Get me more Choglet

I am not going for the trek. ki kori. wish somebody were to hold me. You take it in your stride, do you? kintu ektu bhalobashi, tar jonye holeo dishehara lagey. never prepared a reaction for what to do if you don't go. I feel bewildered, somewhat criminal. I just want to sit around my friend. Quietly to let it sink in. Around her there is peace. I find orientation.

And there is living after this too. Does baba's death make me so? So tired and slouchy. I need to trek as often as I can just to keep sane. To remember to be happy. Strong. That life is not something you drag along. Without JU, I need it all the more to remember, find focus, perspective. Kake eta bojhabo? That is my honesty about trekking. I don't love, dig it. I find, fodder, if you like. It shows me the way in a grim way. I am never fit the way I should be, and it's so often such a hard deal, and I don't take it well at all. Yet just being there strains it out of me. So I need to trek. I also dream of making my life with someone who will love to trek, will love the mountains and will always take me with him. May be sometime I will take him too. All this I hope for, dream about. These are my stakes. Without this, I feel lost. I will flounder giving names to things and fix meanings, and that kind of life is so tedious, I shall fall sick if I live it for more than a very short time. I am not doing very well now. I drag myself around the city instead of finding my pace. It used to be this way in school. I had forgotten that I used to get tired just going and coming back from school, so womanly, not being able to do vigorous activities. All that I had almost put out of my mind. I have been at home for a few months. Things are not with a lot of colour. It does not do me good. I have to get out. I will fall sick. You cannot live like this. There is no balm in the form of Jadavput either, that all-effacing place that at the end of the day takes you into its heart no matter how it's been. I must leave, God I must leave.