For the time being, at least give me 2-3 days, do not text me, do not call me or whatever. My limited edition, red, Esprit body bag was stolen and in it are my newly given K800i cellphone, leather wallet, IDs, ATMs, discount cards, and cold cash. To think that I just withdrew money to shop. Damn it. It was stolen at some fucking mall while I’m enjoying a bite of Garlic Sticks at Greenwich. It was just right beside me 5 minutes before I realized it was stolen. I totally blocked out and almost collapsed. I am sick, for goodness’ sake and this happened. Talk about how inconsiderate my luck level is.
Warning: What follows would contain something brutal, because I am. If you care about life so much, please don’t read it.
And to the one who stole my bag,
Damn you for not answering my calls and messages after I tried to bribe you with however much money you wanted. I don’t care how much money you needed anymore. I hope you’ll be run over by a truck tonight. I really mean it. I know it’s not a Christian thing to wish, but I’m not a Christian so poor you. I even thought of scaring you by sending you prayers from the Satanic perspective, but I am being considerate that you might die from heart attack with your body filled with cold sweat. I still prefer you die by being run over by a truck. I hope to hear the news of your blood spurting the grey, dull roads and internal organs scattering all over under your face that’s almost unrecognizable from being deformed. I hope to hear endless gossips of you from people who doesn’t have a life that can only stare at you full of pity because “it’s such a waste of life”.
No, I am not demon, I just find myself fascinated with gruesome things such as these and if I really am a demon, the minute you took my bag, you already died. Really.
PS: If you can’t be run over by a truck, a car is good too.