Music Videos
Patrick Quezada is the man of God. Skylar Vance is the backslidden sinner — the name he hid behind when entangled in sin, getting high and sleeping around. Here they finally meet: not as enemies, but as one man made whole.
Every video below was created by Patrick using AI — each one a chapter of his testimony, from the darkest nights to the morning he finally found freedom.
Battlefields & Butterflies
A soldier crawls through muddy trenches as tanks roll past and a white flag rises over the wreckage. “This battlefield I’ve been trudging across is too dangerous to save you anymore… When I call for help, who is gonna rescue me when I reach full capacity?” Then the turn: “Sometimes I wish I were a butterfly, having the ability to transform myself into something beautiful that can just fly away.” The battlefield is addiction — and the butterfly is the man he’s becoming.
Russian Roulette
Neon casino lights, high stakes, a performer owning the stage — every spin of the wheel is another gamble with his own life. How many times can a man pull the trigger on himself before the chamber isn’t empty? This one plays like a confession under the bright lights: the thrill, the risk, and the moment he decides to stop playing.
Sick and Tired Rewired
Strapped into a chair in a shadowy lab while machines try to rewire his mind, he fights back — smashing free, tearing through a storm, and ending the video standing guard over a child. “I’m tired of being rewired… it doesn’t give you the right nor the power to think you are bigger than God. His plans are already intact.” A declaration of war against everything that tried to reprogram him.
My Chemical Bromance
Two men bound together by codependency and addiction — brotherhood twisted into chains neither of them can break alone. Through the haze of using and the wreckage it leaves behind, one truth cuts through: “This codependency will not win.” For everyone who’s ever mistaken addiction for love, and lived to tell it.
Property of None
Inside the pulsing nightclub LAVOIE, the beat never stops — and neither does he. “Help me, I’m drowning in a sea of regret… I shoot the devil into my veins. Nothing but a compulsive addiction to meaningless sex remains.” The endless hunt for “another perfect ten” — until the party ends and he’s alone on the floor. The darkest hour, right before the dawn.
Chain Weak Link
Mirrors, movie sets, red carpets — and a man starving behind the spotlight. “People don’t see the pain that I feel within, ’cause I appear to be thin… I eat very small portions every now and then. I never wanna eat again.” A brutally honest confession about body image and disordered eating, ending in shattered glass and a hard-won declaration: “Lithium and Meth are no longer the answer. God is the answer.”
Smile It’s Okay 2 Not Be Okay
A veteran’s spiral told in fragments: the pills on the nightstand, the crash, the hospital bed, the thousand-yard stare. No preaching, no easy answers — just the quiet, radical truth of the title. If you’ve ever smiled through the pain so nobody would ask questions, this one’s for you.
Finally Found
Skip. Jay — gone too soon. Harry — and the abuse. His whole romantic history laid bare, frame by frame, until forgiveness does what nothing else could. It ends in a church with two words that carry the weight of everything before them: “I am free.” His testimony in a single video.
Who’s Keeping Score?
An underground fight club. A neon VR arcade. A dystopian “Social Cohesion Headquarters.” Dragons over a desert wasteland, the yellow brick road into an Emerald City, a mountain built of chessboards. “Lies and broken promises you had within your grip… I choose God, not fear of man.” And the question that answers itself: “Will I forgive and love you anyway? Absolutely.”
Identify Band-Aids
Bandages peel away one by one as light breaks through the wounds underneath. No more covering, no more pretending — just healing, grace, and the slow miracle of becoming whole. Sometimes the bravest thing a man can do is let someone see the scar.
The Unappreciated Gift
“Will I ever be more than a shadow? Sadly, the world has made me a ghost.” Fame, flashing cameras, press headlines, divorce papers — everyone wants a piece of him, nobody sees him. “I am no clone nor carbon copy — get your own gift.” It ends where he’s finally recognized: a recovery room, wrapped in a hug.
