My Little Red Book

I’ve been down, frustrated, angry but it doesnt bring me back my passport.

Sometimes, I feel like cursing those thieves. I could even kill them if I do know them. I have had many scenes played on my mind these days. Like in those action packed mystery-murder movies. When I am out, I look about me at people, hoping to pry on one who is carrying my bag, or wearing my jacket, or even just my scarf. Alas, to no avail. No trace, no news, no suprises, no nothing.

All my things just went blop! and dissapeared. Forever.

On another hand, I try to pray for these thieves. For their goodness. For their compassion. For their humanity.

Then again, I am also praying that the Police will bust them someday. Soon. Now. Triumph. Celebration. Peace in Brussels. And returning all the stolen goods to where it rightfully belong.

Then again, its just material matters.

I am but a bunch of confusing thoughts.

Pfff, I need a miracle. NOW.