I am eighty two and I still like the kids' trick of pulling the covers over my head, raising my knees, and enjoying the little tent, or cave, or cocoon I have made.
The rest of the world, everything else, is outside and you are inside.
They say that Michael Jackson used to like to sleep in a hyperbaric chamber. Well, no wonder. What a neat cocoon, away from turmoil, away from everything outside.
In this populous land, there must be some people who set up tents in their bedrooms to sleep inside. I don't know any, but I understand them, I do.