So the list of suspects from the biggest to smallest are; the people from the diploma program, people that know me or my roommate, my housemates and the last my own roommate..but the fuck could i do, ask and search every single soul? Motherfucker got the nerve to steal I hope he got the brain to conceal it. I really don't like to think what will happen to the sorry chap if I caught him..
................
...sigh
Finally hit the acceptance stage of the Kübler-Ross model, that 5 stages of grief(yeah, The Simpson taught me that):
i. Denial-
"My wallet ain't lost..I just misplaced it somewhere. Maybe it want to play hide n seek..what a cute little wallet."
ii. Anger-
"FUCK!!! WHERES MAH WALLET!!! ARGH!!!
iii. Bargaining-
"..stupid thief, why dont he just take the damn spoon and leave my wallet alone."
iv. Depression-
"...fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck...."
v. Acceptance-
" Aww fuck it. He just want the money, the wallet is an evidence. Maybe I'll found it in a dumpster somewhere.."
And still life goes on. I ain't even mad anymore. I had survived a fuckup of a much greater magnitude, one that make this look like an itch on the ass only, and still live just fine. Just kinda annoyed I need to replace all my documents in it, my I.C and driving license all that shit. And hear my mom nag me about this..
..ahh fuck it.
and here is some soul-soothing song i used to diffuse my rage
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