"SURVIVING"

"SURVIVING"

Joseph Quinn made the choice to continue to do what he loves, but that doesn't mean that he isn't scared. Stop trying to downplay it because some of you don't want to admit that some of you guys had a role in that. He looks fucking stressed, he's pointed out how disgusting some of your behavior is. You know what, it's fucking brave of him to still continue to do it despite the fact that he's been stalked, harassed, his friends had been harassed, and he was nearly pushed in front of the way of a moving car. I know he's fucking scared. I see that same look in the mirror. I live in fear of one day that my brother will snap and kill us all. I still do my best to take care of him because he's my brother, and I still remember when he was good, when his illness still hasn't taken over. I know what it's like to love someone, to love something and still be afraid of it. It only takes one crazy fan to kill someone. So don't downplay it because Joseph Quinn made a choice by doing what he loves.

Big man. Strong arms. Tall. Soft tummy. Thighs. Thighs. Thighs. Tummy. Dhbfbnfnjfjdnn.

(For better quality click picture)

Sleepless Nights

I desperately try to grasp onto the darkness that would bring the next day. But sleep eludes me. It hold me awake in a sleeping world. I toss and turn in my bed in hopes it will tire me, but it doesn't work. Every minute the darkness morphs shadows in ever corner, in hopes to haunt me. A branch tapping on the window slowly forms the shape of a hand, seemingly trying to reach through to grasp me, to drag me into the dark outside world.

Tired eyes stare up at the ceiling, buring with every blink, red veins more prominent. Tears start to form in the red eyes. Head pounding with every movement it makes. Body stiff and sore, hoping it would get a goodnight rest. The hours pass by unbearably slow into the next day, the sun slowly peals back the night to bring an orange glow into the dark room. I claw desperately at the sheets in anger.

Why can't I sleep.

I close my eyes trying to force myself to sleep, but nothing comes. Nothing but sadness. As the shadows start to fade and the light gets brighter, the world starts to awaken. The birds singing, the neighborhood starts with a fresh new day, the sound of my father going off to work; all these sounds make me want to cry out in agony from my restless night.

Getting up, my limbs feel week and useless. My eyes blurring, trying to hard to focus on the world around me. I know that it's going to be hard, to not be tempted by the dark, and ghostly hands trying to pull me back into the dark, unconscious of sleep. But I go through the day hoping tonight will be different, that tonight I will fall into a heavy dreamless sleep.

~AcePumpkin~

AcePumpkin-art