Sometimes when I'm at my desk, I'll realize that I have contorted myself completely, and I haven't moved for hours, and that my legs have fallen asleep. I am elsewhere, not in my body, not in the room, not in my house.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I have a form of Parkinson's disease, which I don't like. My legs don't move when my brain tells them to. It's very frustrating.
So I'm more at home with my backpack, sleeping in a hotel room or on a bus or on an airplane, than I am necessarily on a bed. It's weird being here. It feels like I'm standing next to my real life.
I meditate and do yoga. I sit cross-legged and try not to levitate too much.
I can't sit around doing nothing. If I'm not working, I have a habit of becoming rather insular.
I always bounce my legs when I'm sitting.
I spend most of my days pacing around, muttering that I have no ideas, feeling like I'm walking a plank.
Any time I'm in a moving thing, like an airplane, I'm usually asleep before we even get on our way.
I come home from work, and depending on the day or depending on what was going on, if I needed to adjust, I'd just meditate or play guitar or watch some 'Monty Python.'
Ninety percent of the time when I'm working, there's this very palpable sensation that I'm doing everything wrong and should just give up.
When I watch films or tv that I've done, I get very restless and tend to not sit still.