One move is enough for me to create the whole story about someone who made it. I get the feeling that half of my life is what actually happens, and the other one is what my imagination likes to create.
I recently had a problem with this “feel that you’re alive” kind of thing. It’s not like nothing was happening. I visited a few new cities, wrote a screenplay, and touched a shark. The problem was that all of the above seemed exciting AFTER it actually happened, not in the moment of doing.
Sometimes I think my brain floats like a spoon in freshly melted ice cream. I live without really realizing it but in this sense, I’m not even sure what exactly “living” is.
I guess I might need some more practice with it.