Post by Oliver Woodcock on Sept 1, 2014 17:47:23 GMT -6
Anxiety plagued many people, though it seemed to target Oliver more often than others. This, of course, was mostly due to his ability to sense feelings. He’d gotten better at only feeling what he personally wanted to but such strong emotion was hard to ignore, especially his own. He’d been trying to play his instrument of choice, the piano, for at least an hour and a half, but to no avail. He just couldn’t find it in himself to play and try to balance things out when it all seemed to be so futile. Hopelessness was not as common a sensation as anxiety but it hit him much harder. Perhaps he was trying to shoulder a few too many burdens and he should care more about himself than others. Though the thought was appealing, he didn't think it was going to do him any good.
Something wasn’t necessarily wrong with the blonde, though he felt as if nothing was going his way. He had been blind for a while and it had yet to cease being a limitation or a touchy subject. Though his other senses had been strengthened, it was awful not being able to see where he was going. He tripped over little things more often than not and had many things against those who were irresponsible and left their belongings strewn all over everywhere. Of course, he had tools that were available so that didn’t happen, but he was much too concerned with hiding his disability to use anything of the sort. He preferred to keep his weaknesses hidden like many other people. So far he’d not seen anything wrong with that other than a few scrapes and bruises.
If he'd kept his sight he'd have been an entirely different person, he was sure. He would have been confident and strong, great at all he did. A true, legitimate demigod who didn't struggle with daily life. And now he couldn't even manage to do the one thing he enjoyed. Without realizing what was happening, a wave of anger coursed through the young man and he slammed his fingers on the piano, creating the most unharmonious sound possible. He flinched as he realized what he had done, only progressing to rest his elbows on the keys and place his head in his hands. He didn't want to be angry. He didn't want to be blind. He didn't want to be constantly pestered by the nagging thought that he wasn't as good as everyone else. Why couldn't he have just been killed by the monster?
Ollie's mind went to Madeline, how brilliant she was, and decided that his life had definitely been worth living, all considered. In an incredibly desolate mental state he stood, waiting on the color to come back. The color had come through a girl, one he'd been with for a long time. The blonde lingered on the more pleasant thought for a moment before shaking his head, afraid of what could happen in the future. It was true that he worried too much, but truthfully, what could he do? He wasn't like anyone else.
Something wasn’t necessarily wrong with the blonde, though he felt as if nothing was going his way. He had been blind for a while and it had yet to cease being a limitation or a touchy subject. Though his other senses had been strengthened, it was awful not being able to see where he was going. He tripped over little things more often than not and had many things against those who were irresponsible and left their belongings strewn all over everywhere. Of course, he had tools that were available so that didn’t happen, but he was much too concerned with hiding his disability to use anything of the sort. He preferred to keep his weaknesses hidden like many other people. So far he’d not seen anything wrong with that other than a few scrapes and bruises.
If he'd kept his sight he'd have been an entirely different person, he was sure. He would have been confident and strong, great at all he did. A true, legitimate demigod who didn't struggle with daily life. And now he couldn't even manage to do the one thing he enjoyed. Without realizing what was happening, a wave of anger coursed through the young man and he slammed his fingers on the piano, creating the most unharmonious sound possible. He flinched as he realized what he had done, only progressing to rest his elbows on the keys and place his head in his hands. He didn't want to be angry. He didn't want to be blind. He didn't want to be constantly pestered by the nagging thought that he wasn't as good as everyone else. Why couldn't he have just been killed by the monster?
Ollie's mind went to Madeline, how brilliant she was, and decided that his life had definitely been worth living, all considered. In an incredibly desolate mental state he stood, waiting on the color to come back. The color had come through a girl, one he'd been with for a long time. The blonde lingered on the more pleasant thought for a moment before shaking his head, afraid of what could happen in the future. It was true that he worried too much, but truthfully, what could he do? He wasn't like anyone else.
