I'll Keep You In A Jar. I'll Give You Breathing Holes. I'll Teach You How To Save A Life.

I'll teach you how to count.

The distance to the moon equals to the amount of your snoozing hours in a lifetime multiply by four. Imagine dreaming your way to the moon. Ain't it a doll?

Where did I go wrong? I have a lost a friend. I have lost two friends. Then three and four. Then a dozen until I learn to stop counting. I have never thought I need so many people. Tall, fat, short, busty, ugly bastard people.

YOU MUST COUNT! Life is fucking mathematical! Your bills, your earnings, your loves, their worth, their reciprocation and all your bloody sacrifices.

I will sit with you all night until I have taught you how to count. I'll put up one finger to tell you what is one. One is the lone shadow in the night. The only one to feel when everyone's dreaming about the moon. The only one's still up to teach you how to count.

Then I'll put up two fingers, like the proud sign of victory. It is two. Two is more than one. Two is being delirious. Delirious about God. Delirious about people. You have learnt that God make people to so that they could keep each other company, and it's ludicrous. In the moving silhouettes in the moonlight against the wall, two is merely the wishful projection of one.

I'll withdraw the second finger back into my fist and show you one finger again. One. It will always be one. Be it ten or twenty hands, it is actually only one finger in the dark.

You shake your head and smiled abit. You are hopeful. I have to teach you and I will teach you until you know how to save a life. One life. Your life. I point one finger again and you grin like an idiot and show me all ten fingers. I kindly and politely put your fingers away and show one lonely finger.

You smirk and show me your fingers and toes.

I GRAB YOUR HAIR AND SMACK YOU ONCE WITH THE END OF MY HAND! AND HIT YOU ACROSS YOUR STUPID FACE AGAIN AND AGAIN UNTIL YOUR EYES TEAR AND YOU STOP SHOWING ME YOUR FINGERS! FINGERS! I HAD TO HIT YOU, I HAD TO AND I WILL NOT STOP UNTIL YOU LEARN HOW TO FUCKING COUNT!

ONE!

Always.

And you left, just like the rest. After all it's all about the balance. The balance always add up and multiplies and then subtracts and divides back to one. The only one in that room of moonlight.

You left. Where did I go wrong? I begin to wonder. Why that pattern of mathematical error? Why one? WHY ONE?!! Why did you all leave me behind?

I know what I am all along. I will not change. Even if it means to be the only one. I'll get used to it. I will fix myself if I have to. I will learn to stop counting. I will live as one.

Society is a gigantic punchline itself.

By the way I lied. I don't know the distance to the moon.

I couldn't fucking count to even save my life.