740916266198940?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/5091740916266198940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=5091740916266198940' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/5091740916266198940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/5091740916266198940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-day-to-day-kills-me.html' title='Get bolder'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SsrBDvEqI1I/AAAAAAAAAB4/PFZ0sIScwnk/s72-c/In_Her_Absence_by_Wicked_Little_Town.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-6593803533375942940</id><published>2009-10-02T11:22:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T00:20:36.349-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cope</title><content type='html'>I know the sink and the rot gut feeling, "is this happening to me?" And I know what it's like to want to end it all. Driving home between the lines in the road, I swear that i've been through this before. When nothing makes much sense except for doing yourself in. Everything is hard to hold when we're hit in the heart with problems that won't shift. It's hard to admit that we're afraid, when we're hit in the head with unanswered questions that repeat "how could I ever live after this day?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can take the hits and grow tougher, collect ourselves to live longer, and find there is no need to be afraid. Because we all have more to offer when we struggle, to cope with whatever it takes to make the sayings "we all have what it takes to make it home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOW PLAYING:&lt;br /&gt;Hot Water Music's "No Division"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-6593803533375942940?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/6593803533375942940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=6593803533375942940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/6593803533375942940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/6593803533375942940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-know-sink-and-rot-gut-feeling-is-this.html' title='Cope'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-5475558568195252548</id><published>2009-09-24T10:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T00:14:25.553-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Scared/Scarred</title><content type='html'>I'm pretty sure I've never been this scared. &lt;br /&gt;Not ever&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-5475558568195252548?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/5475558568195252548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=5475558568195252548' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/5475558568195252548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/5475558568195252548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/09/im-pretty-sure-ive-never-been-this.html' title='Scared/Scarred'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-3429055595871074689</id><published>2009-09-24T01:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T00:14:42.512-04:00</updated><title type='text'>1990s</title><content type='html'>www.fuckyeahemo.tumblr.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check it&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-3429055595871074689?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/3429055595871074689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=3429055595871074689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/3429055595871074689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/3429055595871074689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/09/emo.html' title='1990s'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-2482302913675538495</id><published>2009-09-23T02:52:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T00:20:18.258-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Love Lies</title><content type='html'>Wake alone&lt;br /&gt;Live alone&lt;br /&gt;Sleep alone&lt;br /&gt;Die alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be loved, and live with it&lt;br /&gt;Love no one and truly live&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Commitments to others/places/ideas are just burdens. Burdens on selfishness, burdens on experiences, burdens on freedom, burdens on spontaneity. Burdens on fullness, burdens on feelings, burdens on the past, burdens on the present, and burdens on the future. Burdens on an open mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To truly live a life, you must act in singularity. No reliance on others, no reliance on others, no reliance on others. This is not a necessity. If you can not live to be your own person, how will you live at all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just a lost soul, so are you perhaps?&lt;br /&gt;Wandering through the mundane facets of a faulted life&lt;br /&gt;Pre-conceived notions, expectations&lt;br /&gt;Dank submission&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy the real world, i'll be living&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love not, for you will not live&lt;br /&gt;OR&lt;br /&gt;Live not, for you will not die alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Choose your fate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOW PLAYING:&lt;br /&gt;La Dispute's "Somewhere at the Bottom of the River Between Vega and Altair"&lt;br /&gt;Harrison Bergeron's "Harrison Bergeron"&lt;br /&gt;Pg. 99's "Document #1-14"&lt;br /&gt;Hemyah's "Epiphany Series"&lt;br /&gt;Khonnor's "Handwriting"&lt;br /&gt;Grand Archives's "Keep in Mind, Frankenstein"&lt;br /&gt;Ryan Adams's "Suicide Handbook"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-2482302913675538495?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/2482302913675538495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=2482302913675538495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/2482302913675538495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/2482302913675538495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/09/life-love-lies.html' title='Life Love Lies'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-1980640308686853961</id><published>2009-09-11T00:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T00:19:25.318-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer sends</title><content type='html'>So I think I may have seen the last lightning bug of the season. Autumn, winter, spring, summer. I guess that makes a year of noting, a year of nothing, a year of yawns, a year of deep sighs, a year of far too many cigarettes. Just a year. Really, how many more like this can I take? I guess the best of the worst, at the very least, has been this musical abomination. But I keep rolling, moving forward. As far as I can tell, I've become a better person, I've grown up, I've grown absolutely accustomed to the severe and utter lacking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOW PLAYING:&lt;br /&gt;S's "Puking &amp; Crying"&lt;br /&gt;Rainer Maria's "Long Knives Drawn"&lt;br /&gt;Blacklisted's "Heavier Than Heaven, Lonelier Than God"&lt;br /&gt;Hot Water Music's "A Flight and a Crash"&lt;br /&gt;Matchbox 20's "Yourself or Someone Like You"&lt;br /&gt;Touche Amore's "Touche Amore"&lt;br /&gt;Fugazi's "Repeater"&lt;br /&gt;American Nightmare's "Year One"&lt;br /&gt;Leonard Cohen's "The Essential Leonard Cohen"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-1980640308686853961?