The Last Commit – Prologue

This is something I have been wondering if I should write. It might not be a tale of adventure, crisis, or heroic sarcasm but it surely won’t be another twilight. This a tale of a group of people who consider themselves as a false savior, backstabber and enemy of non-making-any-sensible things, and even a brilliant traitor. No.

This shouldn’t be. This story is about a struggle of mind between what is sensible and what is claimed to be sensible.

This story began to exist at beginning of last year when certain people make decision based on speculation. The people who enables such decision are ones who are closest and dearest. Brotherhood would be tested and measured but without proper countermeasure should something go south.

T’was rainy day in the morning. A little boy woke up from his deep slumber and took a walk on wet road. He wore a white shirt, a pair of black trousers, a pair of black shoes. His mind was clouding of what he should say next. It was Monday and he had a word of honor.


Youth, Development Programs, and The Roads

It is common to see youth development programs, seminars about how to train your everything, and most of them goes free. People go after them to fulfill their destiny, they said. To expand their horizon, to experience global friendship and life, and to get certificates are several of their reason. They are learning a lot of matters at youth training programs. Language, skills, and interpersonal qualities are what they claim. Some of them learn French and Spanish and the others might get several technical skills, and the rest learn how to survive without being compromised.

Meanwhile, in their own community, there are a few people standing still. Such programs do not get their attention. Their eyes look straight and their steps are moving forward. Their gaze sometime meet whatever placed before them or under their feet. They have their own pace which sometimes is considered too slow. All you can see on their shoulders are scars which you do not understand how they got there.

They all are in this very road and talking with different intensity. Some of them keep their voice down and low while the others are sounding their thought to community. Hearts are pressed and sometimes too much for a day. Hot coffee are the their best partner in the afternoon, especially in cold-cloudy day after the rain. All of them have different watch and different hour hand. One hand with beautifully designed watch leads several masses to go with their preaching while the others try to make the day living.

Now all that is seen is a coin. One side represents gold and the other offers you hammer and steel. You may pick one over another but what if what you would get is not for you to decide?


If you, my dearest reader, are tired of my writings, I wish banana would refresh your eyes. So, please. Here is a bunch of bananas.

a bunch of bananas
Wish you all have good day.

Hi, My Name Is END

I haven’t met him, or her, and yet I have seen him, or her, several times.

For every road I have taken, I met one of those ends. He announced my departure and arrival at certain point. Even I never know with whom I would end up or where or when. He, or she, just announced and then there I was.

At least there were two people I have consider as end. Those ends came separately at different time. One was in a boy figure, a small one. He was, if I might guess, still in later year at elementary school or first year in junior high. The other was in female figure, which is for another story.

I came in touch with the boy at gloomy afternoon while raining. That was indeed rainy season. I was walking back to home after school hours. The sky was darkening and lightning started to appear. Rain hadn’t come yet. I fastened my steps when suddenly I saw this little one in the middle of the road.

Excuse me, little one. I would like to pass.

I said to him. Suddenly world stopped working and voices disappeared.

Hello, elder brother. Please, right here. That passage has been closed. You may go through this one.

He pointed the way. I followed his direction until I arrived at usual crossroad. Usual one but I sensed something different. The people, the wind, the scent, even the road itself weren’t the same. Everything was new for me.

I came to a brand new environment and it worked on every location I had encountered. I have never met this little boy again. To think that he was playful and cheerful, I still could not believe he was an end. Yet he was. If I asked to void, end of what would that be, the answer didn’t come right away. I am still searching one of those. One thing I realize is that there are several matter I have stopped doing since then. Several behavior, manners, even people I have ceased to come in contact with. I think that would be the end.

What if I didn’t ask him about the passage? What would be now if he directed me to another path? At what end would I arrive?


Time To Waste

Life is too short to listen to what others have to disdain your doing when you understand that He does encourage your doing; under normal circumstances your doings are sensible; should something go south, you have backup plans and already have discussed them with your closest and trustworthy relatives and friends; you understand and are completely sure that you can gain something worth your time.

So, no. I don’t think I have time to waste for nothing.

The Art of Waiting

To wait is what one of those things I have learned so far. To seize an opportunity of a lifetime, I decide what to do next and start to wake up early. It is either an easy or a hard thing to do but patience is what would bring different results. To see the target, cover, and an opening require trained senses and mind. Here are what I have found after all these years.

I couldn’t always create an opening. What I could create is my own readiness if the time comes. I pick my own gun, select the suitable bullet, calculate how the bullet would travel and then go down at my aim. High powered gun or bullet wouldn’t be always the best choice because sometimes I have to face imminent threat in close range. If the mark hasn’t come, I wait.

Patience and focus would be challenged and measured. By the time you wait, your mind would start to wander, taking you off the field and if you are not careful enough, you shall miss the target. Sometimes you would like to have another person to spot your marks and help you to determine your gun setting. But a person able to do that won’t be always on your side. So, you have to rely on your training and continue training even you are in the field.

Different target could mean different gun and different person as your spotter. Some might be suitable in desert terrain, some in showy mountains, and some in urban areas. But again, you might need to get yourself get used to those attributes. Being able to to master one thing is good but to master one and capable of doing other matters altogether, even if only of basic, could prove even more helpful.

Now I lie in wait for those marks I have been assigned. I set my aim to every corner where my marks might pop up. Believe me, waiting is indeed a challenge.