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Etrail
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Name: Patrick
Country: United States
Birthday: 9/27/1988
Gender: Male
Interests: MUSIC, video games, MMORPGs (some), guitar, writing
Expertise: Amatuer Rock Star, Writer
Occupation: Artist
Industry: Media
Message: message me
Website: visit my website
Member Since:
3/30/2005
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| So somehow slip into the gaps between hypocrite and whore. Dream into the deepest fallacy that rots at the core of that ditch. Instead of a rope, you bring a shovel. Cycling through the depths of worms, incarcerated relatives to the world you once knew. You cast yourself into this with pride, letting acid rain wash away the logic that screams in the closet where you left it. The walls bleed lust. Your head screamed for immediacy. Your body wept for reassurance. You found it alright. Fuck the weight off your shoulders. Fuck away your senses till you feel you've found what you were searching for. Give me a hand, some line to know, that though you sleep alone, it's not what it seems. Sly drops of the clouds drizzle into the cup I'll hold for as long as I can. Though the sip wanes on bitter, I pledge my soul that it is bluer on the inside. Collect from the driplets that run from that grey umbrella, collect them and drown. Drown in that which consumes me. Consume me. Consume me. Allow me to be only that which you are. I know what you think. I think not that which you think, rather that which you think of the one you're hoping is thinking of you. You deserve the cup. I promise you it isn't as bad as you think. I promise. The king has been slain and the allegiances will fail soon, it's all up for grabs. But who wins, the loyal subject or the power-hungry "noble" waiting in the shadows for the last standing in the blood shed? In few things am I so absolute. But I refuse to sink to that. I will be the loyal subject who fights for the good. I refuse to sink. I will never sink. I will face this challenge. I will not ask, nor seek temporary shelter. No fair hand need wipe the dirt, sweat, and fuck from my face. I'll overcome on my own. So back off. The world is mine. Now I must only convince you to make the trade. So turn the amplifiers to the max. Pump your fist in the air as I sing of rain and scream along at the top of your lungs. I will overcome. We will overcome. -Patrick Wolfgang- | | |
| This is a funny little post, the likes of which I should honestly have more of. I'm basically announcing that I probably won't be using my xanga much anymore, if at all. This may not be completely true, I might pick it up from time to time, but certainly no promises. My reasons for this are: 1) I tend to only post at extra emotional times and these posts really let more anger out than anything else and 2) I'm actually starting to keep a little journal/diary that's much more open and honest than this. My feelings towards a xanga were that there shouldn't be bad sides to myself that I'm afraid to share with the world, so why not post it online? While my journal certainly isn't full of guilty confessions, I feel like my writing style on my xanga subconsciously caters to an audience, instead of myself like I feel it should. This journal is for me and so far I've written in it every day; it's a very cool thing to have. Nothing big or amazing, but it helps to set some order in life and it'll leave me a record of my life to look back on.
My last reason for starting said journal is that this is a turning point in my life. I just got out of a 4.5 year relationship and it was hard as hell to adjust. Especially when there were so many ways to just get over it right there. For the first time I realized how easily I really could've gotten a girl. Strangely, I'm not even just referring to picking up the first girl I see, these were some very attractive, intelligent, (list goes on) good girls that I could've gotten with. But thanks to the help of my friends and soul searching, I found the right path. It was the hardest. Don't seek shelter in another girl. Don't seek it in alcohol, drugs, TV, sex, anything. Find shelter in MYSELF. I haven't really been single since I was 16 years old. I've changed SO much since then. I can't just go back to myself the way I was at 16, I have to find my way. I've never been happier with any decision I've made in my entire life. It was hell for a month and a half, but nothing could replace this. It isn't just a feeling that lasts a couple days and then I'm down again. I'm content with my living. I'm strong. I'm independent. She has no power over me, no one does. I fear nothing and smile to everything. Life's still got it's rough patches but they don't even phase me. I'm happy because I am me. I'm not the me that is defined by someone else, simply me. That's an amazing thing. It is truly my wish that all of my friends could discover this amazing state of being. But unfortunately I know for a fact that in some cases that may take a very long time. Especially for those who always take the easiest, fastest way out. Those are the only people that have been able to bring me a hint of sadness lately, knowing that I love them dearly and that they will not find happiness and it isn't because life is dealing them a shitty hand, it's because they're playing it terribly because they're afraid of a rough game.
There is no substitute for solitude. There is no substitute for time.
-Patrick-
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| I just won 4.5 grand street racing. Fuck yes. Guitars, bitchs, here I come.
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| I was in some high school class and I was with some guy I don't know in a partner activity. We had to make a skit based on a phrase and ours was "Going to town". We had written down to do some song with those words in it (that I now can't recall) but then the group before us used the same song so I was look "hold up dude, just follow my lead". So on our turn I got up and sang Stingy's "Mine" song from Lazytown and at the end I held up an imaginary steering wheel and said "Buckle up bitches, we're going to Lazytown." It was epic
That is all
-Patrick-
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| I understand you need to switch the roles around and despise me for the fact that we didn't last. And I will be your punching bag if you'll stay in my past. I understand to have mature dialogue is too much to ask. And I will be your one regret if you'll stay in my past. I understand you delude yourself and sleep with a different guy each night in order to recover fast. And I will let you cheapen sex, if you'll stay in my past. I understand that we can never speak again and your resentment towards me will last. And I will let you forget me, if you'll stay in my past. I understand that you will one day love again and that it's selfish of me to want to ask if you can only live off the memory of me. So please stay in my past...
I found someone. She's moody, but at least it's only to match up with my own swings, not yours. She doesn't mind when I slide my hands up and down her neck, caressing her body and listening to the sounds groaning from her as I do so. The most beautiful melodies go deep into the night. She's pretty, damn pretty. Her frame is perfect as if she is the proof that perfection actually exists; some kind of intelligent design that is obsessed with hammering away all flaws. She makes me smile when I need it and even if I need to break down, she's always waiting to pick me back up. She listens. She answers. She doesn't tell me it's my fault. She doesn't hate me for her own mistakes. She's not a silly little fool waiting on the world to fix her. She hasn't let me down and I know that if we work at it, she never will. I love her. I always will. There are few things I believe to be absolutely true, but I know I will never stop loving her. If I have her, I don't need you. For that, I love you, Cherry. A thousand kisses and heartfelt hugs to last you till we meet again in the crispness of the new day. Tomorrow we're gonna have a blast. That is all that matters. Cherry's my new best friend. It's okay Cherry, just because you're a guitar, I still love you =P
I walk barefoot where the water drowns the sand, with you no longer here to hold my hand, I let go. The ocean makes my swelling heart feel small. The sounds it makes, you won't hear it if I call. I let go.Your skin protected me from sunbeams. Your hands made sure I'd stay intact. I let go. I let go. You were always there to walk me home. With you not here the streets I roam. I let go. I let go. There's a breeze in the air. There's a boat passing over there. There's a calm under the waves as I choose to sink. With your voice in my head, I could float here instead. But there's a calm under the waves, so I choose to sink. I'm tired now, I'll see you when I wake up. I've heard it's pretty where you are. I let go. I let go...
-Patrick-
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