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/1980640308686853961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=1980640308686853961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/1980640308686853961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/1980640308686853961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/09/summer-sends.html' title='Summer sends'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-8935457190641340365</id><published>2009-08-25T00:45:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T00:18:28.087-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Death is apparent</title><content type='html'>The older we get, the darker each and every night really seems. I swear that it's the truth.&lt;br /&gt;With every passing year, another star burns out to black.&lt;br /&gt;Soon enough we'll all be standing in the dark of night terrified for our lives.&lt;br /&gt;Terrified for ourselves; terrified of ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stream of consciousness:&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure, though, that we'll learn to illuminate the eves with our steadfast nature. We have ingenuity, we have level heads. A beacon of light protruding from our never hindered souls. We are bigger than all of this. Or so you seem think we are. With nature on our side, we can do no wrong. With God on our side, we will always prosper. Tongue in cheek.&lt;br /&gt;We will always conquer.&lt;br /&gt;We will always be on the right side. With that said, we can do no wrong.&lt;br /&gt;Righteous, pious, and true.&lt;br /&gt;Atone for your wrong doings. That is all you need. No remorse, no accountability.&lt;br /&gt;No necessity to act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But wait! Aren't we all just in the middle of this game? The game of "who has it worse." We seem to have such an insatiable affinity to the game. Suffering is key to get ahead. But suffering is key to feigning a life of mocked trials and tribulations. &lt;br /&gt;A disgusting game. Easy life, you lose. Hard life, your fault. Lose/lose situation.&lt;br /&gt;Go directly to jail. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. OR&lt;br /&gt;Falsify your sentence, make yourself suffer for the sake of your art, and for the story you will tell. Charm and wit and a gaping hole in your face (a gorgeous smile). This is how to get by.&lt;br /&gt;Your life is hard or it is easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO NOT INFLICT PAIN&lt;br /&gt;DO NOT THINK OF YOURSELF&lt;br /&gt;DO NOT ACT CALLOUSLY&lt;br /&gt;DO NOT SLEEP EASY AT NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;DO NOT SLEEP AT ALL&lt;br /&gt;DON'T OPT FOR EASE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAKE WHAT IS NECESSARY&lt;br /&gt;MAKE A CHANGE&lt;br /&gt;KILL ALL EMOTION&lt;br /&gt;ELECT LOGIC&lt;br /&gt;ELECT MORALITY&lt;br /&gt;ELECT KINDNESS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You aren't worth saving. Neither am I.&lt;br /&gt;Save the world before you save yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOW PLAYING:&lt;br /&gt;Envy's "Abyssal"&lt;br /&gt;Rainer Maria's "Long Knives Drawn"&lt;br /&gt;Modest Mouse's "No One's First and You're Next"&lt;br /&gt;Park's "It Won't Snow Where You're Going"&lt;br /&gt;Benton Falls's "Guilt Beats Hate"&lt;br /&gt;Small Brown Bike's "Nail Yourself to the Ground"&lt;br /&gt;Further Seems Forever's "The Moon Is Down"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-8935457190641340365?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/8935457190641340365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=8935457190641340365' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/8935457190641340365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/8935457190641340365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/08/death-is-apparent.html' title='Death is apparent'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-7115087669840135906</id><published>2009-04-27T09:16:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T09:17:05.341-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Colder, Blacker Destination</title><content type='html'>All the integrity in the world just isn't worth the heart ache.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-7115087669840135906?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/7115087669840135906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=7115087669840135906' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/7115087669840135906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/7115087669840135906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/04/colder-blacker-destination.html' title='A Colder, Blacker Destination'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-6816812672692429000</id><published>2009-04-14T10:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T10:12:58.228-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My mother always told me, "You must fight for what you believe in."&lt;br /&gt;My grandfather always told me, "If something is worth doing, it is worth doing well."&lt;br /&gt;Don't believe a god-damned word of it. The whole fucking world is a hideous, dirty, selfish, back stabbing shit hole. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll tell you what I wish they had told me.&lt;br /&gt;First off, don't ever fight for a thing. You get what you put in; sheer bull shit in the end. Nothing will ever come of it. You will put all of yourself into something, and just get shafted at the end of the day. Nothing will ever amount to the expectations you place, when you actually truly put yourself into that worthy struggle. No one else possesses the ability or desire to meet you even half way. That is, unless their own personal and selfish goals momentarily align with your true and just intents.&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, nothing is worth doing well. You won't ever get so much as a thank you. Master the art of bull-shit, master the art of small talk, master the art of self interest, master the art of charm, master the art of lying under the feigned guise of ignorance. These are the things that will get you everywhere and everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck your ideals. Learn how to be cute and charming. That is all you need to get by. Nothing that is preached is practiced and nothing considered sacred is truly valued. Integrity is dead, chivalry is dead, morality is dead. Fake your way out of all the things that are difficult. Never confront anything, never put any of yourself into anything. This is the key to happiness. Just make yourself too damn dumb to know any better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give up now, and compromise what it is that you truly, or just claim to believe in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alone, miserable and proud. Or completely content and stupid enough to be happy in your comfortably numb state. Do drugs, get drunk, eat McDonalds, watch reruns, find faith in a storybook savior. You won't be happy either way; but at least with the latter set of suggestions, you're just too dumb to know any better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never care about anything. It only ends in heart br(ache).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://ourwhippets.web-log.nl/strippoker_whippets_itali/images/denzeltigerindi.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the meek few, honesty remains though. As hard as you try to push it away, you know it will always be waiting and rearing with the strength of one thousand horses. At least know that you are in the good graces and company of such warriors as Chris Simpson and myself. All vanity aside, it's just that I know no others fitting of this description.