Tim Can in Robot Hill

There is a place similar to utopia.
There are no poor, there are no sick,
And there is no need to think.
There are no hungry to be rich.
The air is fresh and the birds do sing.
Everyone lives peacefully, in discipline.
In a hill full of only robo-kin.

In a vivid place with a tree, full of green.
Here walks a can. Named Tim Can.
“Clink, clunk, clink, clunk,”
Was the sound of him.
The racket made by one little tin,
With his baggy pants-like bin.

He walks along a tree, quite big and round.
Picks up the fruits and then goes around.

Some people ponder over such a guy,
They walk and talk about him sometimes.
Some quicken their steps when he’s near,
But some do stop and check their rear.
He accidentally drops a fruit to those who pass,
And then goes back the, little lass.

“Little guy, why do you do what you do?” one bot asked,

Little Tim stares at him, tilts to clank his hat.
He gives an apple and then goes back.
“You don’t need it?” His face never asks.
He doesn’t give because its his task.

No one owns the tree the little guy has.
Because the tree was never meant to last.
So no one minded the bot under the tree’s mask.
But one bot stared as he saw the little guy,
There was no fruit that bots needed to buy,
Cause they don’t eat to get fill,
Or do their tasks to feel fulfilled.
They do what they do, because that’s their task.
Whether they want to or not, they never ask.
Except one bot who does a task,
That makes everyone want to ask.

“Why do you do, what you do?”

A question they never ask,
To themselves and their task.

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Chapter 4 of GON: Caelum et Terra


Caelum et Terra: Sky and Land

They sneaked towards the large door. But if anyone catches note of them, a face of disgust could be seen and then they return to normal. Xima pulling his head down trying to hide his existence once again, hastily runs out of their sight.

Reaching the door, the door is better understood as a solid gate about 5 times the size of them. The thickness of the door was made to survive earthquakes, typhoons or even boulders.

Donatello then retrieved something from his pocket. A coin with same sheen of gold the door had was inserted to slight hole found at the side of the gate. And then an old hag with grey hair comes out with the coin and examine it infront of them.

The old hag was not surprised seeing Xima unlike the rest whom they passed. The elder then lifts her hand up, and a few grunts could be heard from above but the door opens.

A massive dome could be seen. The dome was covered with highly tempered glass that can withstand the falling of a tree from high altitude. It encompassed about 30 mirea (miles) in all directions. A circular amphitheater of houses could be found everywhere connected to a skeleton like path. A giant sphere of air could established from the concave shapes of the houses and the convex glass and metal dome above them.

With the many rusted houses, and the colourful cloths worn by the people, the whole area looks like a globe with a pastel peach flower garden inside.

Even though I haven’t seen this in the longest, this still amazes me.

“Xima, let’s go! What are you looking at? Haha “ the raven black haired Donatello reaches out to ask me. He grabs my wrist and then covers his face with the gas mask.

If I remember correctly Eto can’t –

“Hey, Eto is it okay for you to be outside? Why did Cutio let you out?” Xima asks. Eto is Donatello’s nickname.

“Oh, about that… Um. Brother didn’t let me out. I escaped” he acts shy then smiles to me.

“WHAT!?” Xima shouts. People start to notice the two of them and then are disgusted when they catch the sight of Xima. Xima then pulls Donatello to an empty street. Xima cups Donatello’s head and brings it closer to his to tell him.

“Go back. Right now. It isn’t safe for you here.”

Donatello stare blackly underneath the mask but then says in contempt.

“Why? Why do you guys have to cage me like this?”


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Chapter 1.1:Dreaming Awake

Somewhere else…

“She’s asleep isn’t she?” A woman asks gently as her dress waves from the wind.

“Yes.” The man replies, curtly.

“Is it time?” The woman asks worriedly.

“Yes.”The man answers monotonously, same as how he said it before.

“But is she ready?” The woman asks with a voice you couldn’t tell whether the emotion was worry or pity. But in how she said it, a hint of sadness could be heard.

“No.” The man says with a slight change, signifying a little of the distraught by the choice they are making.

The silhouette of the two can be found on top a building. From the window of the building where the girl with red-brown eyes is, you would only see two dots due to the distance. Only a person with sniper like vision would be able to see that far.

“Thank you,” the woman tells the man, as if she is saying goodbye.

“I am sorry,” he says. It felt practiced how he said it. Only indifference could be heard from how he said it as he struggles to keep his eyes open from water accumulating in his eyes.

The winds howls and they both disappear. But if it was really to account whether they were they in the first place, it would be better to ask whether they existed or not.


End Of The World

Chapter 1: Dreaming Awake

(Also known as lucid dreaming)

It was in a deep, deep darkness with only a single light. A single light that I can even stare directly at, that was how weak it was. In the end I was mindlessly walking forward. With no destination in sight I could only feel that my feet where submerged in this perfectly lukewarm water. Just how perfectly heated can water get? The water can barely be felt at all. In the end I try sinking my hand in but-

I can’t remove my hand.

“What’s happening!?”


