What, might I ask, are the three? Cowardice Selfishness Immaturity Perhaps the three are her, you, and me. . . the three that will forever haunt your dreams, like the Holy Trinity you gave up, as if nothing. You say she is your queen, with her wide nose, fat thighs, and ugly moustache. What about the princess you denied as your own? The little girl who will always be yours, no matter how hard you try to say no. The three, according to me, are Desire Obsession Need, the desperate necessity to make, no. . . to force, that fluttering flag of red, blue, and orange scrawled upon your upper arm mean something, anything. The twisted itch to erase half of yourself, your kinder intelligent moral half, as if it never existed. You can run from yourself and who you once were, and truly still are inside, but you cannot escape from her. You can avoid me as well, but your princess will be there. . . waiting for you . . . and one day you will have to explain it all to her, Zakarian 3, and then my day will have come. I will then have my three Peace Satisfaction Tranquility.