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I STAND ON A BUILDING AND THROW UP MY ARMS TO THE SKY/I SWALLOW MY PRIDE AND ADMIT THAT IT'S NOT ALWAYS BEST TO UNDERSTAND THE REASONS WHY/IT'S JUST NOT THE SAME WHEN YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING WITH A SMILE ON YOUR FACE/WHEN YOU KNOW YOU LIED YOURSELF TO SLEEP TO MAKE IT BETTER/I KNOW I'VE GOT TO LIVE MY LIFE/ROLL AROUND ON THE GROUND AND FEEL THE STRIFE/I WILL NEVER FORGET HOW YOU TAUGHT ME TO STAND ON THESE RUBBER LEGS AND FIGHT/I TRY TO SPEAK BUT THE TEARS CHOK THE WORDS/I THINK I FINALLY KNOW WHAT THEY MEAN WHEN THY TALK ABOUT JOY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHEN I'M FINALLY NAKED AND STANDING IN THE SUNLIGHT, I'LL LOOK BACK AT ALL THIS SELFISHNESS AND FOOLISH PRIDE AND LAUGH AT MYSELF&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Now Playing;&lt;br /&gt;Mineral's "The Power of Failing"&lt;br /&gt;Mineral's "EndSerenading"&lt;br /&gt;The Gloria Record's "The Gloria Record"&lt;br /&gt;The Gloria Record's "A Lull in Traffic"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-6816812672692429000?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/6816812672692429000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=6816812672692429000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/6816812672692429000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/6816812672692429000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-mother-always-told-me-you-must-fight.html' title=''/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-1205215459611496247</id><published>2009-04-13T19:32:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T10:38:40.287-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Change?</title><content type='html'>"As we stand with our backs to the breakers, we are looking down on a world gone dark. Where golden seas once washed on pristine shores. As we stand with our backs to the breakers, we are looking down on a world in pain. And though we may die young, I swear we won't die in vain. We are a new faith. We are a new face. We are everything in this world that personifies change."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above is a transcript of lyrics I sing in a song that my band performs. I recently introduced this song - linking it to a prior speech on how the questioning of authority can be the first step to change - by describing what this song is supposed to encapsulate. I explained that this song is meant to call people to action, in essence. Things in the world are in a very poor place right now and, in my mind, the only feasible way to have a desirable outcome is to change our ways of thinking and acting towards a positive outcome. We must make the world a better place. We must focus on that final desired out come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this aside, though. As soon as I had finished describing the intent of this song, I found myself being heckled by kids in the crowd. And the reason astounded me. Their exact words were, "Then why did you vote for Obama?". Mind you, this was your standard group of ratty punk rock anarchist kids. They're everywhere, in every town, living in their parents' half million dollar houses, continually spewing pure uninformed, unthought out, shit from their mouths. And usually I just ignore them. But, for some reason, this time it just enraged me. I was the bigger man and I didn't give them the satisfaction of getting me worked up. I offered them a logical discussion after our set. Ironically enough, no one really seemed interested in having any political discussions afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, this whole post has been about how annoyed I was with these mere children. But, now I must discuss the reality and sanity, or lack of, in regards to what they brought up. I will put this in very plain English. Short and concise statements. Hopefully, my opinion and my point will be well illustrated. I just hope that everyone is coherent enough to give an altering view point a chance. Open-mindedness is a gem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, here it goes:&lt;br /&gt;Obama is different than the last eight, even perhaps the last 28 years. Obama is different than McCain would have been, had he won. McCain or Obama were going to win, end of story. Obama isn't perfect. Obama is still a part of the flawed big government, bureaucratic system. But, a drastic change is not going to happen over night. With Obama, standards were pushed to a new radical level that mainstream society hadn't seen before. No one is saying that Obama is great and we need not continue fighting. But, given the circumstances in November, Obama was a wise choice. His ideas will stretch the status quo. They will make what is accepted by the populous a more greatly expanded set of ideals. In conclusion, Obama was a logical and much needed step towards betterment. He isn't the ideal and he is quite flawed in many ways, but he truly brings us one step closer to that ideal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Listen to the song, "A Necessary Change", at http://www.last.fm/music/Trunks%2B%2526%2BTales/Tour+EP.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-1205215459611496247?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/1205215459611496247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=1205215459611496247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/1205215459611496247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/1205215459611496247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/04/change.html' title='Change?'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-873781243987189229</id><published>2009-04-12T09:07:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T09:12:13.192-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday mentality</title><content type='html'>I am pretty certain that the person who created all holidays is the same person that created families to spend these holidays with. This place is empty today, moreso than all the other days. Or, at least, it feels that way. Perhaps the weather will shape up. Fingers crossed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Now  Playing:&lt;br /&gt;Bonnie Prince Billy &amp; Matt Sweeney "Superwolf"&lt;br /&gt;J Church "Travels in Hyper-Reality"&lt;br /&gt;Farside "Rigged"&lt;br /&gt;Lucero "Tennessee"&lt;br /&gt;Whiskeytown "Stranger's Almanac"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-873781243987189229?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/873781243987189229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=873781243987189229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/873781243987189229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/873781243987189229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/04/holiday-mentality.html' title='Holiday mentality'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-2337812185410048423</id><published>2009-04-01T11:49:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T11:56:24.318-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Moot</title><content type='html'>The best time for giving up is when you have nothing left to give. After all, you've nothing left to lose. And, similarly, the best time to shut up is when you have nothing left worth saying. On nights such as these, everything is foreign and utterly terrifying. Embrace this if you are fortunate to have the ability to do so. After all, the best time to start over is when you have nothing; a clean slate. Otherwise, just cease all being. All loving, all caring, all hope is now completely null and void. Moot point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was never worth the effort; not once, not ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Now playing:&lt;br /&gt;Rival Schools "United By Fate"&lt;br /&gt;The Blow "Bonus Album"&lt;br /&gt;Mirah "C'mon Miracle"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-2337812185410048423?