Friday, October 26, 2007

Calderón

Calderón

http://www.csdp.org/news/news/mexico.htm

POstitive opinion on Calderon´s drug war

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ethan-nadelmann/mexico-president-calderon_b_42376.html

US on Mexico´s drug war

Bush and the US on the drug war http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20601086&sid=aXEECTIBOZPk&refer=latin_america

Monday, October 15, 2007

Something WIcked This Way Comes

SOMETHING IS COMING Murmurs, heavy breathing. Cold and dark, the dense air sucks your soul like a black hole. My mind is lost, nowhere to see and nothing to breathe. Damp mud rips my clothes off. I can’t stand the nasty rashes caused by chafing of wet trousers. My bloody hands won’t stop dripping. My veins are pulsing, they ache. Never have I seen a wound so big in my life. It was a cut, a sword slash, from the tip of my knee to the bottom part of my elbow. My teeth are sore, my tongue is dry. Blood runs down my mouth and nostrils, like streams of water after a heavy rain. My feet barely touch the underwater surface and my head is just about poking out in this stupid, damp container of water. I can’t drink anything, a horrible feeling when your clothes act like weights that drag and drown you to the bottom of the cave. I will get infected. I can imagine the dozens of microbes feasting on my naked flesh. “Something is coming” were his last words. I can’t walk through the salty water. Corpses grasp my body and obstruct my only path. I can hear the icicles laughing and the boulders screeching. My heart is pounding like a million drums that hang on to the beat, unknown to what is yet to come. None are alive; I am the only survivor, that monstrous beast fed on everyone. They all sacrificed themselves for my living. Why would I be so important? The echo of stomping footsteps gets louder every second. It’s coming. I can’t hide anymore, it’s not safe. I try to take an enormous breath, which, as the water leaks and overflows into my dry, bloody mouth makes me think of it as my last breath. It wasn’t. I couldn’t think of anything else to do, so I made an effort to push aside the corpses and miss by inches the sharp, razor blades attached to the giant boulders. Footsteps become louder. The sound echoes and bounces from ear to ear, pounding suspense into my suffering heart. They vanish. Its here, hungry. A deadly claw crashes and bursts the ceiling open, dashes down, piercing my skin and bones. I choke. It rips my veins and tears the cartilage from my back. It fed. I felt his eagerness for blood dripping on my face in a red agony. I can’t stand the pain. My eyes burned and ached. My sight was getting blurry. Everything started to spin and play me illusion tricks. A piercing sharp boulder woke me up, splashing and staining myself with blood. More blood was wasted. I hit solid on the few boulders reaching out of the water. I was floating in the dense amount of salty water that was dragging me down, everything pitch black, I blacked out and fainted. Yann Herrera 9C

Something WIcked This Way Comes

Murmurs, heavy breathing. Cold and dark, the dense air sucks your soul like a black hole. My mind is lost, nowhere to see and nothing to breathe. Damp mud rips my clothes off. I can’t stand the nasty rashes caused by chafing of wet trousers. My bloody hands won’t stop dripping. My veins are pulsing, they ache. Never have I seen a wound so big in my life. It was a cut, a sword slash, from the tip of my knee to the bottom part of my elbow. My teeth are sore, my tongue is dry. Blood runs down my mouth and nostrils, like streams of water after a heavy rain. My feet barely touch the underwater surface and my head is just about poking out in this stupid, damp container of water. I can’t drink anything, a horrible feeling when your clothes act like weights that drag and drown you to the bottom of the cave. I will get infected. I can imagine the dozens of microbes feasting on my naked flesh. “Something is coming” were his last words. I can’t walk through the salty water. Corpses grasp my body and obstruct my only path. I can hear the icicles laughing and the boulders screeching. My heart is pounding like a million drums that hang on to the beat, unknown to what is yet to come. None are alive; I am the only survivor, that monstrous beast fed on everyone. They all sacrificed themselves for my living. Why would I be so important? The echo of stomping footsteps gets louder every second. It’s coming. I can’t hide anymore, it’s not safe. I try to take an enormous breath, which, as the water leaks and overflows into my dry, bloody mouth makes me think of it as my last breath. It wasn’t. I couldn’t think of anything else to do, so I made an effort to push aside the corpses and miss by inches the sharp, razor blades attached to the giant boulders. Footsteps become louder. The sound echoes and bounces from ear to ear, pounding suspense into my suffering heart. They vanish. Its here, hungry. A deadly claw crashes and bursts the ceiling open, dashes down, piercing my skin and bones. I choke. It rips my veins and tears the cartilage from my back. It fed. I felt his eagerness for blood dripping on my face in a red agony. I can’t stand the pain. My eyes burned and ached. My sight was getting blurry. Everything started to spin and play me illusion tricks. A piercing sharp boulder woke me up, splashing and staining myself with blood. More blood was wasted. I hit solid on the few boulders reaching out of the water. I was floating in the dense amount of salty water that was dragging me down, everything pitch black, I blacked out and fainted.