This is a true story; of a group consisting 3 men
Eventually chose a different path.
To paint their tragedies
Into words

1. A stand up comedian.
Tragedy equals comedy, right?
Who are we kidding?
Laughter is indeed the best medicine
Laughter is indeed the best way
To forget about problems
Not to solve them.
Sounds familiar, don't you think?
Yeah, although it's much healthier than
Being an alcoholic.
Heck, in this frickin' country
In this economy
It's cheaper too!
Thus, let's wash our pain for a while
With a little bit of wits to laugh at
Until the scars finally stain.
The scars for later to be brag on
About the kind of struggle we've been through
About the kind of pain we've endure
About the kind of meds we've swallowed to flushed it off from our systems.
Talking about the rule of three right there.

2. A novelist.
Worry equals story, isn't it?
To elaborate things
In the most profound way possible
To dazzle the readers
To amaze them
To speak to them
Without actually
Speaking to them
Making them realize that
That kind of problems do exist
In the most notorious way possible
Hiding in plain sight
Waiting for someone
To unravel the truth
Via the three acts structure.
Talking about the rule of three right there.

3. A poet.
Vulnerability equals poetry, was it?
Not covering tragedy with comedy
This is romanticizing pain
Unspeakable pain
Not because the pain is unspoken
But the speaker
Is unable to speak
The tweeter
Is unable to tweet
The chatter
Is unable to chat
Disguising itself in rhymes
Emphasizing itself in repetition
Pain–pain–pain–pain–pain
Until the word lost its meaning
Doing it over and over again
Highlighting the word that he wants to forget
Fragile–fragile–fragile
Fallen–fallen–fallen
Broken–broken­–broken
Talking about the rule of three right there.

People write
Sometimes just because they can't speak
Not because they don't have mouth
But because they don't have the ability to
Or because they don't choose to

Speak for yourself!
And that's exactly what people did
By writing punchlines
By vomitting stories from their brain
By arranging the shattered pieces of themselves
Into letters
Into words
Into sentences
Into bits or paragraphs or verses
Into a whole

Write–write–write–write–write–write
Over and over again
Until it lost its meaning.

Hi, i'm 73.
Which means literally nothing in this country.

There are a few things i'd like to say:
I'm glad i bumped into you 82
I'm grateful befriend with 24, 51, and 90.
I feel enough with our quick interaction, 68.
Thank you for being my pair-up, 74.

In the world filled with finitely many numbers
I know that there are infinitely many numbers i haven't paired up.
Yet the space is a cartesian plane.
Where every real number would pair up at some point.
Thus, there will be infinitely many interactions.
Despite of the finitely many iterations.

I hope we interact at some moment in time
I hope we pair up at some point in space
Because the world, is just a cartesian place.
And we're all just a number in 1's eyes.

Thank you, for all the numbers i've been paired with.
Sorry, for all the number i haven't mentioned.
Although you are all finite.
My gratitude towards you all are infinite.

Throughout my life, i've bumped into
Too many commas
Yet, we never need a comma
In a love sentence.

Let alone a question mark
"I love you?"
Yeah that doesn't sound right
Not even quotation marks should be there
In a love sentence.

For now, i left out the apostrophe
Since i do not want to abbreviate
Every moment we spent
Abbreviation is not needed
In a love sentence.

How about an exclamation mark?
I love you so much
But an exclamation mark
Seems a little too much
We don't need that either
In a love sentence.

You.
Are the dot in every love sentence.
I would still have it without you
It was just
Incomplete
It was just
Unfinished

Hence,
I love you.
That would be it.

I wish i could express how i feel right now
The way a poet does.

I wish i could tell that i'm happy
That you still reply my messages
(Un)willingly. Whichever suits you the most.

I wish i could say that i'm sad
That you have a thought about turning back
About stopping the interaction
Because you thought it won't lead you anywhere.

I wish i could disagree with your thought.
But i can't see the future.
Nor i can't guarantee it yet.

I wish i'm good at words
So that i could tell
That your heart is safe as a safe

I wish i could express all those feelings
All at once since that's how i experience it right now
All of them mixed up like a dough
Getting things complicated though.

I wish i could state
That i want you to be here
Right now
Right here

I wish i could express how i feel right now
The way a poet does.

But i'm no poets
I'm not good with words
Let alone action.

Right now,
I just wish
I don't have to see you
In goodbye.

I realized something
I rarely write for you
Nor about you.
I don't know why.

I feel like i should write something about you
I know there are no necessity in that.
I still feel like i should
So that you feel more special
So that you feel more loved

But for some reason,
I almost can't.
Maybe due to the fact that,
I only write about losses,
Or loneliness
Or sadness
Or everything that's dark-toned.
I don't know why,
It's always been like that for ages.

I remember once you said to me
That you always like my writings
But you hoped for once
That i write something about happiness
Or cheerful wishes
Or hopeful futures
Or anything with brighter-tones
But i can't
I don't know why,
It's always been like that for ages.

I guess, that's why i rarely write for you
Nor about you.
Because whenever i'm with you
I feel happy
I feel loved
I feel complete
I feel all kinds of positive feelings
That quite strange for me.

And those peculiarities that i feel,
Prevent me to write something for you,
And/or about you.

Because for once,
I feel accepted.
And i guess,
There are no necessity to write that down.

It's not just a repetition
It's an iteration.
Trying to interpolate to know precisely what's been done
And extrapolate to forecast things that are about to be done.

Assumption kills,
Cutting of ideas just to clarify things.
Yet, the cutting feels needed
Even if it's based on assumption.
Even if they both know,
Assumption kills.

They talked so much,
About code of conducts,
About good communications
Without communicating it well.

They talked,
Line by line.
Stick to their own script,
Yet the writer *****.

Because they talked,
Line by line.
Stick to their own script,
But keep losing in translation.

Thus, interpolation is pointless
Extrapolation is worthless.
Agreement is unachievable.
And communicating is impossible.

The smile i remembered
The scent that used to linger
The warmth that used to warm me up

All those, are the things i missed

The soft laugh to my terrible jokes
The deep talk before sleep
The messy hair in the morning

All those, are the things i missed

The unconditional love you used to gave
The gaze that says "you might be the one"
The calmness due to the idea that we'd meet again soon.

All those, are things that missing.