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/2337812185410048423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=2337812185410048423' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/2337812185410048423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/2337812185410048423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/04/moot.html' title='Moot'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-4297231644921376604</id><published>2009-03-29T23:24:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T00:16:11.680-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Eternity</title><content type='html'>The only things we have to cling to are our own insecurities, ineptitudes, self doubts, and personal lackings. Hold on dearly. Life depends on this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Now Playing:&lt;br /&gt;Mount Eerie's "Dawn"&lt;br /&gt;Black Heart Procession's "2"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-4297231644921376604?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/4297231644921376604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=4297231644921376604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/4297231644921376604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/4297231644921376604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/03/eternity.html' title='Eternity'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-2473178256569728066</id><published>2009-03-29T01:25:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T02:12:10.886-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Friendships?</title><content type='html'>I will not say that my friends are the best a person could have. And you certainly can not assert that about your friends either. Those contentions and those claims are just riddled with so much circumstantial and situational back stock. I can say, though, that I do have some of the best friends possible for myself in my current situation and with my current mindset. They ruin me regularly and they disappoint me often, but I feel one hundred percent comfortable letting them know when they do this. And I find that to be one of the few truly important aspects. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I personally struggle through every second of every day. "Take it one day at a time," they say. But I will do you one better. One meager hour of joy in any given day can make the world a joyous place for me. I truly take it one hour at a time. As I struggle, though,  through every second of every day, these people who I could claim are the best friends ever, give me momentary, and not so momentary, lapses of solitude every single day. And I think that is something that keeps me sane. Or, at the very least, it keeps me breathing in this crazy world. After all, we as a race of human beings are just a fluke of nature. Our higher sense of thought and comprehension was not given to us for any higher reason, but we must cope with it nonetheless. A blessing and a curse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can see and believe and hope. We are one meager mental step above mere animals. Like I said, a blessing and a curse. Because for every moment that we are wallowing in grief and selfish mutilation of the mind, we have an equal capacity to do and believe in goodness and solitude. This is what gets me through the days. I swear I have nothing substantial to offer this world, but if I can aid someone to make it through one shitty day, such as all the ones I have experienced, then I can sleep a little easier at night; one hour at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it comes down tot he basics, friends are a necessary evil. These are individuals in which we learn every fatal flaw. We are but animals though. And, with this, we are imperfect. But the thing that sets us apart is that with every flaw we recognize in each other, we have the capacity to embrace an equal amount of good in one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore, while I may not have the best friends any given individual can have, I do have the best friends I could have considering all my current standings and situations. For what is true, is that I have surrounded myself with the very few people whose flaws I can tolerate. Because for every time I feel so betrayed by their misleadings, I fill that void with hope for their redemption.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great friends do not exist. This is a fact. Learn this quickly. You will be destroyed by these people you call friends, and they will betray you and disrupt your peace of mind. Forgivable relationships, though, can and should abound. For, with peace of mind comes the ability to forgive the people that surround you for their misgivings. After all, I'm sure that YOU WOULD WANT THE SAME DONE FOR YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Now Playing:&lt;br /&gt;Further Seems Forever's "The Moon Is Down"&lt;br /&gt;Blacklisted's "Heavier Than Heaven, Lonelier Than God"&lt;br /&gt;Bill Callahan's "Woke On A Whaleheart"&lt;br /&gt;Converge's "Caring And Killing"&lt;br /&gt;Ben Trickey's "Pretty Little Wave"&lt;br /&gt;Third Eye Blind's "Third Eye Blind"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-2473178256569728066?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/2473178256569728066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=2473178256569728066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/2473178256569728066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/2473178256569728066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/03/friendships.html' title='Friendships?'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-2400164500515449722</id><published>2009-03-19T20:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T20:22:22.073-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hopeless, Hope-ness</title><content type='html'>As far as it is all concerned, I believe that we all are useless and without worth. We all deserve to be stripped of our commodities, our vices, our allowances; we are to be made whole again. By means of absolute apathy, we will give up all we hold dear, first and foremost life and freedom itself. Accept defeat, expect defeat. The future is a dark and looming place, and the only gleaming light is the hope for betterment and refinement. All things considered, we deserve what comes to us - if not worse. Give up now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-2400164500515449722?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/2400164500515449722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=2400164500515449722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/2400164500515449722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/2400164500515449722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/03/hopeless-hope-ness.html' title='Hopeless, Hope-ness'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-3351093989257610398</id><published>2009-02-13T15:51:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T15:59:08.953-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Self Hype!