domingo, 30 de agosto de 2009

Through The Gate I Shall Be Gone

Margaret Baldwin is my name. There’s no certainty on how old I am. Dead? Not yet I suppose. But I’m close to it, that’s a fact.

I have been standing behind this door for an eternity now and it seems that my staying will last for some more, This place, horrid. Lights? There’s none. Cold? Freezing to the bone. I can’t move, it feels like those dreams where you can’t scream of horror, no voice nor sound will come out of your mouth. Where you want to run to escape a fatal destiny but your legs move slowly and get slower with every second that passes you feel like taking yers to move an inch way from your ground.

I’m alone now but haven’t always been. There have been two opportunities now where I have had the company of different people. One, the first one, was an old man. Old, even older, so old he couldn't even remember his age. His face showed infinite centuries which had passed through him endless night and days that he could no longer enjoy. He did not speak and it was useless for me to speak to him. His eyes nevertheless revealed the beauty he had once had.

Such glitter was ever to be seen but in those huge pair of great lighthouses. Immense, blinding and serious at all times but carrying a certain touch of joy within. They reflected a picture of myself which I hadn’t stopped to examine for centuries. All of this open wounds just delved into my thousand wrinkle face

He didn't stay long but those were times were I could be, or some part of me, unaware of my situation and the atmosphere which surrounded my suffering being. Somehow his eyes shone with a kind of blissful light and revealed to mine apart from my physical twist of reality, the truth about the room. It was my height and there was space just enough for us both. The walls didn't seem like solid material and they weren't either stable or immutable. I could just imagine it re-shaped when someone else came in. Along with his years ran long times of his dwelling in this hole. He looked like a man who had been more than once in this place. Somehow I was sure it was going to be his last one.

There was a heavy door, more likely a gate. Ancient and dark as the creepy atmosphere which covered us both. It worked as entrance and exit. That's all I knew about it. He was gone.

Some long and deep thinking time passed be and the tribal shaped metal opened and the darkness gave some little space as she entered. Nine? Ten? I couldn't dare to ask, not even after she did with her soft but high pitched voice. I couldn't answer more accurately than "Much more than you I'm sure" She chuckled.

We could only exchange words for a little while. Her time was short here. That lovely and tranquil sound lasted until the end in my mind, for my old brain and eyes weren't able to take hold of her face for long. My memory of her lies in my ears. Once in a while I remember. Once in a while I'm comforted by her.

My chest hurts. My head bursts. This place has given me enough to think about and has shown me another picture of life that I hadn't seen in older times.This just doens’t feel normal. There's no joy to enjoy. Even colors have stayed behind.

Today I spit blood. Dark and thick. My blood, a bad signal. The end must be close. So much suffering is unfair. I want it to end...to end...My bones are already too weak to bear my own weight. I can feel my scalp, my veins are wrinkled and voluminous. I shake. I tremble. Oh God, can you hear me? Will you listen to my prayers? Do something! Tears splashed over my saggy cheeks. Their taste I could not even make out. I can sense bags below my eyes.

My lungs have shrunk and won't let sufficient air in. The gate is opening wide. I inspire deeply. I crawl outside but I am unable to describe the view. My eyes are dead. I think I’ve given my last breath. Everything turned so dark...so...dark... Her eyelids joined together.

Down below, in another dimension, in a hospital room a machine made a monotonous high pitched sound. The body lied peacefully immobile. Stone cold. A clean white sheet covered the departed.




Short story I had to write for English lesson. I liked the idea and I thank God that I had to finish writing it.
Comment!



Lucas Craig

jueves, 27 de agosto de 2009

New Era Genocide

Ways of murdering exist plenty, but the vilest clearly is abortion. Selfishness, unconsciousness and enclosed minds lead to the worst of them all. The "just for pleasure" use of sexual relationships ends up in a clear DEAD end operation, quite simple nowadays, but the situation created is much more complicated. The road is winding and there's no need to mark it with innocent blood.


As teenagers minds seems to grow in lots of different aspects they don't seem to acknowledge the consequences of a life lived before it's time. Sex, in the religious point of view will tell us that it is supposed to mean life, creation, human race, not just a pleasure killer method. Yes, it's meaning has become a way of killing time or in the "best" of cases, as a fountain of pleasure.

