Baiting The Worm

I will stick my head out and assume that the majority of people like to sit on sofas and chairs, maybe even if feeling daring they pick a beanbag. But I have never understood the fascination or felt the comfort of furniture. Of course bookshelves, cabinets, tables etc are all well and good but as for seating I much prefer the floor. Ever since I was a young boy playing with Star Wars figures on my knees in the garden, the floor has been my chosen 'seat'.
I love it, and even as I type the floor is cooling my legs as I share it with the worms and earwigs. Whenever I try to relax on a sofa I feel uncomfortable, and in fact downright nauseous. Its rather strange I will admit but the world feeds off strange.
Reading, watching films, writing, eating, (but not screwing) are all done on my spacious wood floor. I feel suffocated plumped in amongst floral cushions and sickly patterns like im being swallowed alive by a giant jellybaby. I even do my drinking on the tiles and apart from it saving to have to fall far, the floor is genuine comfort to me.
Goats, cows and the ever wise pigs have it right, lolling around on the ground is by far the better option and keeps both legs and ass firm. There must be medical advantages to choosing the floor to sit on as my muscles are still solid and have not felt any twinges of discomfort due to Worm Baiting (my term for opting for the ground). I can certainly dispel that popular belief that it causes hemorrhoids or piles. Rubbish! Another myth fuelled by the timid, my ass is in perfect condition both inside and out.
Another thing is the way it forces you to look to the sky, especially if propped on an elbow. On seats the face is drawn to whatever is level, invariably the television, but plonked on the floor one tends to look upward more, pulling the eyes from the wretched soap operas and taking them to clouds or stars where in fertile imaginations the real drama exists. I love it and cannot praise it enough.
Picnics are best eaten on lush green grass and fishing is much better level with the nets and maggots. I will never forgive the chap who brought us the deckchair, what a boring life he must have led, everything orderly and in its place. No sense of adventure in some people. The floor is good! An abundance of space to stretch those limbs, without the stuffy constraints of the armchair. My cat is quite welcome to the sofa as my bones yearn for for grain not foam.
In Japanese culture sitting whilst pouring tea is called 'Seiza'. So im not alone on my earthly throne, and I am postive that thinking is made easier on it too. Whenever I am forced to sit at a restruant table or in a planes coffin seats my thoughts seem to sink like my backside into the bowels of the seat. Horrible feeling that I do not see me ever getting used to because the ground is my domain, here with the worms picking at the flesh of Life and tossing the colourful scraps into the air in the hope the sofa queens see them and come down to join us, the artists beneath their feet.