Oliver Millward
Bio
Hi I have just completed a MSc in psychology and feel I want to write psychological novals that centre around existential dread. I read a lot of philosophy particularly the Greeks. Please recommended me some reads and have a read on mine.
Stories (9)
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David and Frank. Content Warning.
"Are we departing soon?" David inquired with a despondent tone, his voice barely piercing the low murmur of the bar. "Not quite yet," replied Frank, his tone amicable yet underlined with an authority that quelled further inquiry. He leaned back, rhythmically drumming his fingers against the worn bar tabletop, his gaze meandering through the room as though it still held vestiges of mystery that must be unearthed.
By Oliver Millwardabout a year ago in Fiction
CyberSent
In the shadows of a high-tech corporation, I naively stumbled upon a revelation that would change everything. Whilst attending to my cleaning duties, for which I have been employed, I overheard a chilling conversation between Dr Smithe, the project manager, and Sir Wilfred Starmer, the powerful tycoon who ruled this empire. Their words hinted at something monumental.
By Oliver Millwardabout a year ago in Fiction
Weight training progression for those with less time
If you know the benefits of weight training but time is the reason you do not lift weights, this could be the routine for you. I'm here to tell you that a three-day cycle can drastically improve your body. This is no get-ripped quick and easy scam! You will need to train hard for the three one-hour sessions per week. Here are the three pillars of training-
By Oliver Millwardabout a year ago in Lifehack
Life Paralysis . Content Warning.
I awoke into my nightmare. My cold and unyielding body refused to obey my commands. I couldn't move. My eyes scanned the room with frantic urgency, darting from shadow to shadow. I was a prisoner in my own skin, unable even to blink. There was no respite, no escape. My heart drummed a steady rhythm, each beat amplifying the dread that pulsed through me. I was back. Again.
By Oliver Millwardabout a year ago in Fiction
Fading Memories. Content Warning.
A chilling realization washed over me: the scars were old, the message carved in a desperate bid for truth. I had been here before, trapped in this endless loop of confusion and deceit. It does not matter for how long. All that matters is that with each day, I gain more memories. Presumably, I had asked for a pen and paper in the past, and they either denied my access for cruelty or witnessed me trying to recall my memories. All I had left was my skin. I know asking for a pen now would trigger a treat from me to them. They know my path. They know my responses. I must recognize what they think I will do and differ my response to that of the unknowing lump of flesh they wish to remain captured.
By Oliver Millwardabout a year ago in Fiction
Fading Memories. Content Warning.
I awoke in a room that felt strangely familiar yet entirely foreign. The day held a peculiar tension, a premonition of something concealed. As I scanned the room, I noticed the curtains and blinds were tightly shut, usually open to welcome the sun. Why would I block out its rays so brutally? I had to know. I had to open.
By Oliver Millwardabout a year ago in Fiction
Summer Solstice
In the medieval town of Salisbury, a revival of an ancient solstice ritual has unveiled an unexpected power. As the townspeople gathered around the daunting pillars of Stonehenge, a palpable energy coursed through the air; the ancient stones hummed with a low, resonant vibration. Amidst the gathering, a young girl named Lucy stood with her parents, discerning a strange sense of belonging she couldn't quite explain. She had persuaded her parents to take her to Stonehenge for the summer solstice as it was the only time the rocks could be touched.
By Oliver Millward2 years ago in Fiction
Freeing of the shadows
Every night, I am thrust into the centre of an immense, bustling city square surrounded by towering buildings with faceless grotesques. The dense, homogenous crowd speed around each individual had no distinguishable features. Despite the busyness, an eerie silence pervades the city. There is a palpable sense of isolation amidst the throng, not unlike the awkwardness of visiting a place for the first time. Still, even after countless visits here, I do not belong. However, it is only myself who felt these types of emotions. The crowd moved without sentiment, without a trace of concern. Whenever I was overcome with naivety, I would yell for help, but my voice was always engulfed by the oppressive silence maintained within the anonymous mass.
By Oliver Millward2 years ago in Fiction
The Enlightening. Content Warning.
Where am I? Why am I here? The initial self-interrogation during my reoccurring nightmare. There are only two alternatives in the incapacious pathway, pitch black behind me, no expectancy of reaching any answers going that direction, envisioning the darkness to be boundless, a glimmer of light to the front intrigue's investigation as it has on countless occasions. Each time I pray, it will end differently. The light must be the route out, the thoughts of the naïve version of my former self. In actuality, it was a way in. As I stride towards the assumed departure of the corridor, I try to touch the walls to the side, but my hands do not grip, or the wall moves away; I'm not sure...
By Oliver Millward2 years ago in Psyche