Heart Anew
Denver Union Station. A motel room littered with whiskey bottles. Shame in the mirror — then knees on the floor in prayer. “All God wanted me to do was to get on my knees and pray… I am sorry, dear Lord, for the pain I have caused You.” A church, a river baptism, and a final scene that says everything about who he is now: pressing a Bible and a recovery book into a stranger’s hands on the train. “Thank You, dear Lord, for making my heart anew.”
In the End
Motel rooms, cold streets, the fog of war — a man with nothing left but the choice to keep going. “I’ve never been big on accepting handouts… In the end I have learned to forgive all whom have hurt me in the past. As long as I hold on to my faith I can and will succeed.” Forgiveness as the final battlefield, and faith as the way through it.
Brand New Skin / Rescued
A Final Decree of Divorce on the table. An empty park. A quiet kitchen. “The enemy tried to get me to die, then I fell to my knees… no longer want to be a whore, God help me please.” From “the junkie and the pig that I used to be” to a man made new: “When people give me credit I say please hold the applause — the glory goes to Him.”
The Molded Man
The mountain. The casino. The hospital. The bar. The church. The wedding. A life’s worth of battlefields cut together into one relentless climb — ending with a man ascending into the light. The old man shed like dead weight; the new man rising, molded by grace instead of pain.
Freakshow
Step right up. A carnival of clowns, lions, and amusement park lights, where a sailor holds a wooden puppet up to the crowd and the line between performer and prisoner disappears. Under the big top, everyone’s staring — but the question hanging over the midway is whether they’re laughing at the freak, or with him.
Super Glamour Painted Stars
All glitter on the outside — designer shades, velvet ropes, camera flashes. Then the painted smile cracks: “I haven’t been genuinely happy in a fucking while.” Behind the glamour is a man chasing strangers to fill a hole that only keeps getting deeper. The most honest video about the emptiness of the spotlight he’s ever made.
UR My Kryptonite
Drawn like a living comic book: a glowing phone in the rain, a pulsing orb in a lamplit cobblestone alley, a single white balloon drifting upward. “You are my meekness… it needs you to survive.” Even Superman had his weakness — his was love, and he’s done pretending otherwise.
Don’t Spill the Tea Judas Just Like Me
Central Park at night — a lamppost, a bench, and a soldier saying goodbye to the life he swore he left behind. Two exes, two farewells: a hug in an apartment doorway, one last drink at the bar, then the long walk toward the EXIT sign alone. But the city won’t let him forget. Their faces stare down from Times Square billboards, magazine covers, the side of a passing bus — and on the subway, both of them together, holding hands and laughing. “Even if I still give in to the bondage of pornography… the difference is I won’t stay that way.” He gets off the train and climbs the stairs into daylight. And back on that bench, a woman sits down beside him — and writes down her number.
Shameless Bag Whore Fucking Junkie
East Colfax after dark — a backpack, a beer, and a man with nowhere to be but the next doorway. Skylar works the street that raised his addiction: a handshake and a high at Charlie’s, following clouds of lust, and a circle of beautiful men pulling him onto the dance floor, the back aisles of Pleasure’s bookstore where strangers wave him deeper into the darkness. A tall can from the liquor store, the lamplight of Cheesman Park, an open car door. “Question is, which master do I serve? The angel in my heart or the devil in my head?” Once, the bravado cracks — “Someone please help this shameless bag whore” — and the loop swallows it whole: “Give me more!” A hotel hallway. A door opens. A door closes. Everything he owns is on his back, and the night just starts over.
Carnival of No One
A ticket bought with his own hand. Skylar walks into a haunted carnival glowing neon green and orange, hunting a man he met online — checking every ride, phone in hand, while the Reaper follows a few steps behind. In the funhouse, his own reflections laugh and point. And at the end, the man he came to meet pulls back his hood: it was Death all along, holding a crystal ball with a tiny Skylar trapped inside, beating on the glass. He went in looking to belong to someone. He almost became property.
Also on YouTube:
https://youtu.be/xuoBEDEZmsY
This Was Me…….. 💔