Alone-ness
The days were seeming sorta empty and quiet without Tucker and Warren around. Oz kept thinking about calling Cordelia or at least talking to some of the guys at work, but just couldn't think of the right way to start things. Not that Oz didn't enjoy the silence, the alone time, but sometimes the thoughts get talking so loud that it was hard to shut them up. And, as he realized from the past, when you lived in your head all the time, days got a little bent out of shape. He would never admit it to himself or anyone else, but some days he wanted someone to listen to. Listening was his strong point, along with the snarky comment thing. That's why he had gotten along so well with the people he had gotten along with: Devon, Xander, Will, Tucker. They were all talkers and Oz had liked that about them. It was a comfortable rhythm. He was a reactor-- not like a nuclear reactor waiting to explode, but one who didn't often start or finish conversation, just interjected in the middle times.
Whether he was admitting his role to himself or not, Oz was quite sure he needed to get the fuck out of the house. Bars were good for that and he could listen, interject comments in his head and at least stop feeling sorry for himself. Self-pity was totally overrated and Oz was not planning on falling into any deep depression or bitching to people he barely knew that he was feeling lonely, better to just get out, have a beer, relax.
Oz tugged the door shut behind him, picked a random direction to walk and kept his eyes out for a bar. As he was walking, he thought about joining a band or maybe just getting out of Boston. Although its beans were some of the best he had ever had, the whole city was sort of cold. He rolled his eyes at his own morose thoughts and wrapped his jacket a little tighter around him.
(OOC: Open to anyone for RP. I promise he won't be too much of a whiny bitch, he's just a little pms-y today. ;))
Whether he was admitting his role to himself or not, Oz was quite sure he needed to get the fuck out of the house. Bars were good for that and he could listen, interject comments in his head and at least stop feeling sorry for himself. Self-pity was totally overrated and Oz was not planning on falling into any deep depression or bitching to people he barely knew that he was feeling lonely, better to just get out, have a beer, relax.
Oz tugged the door shut behind him, picked a random direction to walk and kept his eyes out for a bar. As he was walking, he thought about joining a band or maybe just getting out of Boston. Although its beans were some of the best he had ever had, the whole city was sort of cold. He rolled his eyes at his own morose thoughts and wrapped his jacket a little tighter around him.
(OOC: Open to anyone for RP. I promise he won't be too much of a whiny bitch, he's just a little pms-y today. ;))