Essay on Chapter 1: Resurrection

I looked up and I froze. My tongue was twisted up and the thoughts in my brain froze. My heart was beating out my chest as I saw the monster lips played the cruelest smirk ever.

I lay back conjoined in pain with other bodies in a strange trance of celestial transcendence. I observe the sky with eyes shut as the internal northern lights throb to the beat of my heart. The rhythmic electric throngs of pain pain pulsates inside my flesh and bones like a patterned grammar that I can almost translate. I have decided to listen to the

For a brief moment in time, I felt severed from reality. The myriad of emotions within me: sadness, outrage, chagrin, relief, were overwhelming and forced me into a state of numbness. I was then shocked back to reality by the people around me, and I started to make sense of the chaotic neural messages within my brain. One fact soon became clear - I was an utter failure.

My mouth moved up and down, no sound coming forth from it, and I shielded my throbbing eyes with my right hand as I attempted to look at the host of angels without directly looking at them.

I feel happy and relaxed as my legs brush up against the scratchy slate gray carpet. I look up and see colorful chewed pieces of gum stuck underneath the brown wooden table. The smell of popcorn and cookies mix with the stench of sweaty children. Screaming children can be heard in the distance but the hum of the air conditioning is the most prominent sound filling my ears. Touching the soft reality escaping portal my hands lie still. My eyes wander and there are kids reading, talking, and even sleeping. I feel safe within these four boring gray walls filled with colorful Picasso like papers dominating the eyes of the viewers. I pick up an object next to me that is cold against my warm palm. I bring it to my lips and the sweet bubbly caffeine trickles down my throat. Peace and comfort are felt in this small corner under this desk.

migraines, she feared getting up abruptly would trigger the habitual nausea, so she took a deep breath and relaxed her tense muscles, opening her senses to her surroundings. A refreshing whiff of salty air filled the room and the distant rumbling sound of crashing waves against rocks soothed her. Those were familiar to her, after living by the ocean for the last four years. Her lips curved up as she smoothed the soft bed linen under her palms. As she stretched on the mattress that hugged her body, she reached up and tucked her hands under the pillow. Extra soft, probably stuffed with goose feathers.

In Gabriel Garcia-Marquez’s Novel Chronicle of a Death Foretold He explored many different topics such as cultural values, gender equality and social viewpoint, but the one most fascinating to me was his way of making the ideals of religion and culturalism complement each other and how he could also make them enable each other.

There was a soft, blue light delicately caressing my face. Beneath me was an imperceptibly light, cottony substance I didn’t care to name. I hardly seemed to be breathing, as though I had drifted away from my body. Wherever I was, there was no time, no purpose. I was destined to float here, blissfully oblivious, on the fringes of reality forever.

Unwelcoming, dimly lit, and uneast silence striked my well being as soon as the tip of my tender toe timidly touched the then fuzzy capet of the computer commons. The presence of not one enthusiastic soul was detected by my bodys radiation. The dark undercircles beneath the eyes, green veins pulsing at every click of a key, the slight growl of hunger from their rumbling tummys, all tell tale signs of an individual who wished to be undisturbed in their creative thought process, better yet last minute cramming. The beings skin glowed a faint blue from the glow of their slim black magestic boxes. A void so quiet even the deaf could hear. It was almost as if I culd feel every heart beating alongside the rhythmn of mine. One sigh indisperasable

I woke up to the rythmic sound of the rain pattering on the roof. I stretched my aching limbs across my bed to see what time it was. “7:oo” the clock read. Annoyed that I had woke up so early on a Saturday, I burrowed back into my covers and squeezed my eyes shut. I laid there for a while like that, waiting to be lulled back by the crying winds into my sweet dreams. My breath was stifled by the heavy, humid air. Tiny water molecules collected into a thin coat on my face, begging me to wipe them away. I let them sit there, hoping that if I stayed still enough, my body would sink into sleep. I wanted to stay there as long as I could.

Those were the words that came, and so I obeyed. Summoning all my strength, I raised my blade and sliced at the demons closing in. I struggled to clear my mind; to try and escape the torture. My vision was hazy, and I felt dizzy. I continued to fight.

The last thing I saw was a tunnel of bright white light. A tiny piece of me told me not to walk down it, but that piece was so minuscule and I was so curious that I walked toward the light. When I was about fifty feet from the light everything turned black.

I do not think I had much of a reaction to what I saw. I turned away, feeling a quiet wave of joy and adventure suddenly wash over me. I found myself moving through a passageway filled with light. There I was surrounded by a peaceful, loving and welcoming group of “glowing balls of light.” No words were exchanged but instead heart-felt feelings that created thoughts and ideas.

First and foremost, in considering having a savior sibling the quality of life after future medical procedures that are endured should be taken into contemplated. Also, to consider is the religious affiliation and moral standing consequences of deciding on having a genetically engineered donor aka “savior sibling”. Furthermore, to contemplate the psychological impact of savior sibling knowing their intended purpose of their birth as to save the life of a sibling. Significantly as important are the wishes of the ailing sibling and their thoughts of a savior sibling. Another avenue to explore is the effects it will take on the immediate family members that take a part in the daily care and support for both children. The psychological impact for each party involved may vary, but can be considerably damaging if not in agreement with the decisions that have been made for either child.

In our second article critique we have to critique an article about “The Resurrection of Christ: Theological Implications” written by Daniel B. Wallace. Before getting to the content in this article we must first talk some about the author.