The water level suddenly begins to rise and every part of my body submerged in the water can’t move. Every part of my body already submerged is as if I was cemented in place. In only a few minutes the waves press what’s remaining of me down, and I drown. My body begins to slant facing up.

The dim light seems brighter under water.

I can’t move at all. My body stays in the form of grabbing one arm out of something. I keep sinking down. And the darkness seems to rise from below, gently engulfing me. Rather from the nonexistent feeling of the water, a certain warmth can be felt from the darkness. Like falling to sleep, I shut my eyes and feel my body unwind. And then as it encircles my waist I am pulled toward it.


It was a man’s voice. The tone was so gentle it almost seemed as if it was apologizing my name.

It’s okay. Don’t be sorry.

I begun to become sleepy until I really fall asleep.

“Don’t leave me.”

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Chapter 3: It Is Always Good To Be Mindful Of The Signs.

It Is Always Good To Be Mindful Of The Signs.

                As he gazes into those pitch-black eyes and midnight-hair, Xima couldn’t help but wonder on what Donatello intended to do. In that second, a surge of pain seeped in from his palms. The dark haired boy placed pressure on the bruises Xima inflicted on himself earlier.

“This is to stop the bleeding, we should treat this before me,” he anxiously told Xima. His friend was afraid that not treating his wounds immediately might cause it to worsen.

In a place where trees are found high above and food is the currency. The stomach represents the class a person can be. A hungry stomach is a shameful stomach. Xima overthinking to this point on why Donatello wouldn’t let him treat his stomach arrived at this conclusion. Donatello does not want Xima to feel bad about him. Sometimes, misunderstandings are beautiful.

              I don’t want you to see…the ugly part of me.

Donatello thinks to himself.

After a while the two go out of the room and Donatello reasons his visit, that he wants to hang out with Xima today. Xima guilty for hurting Donatello grants him this.

The two go out to arrive in a tight alleyway from where Xima lives. It was like walking at the bottom of the ocean. The light, from the clear blue sky, after the rain reflect ethereally down to the plain hollow walls of the alley.

The space between the walls can only fit small children or a person suffering from severe malnutrition. It hides the people who live here perfectly. People running from a crime or being persecuted can live here peacefully. For all that matters, he counts under the persecuted.

They reach the end and open the door. A bright light strikes their eyes, and the bustling of the city and be heard.

The scene of mother and child wishing off a father to work can be seen. The only thing unique about the scene is that the man is leaving off from a glider. Hundreds of people leave from the hanger, the two then head for another door.

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Chapter 2 Of GON: The Room Is Enough To Know I am Alone.

The Room Is Enough To Know I am Alone.

The pals finds themselves in each other’s embrace. Soon after,  an awkward tension follows since none begin to let go. Xima tries to end the hold, but as he undoes his arm Donatello tightens his hold. The squeeze forces Xima to move back. In the process, Xima could feel Donatello sinking his face by his shoulder. The jet haired boy let his breath touch his friend’s neck as calms himself through the thumping of their hearts. The receiver can feel a stiff warmth between them. The contact felt more intimate than former  the moment Donatello held Xima closer.

Xima’s cheeks began to fluster with blush as Donatello deepens his hold. It stirred up all his senses awake and sent him goosebumps. The solitude Xima has been all this time had clearly set his being in numbness. The contact between them two felt so foreign to him that by reflex he shoved Dontello. The force takes his friend to the floor. Xima could only cover his face and apologize as Donatello stares at his cohort’s wretched condition.

“I am sorry… I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that, please forgive!” Xima’s voice was cracked towards anguish as he begins to lose power from limbs. His friend only watches as he tries to cover his existence with his bare hands. He hides himself from his friend’s sight in the hope that his existence was so minuscule that the shadow of his fingers could hide himself.

Donatello tries to approach him, while nearing his hand to Xima. The threshold for sensation has heightened through the boy that the moment Donatello could fingertip the silver hair, Xima had crawled to the corner of the room. His fingertips slide from each reach as he grabs for the bed. If blood could stop, then he felt his had clogged completely. All physical functions die out having your whole body become a cage unable to get out.

“What’s wrong Xima?!” Concern and worry painted Donatello’s face pale white. He was shocked from the sudden impulse of brokenness. He watched his friend retrieve the horror from deep within. Drenched in the nightmare, Xima appeared frozen on spot.

Donatello attempts to bring back his restless companion but to no avail. Shaking him vigorously, Donatello could only get him to look at him for a second.

Xima drowns deeper into his thoughts.

The complains, insults, sorrow, and brokenness pile into shards of glass in a bag called the mind. Xima recalling such heaviness creates holes that allow the terrors deep down to seep out. Xima starts to see apparitions of his uncle, mother, father and the one he owes everything to, Tentatio.  Xima screams realizing the greatest dread to him.

Tentatio appears before him. He looked angered like something was taken from the old man. As the phantasm approaches, Xima is given a mixed emotion of relief and terror. Lips begin to move from the ghost but no sound comes to mind. Only till it was a meter close Xima understood what they meant.

