Yesterday I lost something and I started reacting like a little spoilt brat. I cried, I moaned, I kicked stones in the street etc. I went everywhere to find it and I made a big fuss about it. The only consolation (in the sense that I am not totally nuts for reacting that way) is that what I lost was something nice: a little brooch with the little prince that my mum had bought me. I loved it and I was proud wearing it. Everyone was giving me compliments for it. In some strange way, I also thought it brought me good luck. Written down, this thought looks kind of absurd.
Whenever I lose something I obsess with two thoughts: firstly I wish that the thing I lose would have a beeper that I could press and I could hear the noise that would lead me to it. Or maybe it could have a glowing light that I could see, if I narrowed my eyes. A glowing light to lead me to it. The other thought that upsets me, is to think of the little thing I lost, in this case my precious little prince, in a corner somewhere, by the road, in the mud, somewhere dirty and abandoned. Again, this thought written down seems quite absurd, but that is what I feel.
I wish someone might have found my little prince and is wearing him now. If I don't have him, at least I hope someone else is being happy with having him.
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2 comments:
Oh no, this is truly sad. I hope by some miracle that you will come upon the little prince again... and that he will be re-found in the streets of Cam. May this happen sooner than later! xxx
Thanks Hallo Kitty, I hope so too but it doesn't look too possible... I really hope someone has found him and is wearing him.
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