billy's basic detachment practice

[Billy]

I am obtaining to that 'feeling' imagery associated with the 'dead of winter' > a perception of the subdued pace of life where my mood is correspondingly dormant.  I try to ride this feel into a dull self-pity to indulge.  Self-pity, as an aware, unrestrained indulgence is a favorite toy of mine.  {It is recapitulation of a sense of separation made savory.}

   The world in this 'dead of winter' does not impinge; I do not feel very alive.  I like this; it is exquisite.

I was indulging that (until writing took me away).