When I was a kid, I used to hang-out in our living room, claim my space on the couch, and hang my head. (Okay, that did not sound right.) I mean, instead of keeping steady sitting down to watch TV or whatever, I’d turn my world upside-down by hanging my head from the sofa, the upper half of my body flat on my back, while my lower body is drapped on the backrest of the sofa.
I don’t even remember why I was so fond of doing that in the first place, but the world upside-down was so much calmer and interesting than how I saw it everyday. Things (across our living room) looked somewhat different, fascinating, and I was totally fine with that.
Well, until my mom tells me to get off the sofa.
When my mom was not around, I was able to stay in that position, in silence and humble happiness, for about ten minutes. Once my mother walks in on me, she’d start scolding me about blood going up my head. Hmm…I should have asked what the harm was because the only reason I step off my upside-down world was because I was afraid of her wrath, and not ever because of the blood causing me brain damage or whatever.
Curious, I told my friends about this childhood activity, and well, it turns out, I was the only weirdo who enjoyed it!