thinkthinkthinkkeepmovingkeepmovingfocusfreecell

My brain is configured in such a way that I need more than one type of stimulus most of the time. I might have written about this before, and I'll check after I've written this, and may edit it if I have.

I'm often in moods (and right now is an example) where my mind is racing and I feel like I need to be doing something. I can't focus on one thing (reading a book for example), but am thinking of loads of things at once.

I feel a bit like this most of the time. Whenever I'm watching TV or a film, or listen to music, I tend to play Freecell or a game on my phone. It's as though the information I'm receiving isn't enough to satisfy me, so I need an additional, visceral activity, to keep the instinctive part of my brain active as well as the contemplative part. (I'm no expert on the construction of the brain, so this may not be entirely scientific.)

Sometimes I can concentrate on just one thing. If it's something highly visual for example, or difficult to follow, I can watch it happily. Or if it's something new. But a lot of the time I find myself needing something to do with my hands (and wanking isn't always a practical solution).

So now I'm in a mood where I need to be channelling all of this nervous energy. I've played a lot of Freecell, even when in conversation or thinking about things, and now I am trying to use this blog as an outlet.

I remember when I was a teenager, I used to have a rubber ball that I'd throw in the air and catch when watching TV (as I did most of the time, lacking even the illusion of a social life). I also remember a period where I was moving to a different bedroom in our house and, for one reason or another, I had two TVs in the room. I distinctly remember watching the sitcom Sister, Sister on Nickelodeon on one screen and playing Super Probotector on the other.

I think doing creative things helps me to concentrate. And often I don't have the problem, but I wonder why it exists.

The self-aggrandising (and therefore true) explanation is that my brain is so powerful that I am not content with the activities that would satisfy a normal man. I can take in so much more information, I should be kept in the Pentagon, connected by wires to the world's media and communications, and process it all in bite-sized chunks for the eggheads and suits to scavenge upon. Or I should live at the Earth's core, controlling everyone and everything with chunky levers and old-fashioned pulley mechanisms.

Alternatively, it might be a reaction to the fact I am generally quite sedate and laid-back. Perhaps my nervous energy is stored during the day and released at random, when hopefully a copy of Tetris is near.

I have been drinking lots of tea recently, but not enough to give me caffeine-related hyperactivity. Perhaps I am a manic-depressive, but without the depression. That would be brilliant. Much better than people who are just depressive without the mania. Poor bastards.

If only I could put this episodes to some use. I suppose these blog entries are some use, but their value is questionable. If I could paint masterpieces or solve complex mathematical conundra whilst watching Harry Hill's TV Burp I could really be going somewhere.

But at the moment I'm going nowhere. Unless the vibrations caused by my nervous energy slowly buzz and shake me into another dimension; one so incredible and interesting that it will have my full attention and slay The Beast of Curious Hyper (TM).

Then how will I get home?