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SZXfEF4QVZI/AAAAAAAAABg/dq-To0Noix8/s1600-h/n71600448_30622593_1801.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SZXfEF4QVZI/AAAAAAAAABg/dq-To0Noix8/s320/n71600448_30622593_1801.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302389397689226642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miscellaneous things from my band, Trunks &amp; Tales (myspace.com/trunkstales). Really, this is just an archive of these things, simply for my own sanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mediafire.com/?ujjgznv1c5m"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Jesus Saves&lt;/span&gt; download&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mediafire.com/file/z3dktzvyhqj/Tour"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Tour EP&lt;/span&gt; download&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/albertarose86"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Videos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/IUA1WunNshc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/IUA1WunNshc&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-3351093989257610398?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/3351093989257610398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=3351093989257610398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/3351093989257610398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/3351093989257610398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/02/self-hype.html' title='Self Hype!'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SZXfEF4QVZI/AAAAAAAAABg/dq-To0Noix8/s72-c/n71600448_30622593_1801.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-85936890483770942</id><published>2009-02-13T10:31:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T10:54:48.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The life of Carissa's Wierd</title><content type='html'>CARISSA'S WIERD&lt;br /&gt;This band crafts some of the most perfectly orchestrated songs of love and love lost. Oh, so good. The way Jenn Ghetto's voice mingles with Mat Brooke's voice just kills me. Absolutely decimates my soul. And I wouldn't have it any other way. This song is my absolute favorite. Her voice reeks of desperation and just drips with the sentiment of a person who has given up all conceivable means of hope that things will change. God, why do we even wake in the mornings?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/S7zHZrcHdxg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/S7zHZrcHdxg&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S&lt;br /&gt;After Carissa's Wierd split, Jenn Ghetto branched off on her own with the solo project entitled S. Believe me, the beautiful songs only continued. Here is a fan-made video of one of her best songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HsshFO4ZHqw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HsshFO4ZHqw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose there are other bands that formed out of Carissa's Wierd, but I don't need to tell you about them. It's easy enough to do your own research. Logical trains of research follow:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carissa's Wierd -&gt; Jenn Ghetto/Mat Brooke collaboration on a tribute to the Six Parts Seven covering "On Marriage" -&gt; Nov.16 -&gt; Horses -&gt; Band of Horses -&gt; The Grand Archives&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carissa's Wierd -&gt; Jenn Ghetto/Mat Brooke collaboration on a tribute to the Six Parts Seven covering "On Marriage" -&gt; S -&gt; Jenn Ghetto's pseudo metal band of which I do not recall the name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carissa's Wierd -&gt; Sera Cahoone solo career&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-85936890483770942?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/85936890483770942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=85936890483770942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/85936890483770942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/85936890483770942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/02/life-of-carissas-wierd.html' title='The life of Carissa&apos;s Wierd'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-9201242771950218338</id><published>2009-02-03T19:22:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T19:31:20.207-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Now, the present</title><content type='html'>I, today February 3 2009, proclaim that I will begin writing once again. I swear it! I will begin to write more here again, and hopefully in a zine with all my friends. Meanwhile, a picture of me from nearly a year ago:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SYjgU4W7GDI/AAAAAAAAABQ/-gBrsP2wf9E/s1600-h/n1469700149_30102696_9478.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SYjgU4W7GDI/AAAAAAAAABQ/-gBrsP2wf9E/s320/n1469700149_30102696_9478.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298731610931927090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-9201242771950218338?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/9201242771950218338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=9201242771950218338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/9201242771950218338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/9201242771950218338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-today-february-3-2009-proclaim-that-i.html' title='Now, the present'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SYjgU4W7GDI/AAAAAAAAABQ/-gBrsP2wf9E/s72-c/n1469700149_30102696_9478.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-7047788695871626769</id><published>2009-01-31T01:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T01:06:17.453-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Activity</title><content type='html'>We have come to rest our heads in foreign places. Foreign people and foreign sounds become increasingly familial with every passing hour, and with every passing day. This is unstepped territory and this is unspoken prose, even if only for the time being. We will replace the familial with the foreign. But, eventually, the things we hadn't truly known become the norm.&lt;br /&gt;And once again, we have come full circle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change your ways every day&lt;br /&gt;Change the things within you&lt;br /&gt;Look for grace in every place&lt;br /&gt;Find the grace that defines you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For, if we continue to practice the same old routines, traditions, and expectations; we will, at best, become stagnant in our ways and in our attitudes. And, as is known by all who have considered the idea, stagnancy breeds nothing short of apathy, indifference, and lethargy. And, with these traits, we will never do a thing, let alone conquer hearts and minds. After all, to truly accomplish anything at all, we must act and we must show our colors. And, if our inactivity has laid our initiative dead on the ground, we have no room to complain about the circumstances we've let fester. We should know first hand. Because as we have allowed each of our bodies to progressively degrade to nothingness, at the same time we've allowed progress to do the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get up, do something&lt;br /&gt;Get up, improve yourself&lt;br /&gt;Get up, improve others&lt;br /&gt;Get up, and be the best you know how to be&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-7047788695871626769?