Barbados is a lovely word

There's someone here who's into blogs, so I can't post save when she ain't here. Well, I've been dying to scream out to the world that I have 'follicular tonsilitis', one manifestation of which is this huge wart in my throat that I can see- it's white with pus: grotesque, completely, hee hee. I certainly hope I will gross out people who read about it. And then, there's antibiotics, which make you feel out of this world, quite literally. All I want to do is to be left to myself and to sleep. Instead of ruddy office. Tobe shei woe niye ar na i bollam. And the boy and I had such a good chat over phone last night that I took so long to get over it that I fell asleep without eating. Now this none save ma know yet.
Ar it's generally not pleasant to feel that there's cotton wool wedged up your throat. And then, intimations of mortality. Bhoy lage, if you have to die. I so don't want to die.
I began reading Love in the Time of Cholera jedin office jai ni over this thing. I think it's rather rather nice. Majhe majhe khub ichhe hoy, jodi anek din pai, to live like the old days: sharadin boi pore katiye ditam, break only to eat, or bathe, fall asleep over the book, wake to read. May be get out for a brief while.
Summer is for receding inside yourself, to find happiness, standing on the verandah deep at night, feel the breeze, be happy. Lightness, freedness. And let me yet say, there is great joy in loving the boy, to be allowed to let be, to call and say I feel vomitty. Oh yeah, it sounds simperingly saccharine. But it's well, all of what I was saying earlier. I am rather happy.