Young couples and the selling of condoms together are bringing death to all societies. They are all influenced by T.V. and internet because of pornographic web sited which depicture the sexual act as a normal and daily life activity. This new and false images create a fake scene in peoples minds and without thinking deep, they just copy. Being unaware is the worst mistake you can commit when you are young and still attending to school because if you end up pregnant there's not much of another way out than leaving the innocent creature to an adoptive family or take the operation.

This sequence of unfortunate and mistaken events leads to a massive web of suffering. The aborting does not only hurt the close-to-be-mother, but also the was-gonna-be-dad their parents, everyone involved is prejudiced. But above all this pain caused unconsciously stands a baby. A human life, thrown away. Slaughter. Murder. Annihilation. That's not a hyperbole for in the end abortion is killing a living being. Shocking? Shouldn't be doing it! This is a reality we have been and are living in these days.

Shocking? This theme goes on and just gets worse when we get into moral. What do you think about when you are trying to decide either to kill a baby or not? Life is unfair? Well it shouldn't be and could at least be a little better without this. Pictures of life are drawn delicately by Hemingway's "Hills Like White Elephants" The example given is the one I have been using all along. Lustful couple traveling around the world enjoying a mattress gets into confusion and complications as their plan of being a doublet gets sabotaged by a growing fetus. Options for the female part of the duet are either keep on living as she has been or accepting her gift of life inside of her without his male companion. Ups and downs of life, new tastes and different choices have to be made. Dangerous or courageous has to be, for it si a matter of life and death.

Let's change the motto and exclaim: "Live and let live!" We'll feel the ebbs and flows, pushes and tows in life, because that is something that awaits for us all. Life, we have too admit, it's a lot a times arbitrary, so why don't we just take advantage of those days? Life is given to us, won't we take it? Will we reject it?
Think of how happy you will be with someone who grows up on your arms. How happy he will be knowing he has loving parents who took care of him. Raise your head up and say no to abortion, yes to life.


This is an essay I've just written. Free theme, I chose abortion. We'll see what grade they put me :)

Lucas Craig.

martes, 25 de agosto de 2009

Masquerade (progress)



Ah...me encanta, este dibujo lleva su tiempo, no solo de dibujar sino de pensar en q hacer, como etc.
Lo sigo cada tanto, pero este tenia que mostralo, hace un tiempo mostré los primeos pasos.

Lucas Craig.


Ah...I love it. This drawing take lots of my time, not only for drawing it but thinking how and what and where.
I add somethings once in a while, but I had to show the progress I had done since the last time I showed it to you.

Lucas Craig.

domingo, 23 de agosto de 2009

Unknown Dimension



Lo hice en las vacaciones de invierno, hace mucho que no hacia nada con pastel y aora estoy voelviendo e hice muchas cosas nuevas, quedaron buenas.

Ultimamente estoy inspirado. Me siento bien, estoy feliz. No necesito nada mas.


Lucas Craig.

I made this one on winter holidays, it had been a long time since I had last made some pastel work. Now I've come back to it nicely and done some new stuff which actually are very nice.

Lately I have been inspired. I'm feeling good, I'm happy. Don't need anything else.

Lucas Craig.

sábado, 15 de agosto de 2009

Neglected Angel




Está en proceso y le falta poco ya...

Espero que les guste. No tengo ni la mas mínima inspiración para escribir.

Lucas Craig.



This one is in process and it's almost done luckily.

I hope you like it. I'm all out of inspiration to write anything.

Lucas Craig.

sábado, 1 de agosto de 2009

Abandonned & Neglected



Eh aqui uno sin terminar. Como lo plantea el dibujo, el espantapajaros está abandonado asi como lo dejé yo.
Cuervos que nos van haciendo daño cuando deberian quedarse alejados. Un árbol que tampoco sirve de consuelo ni para cubrirse.
Impotencia. Sentirse clavado al piso sin poder reaccionar, sin saber como. Sentimos que nos faltan las manos.
Optimismo. Esa minima sonrisa que nos mantiene vivos en ESOS momentos.
Pero claro, no hay nadie al lado para ayudar. Nunca hay nadie. Nadie entiendo nuestra situcacion. ¿Queremos cambiar? ¿ellos quieren que cambiemos? No me parece. Vivamos como nunca.
Agarrá mi mano...


Lucas Craig.