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/7047788695871626769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=7047788695871626769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/7047788695871626769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/7047788695871626769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/01/activity.html' title='Activity'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-7765514556850194142</id><published>2009-01-30T15:37:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T19:31:07.098-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ben Trickey</title><content type='html'>This is a guest piece I did for the music blog Nine Bullets (ninebullets.net). It's a rad blog that covers really great music. Be sure to check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SYNlRX5UuKI/AAAAAAAAABI/PzQFCP_Rj5I/s1600-h/Polaroid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 264px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SYNlRX5UuKI/AAAAAAAAABI/PzQFCP_Rj5I/s320/Polaroid.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297188935864465570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben Trickey, an Alabama native, an Atlanta transplant, a heartbreakingly honest crafter of songs. Born in 1979, Trickey began writing songs in 2001, and has since crafted four full-length albums, six EPs, and one split album with friend and fellow songwriter Brandon Schmitt. His americana-meets-indie/folk style has allowed him to grace the stage with renowned artists such as The Grand Archives, William Elliot Whitmore, Sera Cahoone, and Horse Feathers. What’s more, though, is Trickey has seemingly done all of this utilizing a DIY mentality, with little to no label assistance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I understand it may be difficult to fully realize Ben Trickey’s musical style from the previous blurb. So, I ask you to imagine the following. You step into a southern dive bar, located on a side street in that first rural town outside the city limits – a place where, when dark, you can really hear the crickets and you can really feel the night. The place you go to hide from your fears with a pitcher of PBR – rustic and run down, but homey and welcoming just the same. In the corner you notice a stage, a small platform, really, with a lone microphone. On that stage stands Ben Trickey, with his guitar and his beers. As he sings his quiet, bare-bones songs, you notice that he isn’t singing to anyone in particular, let alone the few patrons of the bar. Perhaps he’s just singing to himself, as a reassurance that he can make it through the night. As he sings his slow, simple songs, you are taken back to a dustbowl-era mentality. A time when the folk singers were few and far between; a time when the folk singers weren’t just good, they were damn near perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/o9J0ObZydWQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/o9J0ObZydWQ&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Absolutely give Ben Trickey a chance. I think his tired heart deserves it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recommended if you like: Van Morrison, Lucero/Ben Nichols, M. Ward, Neko Case, Pedro the Lion, The Grand Archives, quiet Drive By Truckers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bentrickey.com/audio/Soldier.mp3"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soldier&lt;/a&gt; by Ben Trickey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bentrickey.com/audio/Cheap%20Wine%20and%20Cigarettes.mp3"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheap Wine and Cigarettes&lt;/a&gt; by Ben Trickey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bentrickey.com/audio/Absence.mp3"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Absence&lt;/a&gt; by Ben Trickey&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-7765514556850194142?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/7765514556850194142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=7765514556850194142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/7765514556850194142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/7765514556850194142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/01/ben-trickey.html' title='Ben Trickey'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SYNlRX5UuKI/AAAAAAAAABI/PzQFCP_Rj5I/s72-c/Polaroid.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-3344180171465727681</id><published>2009-01-16T14:45:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T16:02:27.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'>An open letter to Bill O'Reilly</title><content type='html'>Dearest Bill O'Reilly,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to address your repeated claim of the supposed "Bush haters". In reality, it seems that the people you call out are, in fact, just very partisan leaning liberals. The fact that they hate George Bush is a moot point due to the fact that what they really are doing is not necessarily pushing against Bush, but staunchly adhering to their liberal beliefs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So really, the core of the problem here is strict partisanship. But, when you call out these people as "Bush haters" you are falling victim to the partisanship problem as well. For, you are not also calling out the haters that exist on the extreme right wing of the spectrum too. In this lack of condemnation for the extreme right wing partisanship that is also occurring, you make it seem as though you have pardoned them for their equally poor partisan judgments. I feel if you want to maintain any kind of credibility in your news-casting, you must condemn all partisan adherence, rather than just the liberal side of this spectrum. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, you are always condemning NBC for its liberal leanings. But you never condemn your own network for its own conservative leanings. Fox News is no less of a "hate monger" than is the NBC network. You can't just call out those who do not agree with you, and let those you do agree with to get away with everything you've already condemned on the other side of the spectrum. This is not a fair and even approach that you are taking with the condemnation of "Bush haters". The overarching problem is extreme partisan politics on both sides of the spectrum; and you must condemn this behavior on both sides, not just the side you disagree with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you very much; and I look forward to your response.&lt;br /&gt;Daniel Anderson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-3344180171465727681?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/3344180171465727681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=3344180171465727681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/3344180171465727681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/3344180171465727681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2009/01/open-letter-to-bill-oreilly.html' title='An open letter to Bill O&apos;Reilly'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-3583914758199894089</id><published>2008-10-01T01:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T01:56:17.866-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Travel in/Traveling</title><content type='html'>If I were to try&lt;br /&gt;To wriggle my way out&lt;br /&gt;Of a stupendously sticky situation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that they all&lt;br /&gt;Would call me back home&lt;br /&gt;To the utmost of familiar  locations&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my bed makes me ache&lt;br /&gt;And my house makes me shiver&lt;br /&gt;And this town makes me quake to the bone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll spend the remainder&lt;br /&gt;Of my life dreaming&lt;br /&gt;Of a life on the road and a vision so clear&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-3583914758199894089?