Behind the scenes with Joey Sullivan @sullivanjoey
Thanks @luisrafaelphotography for the introduction. This guy is a natural!
#themichaeldowns #michaeldownsvideo #npccompetitor #sixpackabs #fitstagram #fitfam #shredded #malefitnessmodel #thelook (at Saint Petersburg, Florida)
step one: braid your mothers hair every morning. she’ll half-heartedly push you away, but you have your father’s sense of responsibility. “you have his stubbornness, you mule,” she’ll murmur.
ignore the way she spreads her stiff fingers as you pull back her graying curls. ignore the look of disdain she gives them. ignore the way she glances back at the empty spot in the bed where your father used to sleep next to her.
love her as best you can.
step two: when they come, hide the children. shush the sobs let them huddle as close to you as they need to.
when they come for the children scream until your throat is raw.
step three: refuse to tell them anything.
step four: realise you need to tell them some things.
step five: sink into the fire lit beneath your skin and let the rage burning through your soul consume you whole.
know that letting you go was the worst mistake they could’ve made. relish in this.
step six: he is death personified and he is so easy to control. you have death in your hands death at your beck and call. wonder where this death was when you needed him most.
step seven: your emotional wounds are so old that they are festering, attracting flies, maggots. pray to every god you know. pray to any god that will listen. you have your mothers eyes and you know you’re doing her kindness an injustice. with your hands around his throat, you know she wouldn’t be proud.
step eight: let death spark life in you.
step nine: as it all collapses gargle with blood and spit out a tooth that isnt yours. you bear the wounds of an entire people of people you knew, people you cherished of bodies burnt and souls lost. as it all collapses swear you hear their voices.
as it all collapses decide to go home.
step ten: in the depths of midnight think of him and the weight you forced him to carry.
maybe you don’t have your father’s sense of responsibility.
step eleven: don’t be surprised when he finds you. his existence is written into yours, he is stitched into your veins.
you don’t think this could’ve gone any other way.
step twelve: take him home.
step thirteen: feel tensions unravel and stop setting metaphorical on fires and start lighting some real ones. he always forgets to put one on.
step fourteen: be content that the first time you exchange “i love you"s will be in the dark, on opposite sides of the bed.
he will say it again in the morning.
step fifteen: braid his hair every morning he’ll lean into your hands, sigh into your touch. "i’m going to make pancakes,” he’ll mumble and sometimes you’ll think you could cry at the domesticity.