To the thief!

The day started with a smile, we all had a funny start at the evening. Good friends here, old acquaintances there and new people everywhere. The night nearly went crazy and the party turned with a bang. I had a funny night, of course - like I always do at Frontrunner's parties, until you had to destroy my mood. I don't know if you are deaf or hearing, nor if you know me or if I know who you are. It doesn't matter. For me you are a thief, and I don't know if I should hate you or if I should be mad on myself. First, I can't understand why or how you just chose my wardrobe number and stole my jacket, but why I took my favorite jacket at a party with more than three hundred guests is to me a mystery. If we turn the time some days back, it's like I knew what should happen all the way….

…It's Thursday and I'm standing at my room, preparing my outfits for the weekend, and at a moment I'm thinking; «Which jacket should I bring? Maybe I should bring two different jackets? One for the whole weekend and one for the party?» After a while when it seems like my bag is going to be full I'm ending up with only one jacket. Of course my favorite jacket. Right before I'm leaving I'm telling to a friend that something is wrong and I'm feeling that I've forgot something and right there on my hall I'm thinking; «Maybe I should bring another jacket?» But there is no time for my endless thinking, we've to get on the bus before it’s leaving. After one day in Roskilde does the party start and at the Saturday evening before the dinner I’m doing me ready, I threw me on the jacket and putting down my mobile, money and the wallet in the pockets. (I’m bringing me with a handbag too.) Finally at the pub’s hall when we are going to let our jackets in the wardrobe; «Well, maybe I should take all my values from the pockets and have them in a friend’s handbag?» And there we go, my jacket and the handbag is giving away to someone others in a public wardrobe with no values in the pockets, my jacket’s number is 131 and my handbag’s number is 130. After eight funny hours when the party is over and drunk people are on the way home do I realize that I’ve lost one of my numbers. Fuck, I can’t do anything than to stand there side by side with the wardrobe and waiting for people to pick up their belongings. There’re four people with me, they’re waiting too. When last person in the cue is picking up her things do I see six jackets left in the wardrobe. None of them is mine…?

…We all had a funny start at the evening. Good friends here, old acquaintances there and new people everywhere. The night nearly went crazy and the party turned with a bang. I had a funny night, of course, like I always do at Frontrunner's parties, until you had to destroy my mood. I don't know if you are deaf or hearing, nor if you know me or if I know who you are. It doesn't matter. It’s just really resentful; because of that if I would have done something else I still could have this jacket with me now. Oh yes, I’m damn mad on myself.