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/3583914758199894089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=3583914758199894089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/3583914758199894089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/3583914758199894089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2008/10/travel-intraveling.html' title='Travel in/Traveling'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-595200250438056910</id><published>2008-09-05T23:48:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T19:17:50.199-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Salvation</title><content type='html'>The struggles make you stronger. The experience makes you wiser. Misery is the marrow of your being.  Never befriend your demons. Push them away, fight them off, exile them to distant spaces. For, they will haunt you as specters of your own ineptitude and insecurities.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-595200250438056910?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/595200250438056910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=595200250438056910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/595200250438056910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/595200250438056910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2008/09/trunks-tales-jesus-saves.html' title='Salvation'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-6359353415755166852</id><published>2008-05-26T21:26:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T09:46:53.510-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Weeks, Two Days, Twelve Hours</title><content type='html'>We pushed ourselves to the absolute lengths that our weary legs could take us.  Whether it be by foot, or by pedal or by broken thought, we trekked until we could not trek a single inch more.  That is what we lived for that summer.  And we had to remember that this wasn’t like the winter weekend we spent in that summer spot.  And then, every time it began to rain, we cleansed ourselves – body and mind – of the rot that had been building up for those prior weeks (two weeks, if you value perfection of detail the way that we did).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I’ll always remember that weekend that our failed candidate endorsed the front-runner.  I guess that meant that we had to ascribe ourselves to one of them.  Somehow, it felt like we were choosing not only a political future, but a future for ourselves as well.  And that summer seemed like it was going to be defined by the likes of Billie Holiday, Patsy Cline, Ella Fitzgerald and even Ol’ Blue Eyes himself.  And, though it was never spoken, it seems we made a vow to remain thin that summer.  After all, “consumption is just a vice,” I always said.  Perhaps it was noble the way we stripped ourselves of vices, but new ones always came to monopolize those vacant places.  Smoke in our lungs, profanities on our tongues or ire in our hearts towards those that were always to have meant the world to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as far as I can tell, we will break any day now.  We will meet an all new us.  We will hurt those that are everything.  We will abandon those past times that occupied our times in the past.  This is something that I know is inevitable.  Therefore, I apologize in advance.  And, in advance, I accept your apologies as well.  Let us put forth the effort to stay together, but we can never turn down new experiences.  I have faith in this, I have faith in individuals, I have faith in solidarity.  Mostly, though, I have faith in the beauty of a stranger’s face – before familiarity consumes all.  That is truly the most alluring and fascinating time in the relationship between us all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-6359353415755166852?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/6359353415755166852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=6359353415755166852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/6359353415755166852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/6359353415755166852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2008/05/two-weeks-two-days-twelve-hours.html' title='Two Weeks, Two Days, Twelve Hours'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-3970716601723713397</id><published>2008-05-05T02:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T02:05:10.285-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Greatness</title><content type='html'>So I guess life will always be defined, not by its achievements, but by its tragic and persistent self-loathing landfalls.  This is where I am, and the anxieties and compulsive obsessions that run thick like mud through my family have once again attacked my pride and my sanity.  So, now I’ve found that I must just figure out my life.  Perhaps I just need to learn to live it on my own terms.  I need not ascribe myself to that American dream.  After all, it is no more than an available option, not the expectation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really pray that this is the case.  And I just hope that when I am upon my death bed, I will finally sleep soundly with the person I am, the things I’ve done, and the values I’ve held.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-3970716601723713397?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/3970716601723713397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=3970716601723713397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/3970716601723713397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/3970716601723713397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2008/05/greatness.html' title='Greatness'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-3748341635559235464</id><published>2008-05-01T08:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T08:25:21.734-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Boldness</title><content type='html'>And as I approached those cross roads, a decision was forced upon me.  Not based on preference or penchant, but upon necessity.  As I could see, these roads met as if ten million cross hairs had diverged from a singular point.  Not total divergence, though, as there was only a small degree of separation between each.  But, the difference was that I did not have – and certainly could not afford – the luxury of aiming at the center and letting life take hold of the reigns, pulling me to a place that would probably feel like an end, but truly only materialize as a point where rest felt comforting.  And, as any well-weathered traveler can tell you, rest is a dispensable commodity – an unnecessary luxury, if you will.  And, as I have explained prior to this, this choice that I was forced into was not a choice of want, it was a choice of existence; to put it abruptly, an utter choice of life or death, exhaustion or rest, existing or floating, absolute freedom or absolute compliance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this meeting of roads, I saw a singular road sign.  