Wildly and dangerously, Xima pulls his hair in a attempt to overcome his current pain with physical pain.  He is screaming and shouting from the top of his lungs. A tiny amount of hair began to be pulled out and his nails pierced down to his palm. Blood pellets splatter, from the piercing, onto Donatello’s arm.

Alarmed by the blood, Donatello wraps his arms around his companion and pushes him to the floor. Xima begins hit and punch Donatello away from himself. Donatello bounds his body to Xima to protect him from self-inflicting himself, consequently he receives the blows and pound by pound receiving them. The raven haired boy yelled for him to stop but fright continued to rule over.

Legs start to kick his buddy away from him. Each strike was stronger than its previous and Donatlello wavered quickly.

“What can I do to bring you ba—” kicked in the gut, Donatello releases Xima and at last his companion returns to his senses. Xima is shocked by what he had done and quickly took cool dish from the window. Placing on the stomach of Donatello he notices the other places that have been freshly bruised. Xima once again rushes to window and takes out all possible pain soothers for Donatello. He brings them over and applies them on Donatello’s body. Finishing the upper two injuries Xima tends to the harm inflicted by the kick, but Donatello tells him to stop.

Donatello holds Xima’s wrist. The white haired boy can only contemplate over why they had to stop. Donatello remains silent and Xima notices the part he will be aiding. It was Donatello’s bear stomach. The thought could only make the boy conclude that Donatello might be coy about having his stomach treated, because he will have to let him make contact to his stomach. A flush of embarrassment was about to torrent as Donatello gets hold of both Xima’s wrists and look at the self-conscious boy intently.

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Chapter 1: Dreaming Awake

Inside something I call my shell, I fail to recognize the person within.

“Who are you?”

The question echoes in the lone sound of my warm, but cruel voice. How can a voice that’s warm be cruel? When the voice that vibrates comes from electric impulses in the brain, beat to the rhythm of indifference. Oh, how poetic, the irony that is me. The grey matter foreshadowing that logic is being neither black or white in essence, as a living truth. It is the oxymoron of life to be a similar contradiction, of both living but dead inside.

The vibrations from a surface not distant from me, reflects to my side. The beat is like a filled drum, the whole room vibrates. The vibrations come in a subtle yet rhythmic manner. The strong timpani of my surroundings awake me from my sleep. I don’t get up but just listen to the beating like one attending a concert.

My emotions are stable but the opposite exists within me. Located at where all of us naturally process our thoughts. My mind is broken. Rather it is cracking to the point I can’t move or else it all fall apart. What is this irritating crackling feeling within me? It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t feel good either. It makes me want to scratch my insides, but there is that feeling of not being able to reach.

The cold light hits my eyes. The blinds are barely covering me due to the angle of the sun. It happens to be only 5 and the sun is up. It must be summer solstice doing its job. I wonder how exactly this is gonna work. The only time activity actually starts today is at 7am. I can’t go to sleep. I just guess I will prepare for the day.

The bathroom could be found at the side of my bed. The bed is a high bed and I am situated below. To not make it inconvenient for movement the upper portion is completely without mattress, so I share the bottom. The person beside me is my friend Mao. Her name is sounded like Kapow but instead of using Kap is has M. Don’t try sounding her name like a cat, by calling her Meow because she dislikes it. She might not show it be she dislikes having her name mispronounced.

She is still sleeping.

I might as well just go and brush my teeth. First I have to find my glasses.

I get out of bed and head to the bathroom. In the bathroom an atmosphere hygienic blue can be felt. The cold tiles make the whole place colder than the sleeping area. For the event a lot of people sleep like in a barracks and we share a common bathroom. Girls and boys are separated by two large rooms.

I finish my daily routine and check myself in the mirror. I have really dark eyes, but they aren’t black just red-brown and my hair is pure black but is edge with red under the sun. My characteristics are quite common, just to be proud about it. I don’t stand out unless I smile since I have a quite pleasant looking smile, sadly not many get to see that pleasant form of my face.


Suddenly I jolt from the door opening and rush to get back to my bed. I don’t know who it is but this is training so anyone who might be up before seven will have to help cook the food for breakfast. I am lazy so I hid, instead.

Because I rushed too much, I accidentally hit the mattress too hard I reached the metal frame, making my side ache. Even from all the motion earlier my companion is still asleep. So I cover my body, except for a tousle of my hair popping out, using the blanket. At the end of it, I did fall asleep once again, due to the pain that is.

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Preview: Tim Can on Robot Hill

Story snippet:


There is a place similar to utopia.
There are no poor, there are no sick,
and there are no hungry to be rich.
The air is fresh and the birds do sing.
Everyone lives peacefully, in discipline.
In a hill full of only robo-kin.

In a vivid place with a tree, full of green.
Here walks a can. Named Tim Can.
“Clink, clunk, clink, clunk,”
Was the sound of him.
The racket made by one little tin,
With his baggy pants-like bin.

Stories such as Gift of Nausicaa and others will start to be updated every week. One chapter per different story, to be specific, will be updated each week.