It did not explain or lay out where to go or what lie in each direction, but offered a simple warning.  It read, “Beware, you may become weary; but be wary of natives, for they may cease your travels.”  And underneath this well printed sign, a past traveler had scribbled, “Never rest your head in a familiar bed.  It is strangers that keep you moving so that you may return again.”  With these two messages I realized that my life could play out in an infinite number of ways, a plethora of poor finalities or the handful of seemingly correct paths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I also realized that, perhaps no road was a correct road.  For, all roads would hold a road block of some sort – it was just about choosing the road with the least enticing road blocks and the most distant final resting point.  Then, beneath the sign, etched on a scrap of paper, I saw a final simple message.  “Travel through the weariness, push on forever.  It is not the destination, but the scenery of the travel that makes the road worthwhile.  Live simply, keep moving, experience everything.”  And stapled behind this scrap of paper was a selection of Robert Frost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as I approached nearer to that divergence of roads, I did notice the yellow coloration of the woods surrounding me.  But I can certainly say that I was not sorry that I could not follow both roads.  For I knew that every road was equally beautiful in different ways, but also that each road led to places characterized by comforting senses of mild misery.  And I felt confident in my choice.  It was a dark road, a road of uneasiness.  So I took comfort in this fact, because this road, while terrifyingly new, was a road that led to an open mind, a real life and a future of unknowing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-3748341635559235464?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/3748341635559235464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=3748341635559235464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/3748341635559235464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/3748341635559235464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2008/05/boldness.html' title='Boldness'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3741466083980847270.post-6519358345644248184</id><published>2008-05-01T08:19:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T08:21:30.112-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Hopeful Plea</title><content type='html'>My face hit the floor and it was at that moment that I realized I had jaded.  Is that a reversible fate?  “Once jaded, always jaded.”  I think I read that somewhere – although I’m not quite sure as to what in or whom by.  Prior to that point, I had grandiose dreams of graduating college, attending graduate school and making it.  I wanted to make it.  And now the thought of making it just makes me sick.  Perhaps that is what made me so sickly in the first place – trying to make it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phase one in the glorious American dream – college graduate.  Done; as to how successfully, though, is quite the point of personal contention.  And now all I have to show for it is a degree and the fact that all my passions have become juxtaposed by stark generalized rules.  Vague feelings of content have replaced passion; and passion has disappeared.  Or perhaps passion has just migrated to other realms due to newly occupied feelings of boredom and apathy towards previous passions.  I can assert, after obtaining a music degree, that a degree of higher learning only serves to replace enjoyment with misery in a person’s passion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In hindsight, shouldn’t I be referring to myself not as I, but as ‘one’ – a non-descript clay model meant to represent myself, or all the rest of humanity.  But I am not the rest of humanity, I am me.  Why should I ascribe myself to this set of rules that turns an individual, such as myself, into something that is just a mundane, faceless, overly generalized representation of society.  Am I ranting?  Do the rules allow that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am that college graduate, but with less than grandiose dreams.  I am still jaded, though.  I guess what I heard, wherever it was that I heard it, was correct.  Jadedness is a ramp or hill or incline that, at times, may even itself out a bit; but it never seems to reverse the direction of incline.  Once a person takes that first step off the even concrete into the realm of jadedness, that person just keeps rolling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess becoming jaded hasn’t been all that bad, though.  With jadedness comes honesty – or it seems that way.  One becomes jaded by being exposed to many different things.  Fortunately this also leads to an elevated sense of knowledge and honesty.  But, the ultimate deliberation is whether an elevated sense of knowledge, truth, and honesty is worth the heavy heart, of sorts, that comes along with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that the more I know about the world, the more it gets me feeling older and less hopeful.  But that wisdom also breeds a more highly refined sense of hope.  I know more about the bad that exists in the world, but through this can also see the holes in the world that are just waiting to be filled by good passionate well-meaning people, things, ideas, etc.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve grown older, I’ve grown more experienced, and I’ve grown exceedingly more jaded since the days I looked forward to that grandiose future.  But I’ve also grown wiser, more informed, and bigger as a person.  Naivety was bliss, but knowing allows for change.  Change, in turn, then allows for innocence to blossom hand-in-hand with knowledge.  We can have a future of hope defined not by jaded experience, but by knowledge, goodness, and passion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, standing up with the realization of my now jaded nature, I decided that my bruises and scars from the past would not be battle wounds but pleas for advancement.  From that day forth, my injuries were utilized to spread the message clearly: “Go forth – be good; do good.”  And most importantly, “expose yourself to as much as possible, and take all the best out of everything you encounter.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can do better; you can do better; we can do better – I have hope.  I have a hope.  I have that hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3741466083980847270-6519358345644248184?l=bykeskunx.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/feeds/6519358345644248184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3741466083980847270&amp;postID=6519358345644248184' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/6519358345644248184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3741466083980847270/posts/default/6519358345644248184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bykeskunx.blogspot.com/2008/05/hopeful-plea.html' title='A Hopeful Plea'/><author><name>Byke Skunx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15359685861815005925</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_lnJ-IaO5zPM/SBst6WfPiEI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KABfzZ-LeVQ/S220/n8200405_35556846_2003.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
