Not Gonna Sleep- F*** that shit, I'm gonna write. SLAM

Mom says it's time to go to bed
but sleep I wont wed
no sir
my eyes are open with illustrations
creations
that appear out of thin air
and sink their plotting nails into my hair
and say "Hey, write."
I wont lie.
many a time I've been seduced
(I've deduced)
that my mind may have been impregnated
congested
by a constant flow of characters and ideas
and onomatopoeias
that feel like a mindgasm
a muscle spasm
that sends words dancing across my hand
which will write them in a thin band
of intelligent construction
on paper, napkins, skin, no matter where, this production
will be mine, and mine
and mine.
and so mom says go to bed
but I can't
she wont understand
that I'm too busy giving birth
to ideas of elephantine girth
cus boy, I'm like Eminem
I too can rhyme with orange
been able to since a young age
see what I just did there?
Yeah, that's called writing,
misbehaving
simply stating
I've got fingers
and I've got brain
and as long as I can gain
new ideas and newfound knowledge
my bed time's gonna be in pain
Mama,
I'm not going to sleep tonight
I'm not going to sleep again.

Thanksgiving! Time to pig ooout!

Thanksgiving is on Thursday. Do you know what this means?

TIME TO PIG OUT.

Or if you're on a diet, you know, eat moderately and enjoy severely.

I'm the biggest fan of Thanksgiving, no joke. It's going to sound bad, but I've got a pretty warped Thanksgiving concept. I'm one of those kinds of people that keeps the "thanks" inside, I could be extremely thankful and not say a word about it. It sucks because people take that as being ungrateful (shocker!) and spoiled and then they hate you.

Anyway, as I was saying, I have warped concept of Thanksgiving, it goes something like this:

It shouldn't be that way, I know, I know. Which is why I'm trying to fix my ways and be more thankful this year :D I'm trying to help Mom more around the house, as well as not making her so mad anymore. It's a little hard, we clash on many things, but we always love each other, and in the end that's what matters.

I feel like this generation is just not thankful enough, and that saddens me because it applies to my own person. You don't always have to say "thank you" you know? Actions do speak louder than words, as cliche as that sounds. But I won't preach. I wrote a poem about thanksgiving, but the teach has my journal :C therefore I can't share. Poop.

Reverse, Reverse!

I don't have anything to teach today. It's a sunny, beautiful day in Kansas, but I really don't feel the heat. I'm mellowed out and ready to hit up the weekend with the million plot bunnies bouncing around in my head. Duuude, I'm switching this blog today. No more lessons, you guys go learn on your own; the only thing I'll teach you are my stories and poems. I need to start building a fan-base anyway...bleh.

Here's a poem I wrote a while ago, it implies something, I'm sure you'll figure it out; but hey, don't judge, I don't do it so I wouldn't know if this is what it feels like. I just wrote.

Stardust


She holds a breath in
Keeping the stardust trapped in her lungs
Rappid flow of stars accross
Her eyelids
And she lets it go with a whisper
The stardust whithers and whiters

And then it's gone
Songs swell in its place
Melodies enchanting
Promising
Golden years to come

And then it's gone
And tears swell in its place
Sparkling dropets
Full of her life
Told in rain

Only the memories remain
The hit just brought on more pain
Colors fade
Facade is back in its place
She reaches for the another hit
And holds the stardust in.

Puppy Dogs and Sunshine----not really, it's not always this pretty.

Life isn't always a big ball of sunshine, over these high school years of mine I have come to this realization. There's no way around it. 


There's no good without bad, and there's no bad without good, no matter how hard we wish for it to work differently, it wont. I came to this conclusion after getting an email this afternoon from a fellow animal-rights advocate. He was telling me the story of a dog named Crusty, and how his owners had neglected him so much he suffered from a severe case of sarcoptic mange, they then dumped him. For those of you who don't know what sarcoptic mange is, here's my next lesson:


Mange (manj)-A skin disease of mammals caused by parasitic mites that causes severe itching, hair loss, and the formation of scabs and lesions. In humans it is known as "scabies" or "the seven year itch." The kind that affects canines is sarcoptic mange.

The mites burrow into the skin and cause a severe allergic reaction, which causes the dog to intensely scratch at its skin and raise the chances of skin damage and infection. Hair loss and crusting over of the skin is as common as it is painful. Dogs with this condition are in extreme pain most of the time and are also in the worst condition imaginable. 

Their weight drops to the point where they are just a sack of bones, their skin crusts over from the various wounds they open by accidentally scratching too hard, and the infections cause the dog to maintain a horrible body odor. 

You tell me, if your pet were suffering from something this severe would you ignore them? Would you let them sit around in pain that would make their teeth rattle? I sure as hell wouldn't.

 That baby did nothing wrong. I mean, the worst he could've done is what, pee on some slippers? Does he look like he needs to be going through that kind of pain? No. He doesn't. That's why amazing funds and people are out there fighting for the ones with no voice.

Labs and Friends.org set up a page for people to chip in for Crusty, and so far they have raised $1,366 out of the $2000 they are shooting for. I am proud to say that I donated to Crusty tonight. I thought about my dog, Jonah, and I felt the pang of pain at the image of him suffering, so I took out my debit card and teamed up with PayPal.

I feel accomplished.

If any of you guys want to help him, here's the link to his page: http://labsandfriends.chipin.com/crusty-severe-mange-dog-from-north-central.

Lesson taught. Maria out.

Larping Through a Field of Daisies

Hey. You.

How's it going, bro?

This is the official birth of OGAOP (of gore and oil pastels). That last post? Psht, that was just the intro; things shall be juicer henceforth. 

A lot of things have happened since I last posted (which was what, two hours ago?). Like: I got my first beard hair. 

Just kidding. 

What did happen though was that I decided what this oh so hated blog will be about: everything, and teaching you about this everything. It'll be about my love for the random and disgusting, the bright and the dark, the stupid and the serious. You name it, I'll research it and show it to you. 

I was lucky enough, actually, to run across a couple of videos I recorded when my friends and I last went to Wichi-con, an anime convention of epic proportions. After bathing in a tub full of cynical wisdom, I decided to have them be the content of this first post.

On to the first lesson:

Larping (lahr-peeng):a type of game where a group of people wear costumes representing a character they create to participate in an agreed fantasy world. Uses foam sticks as swords, foam balls as magic and other props to create the games world; fighting with hand-made pretend weapons. Yada, yada.

Upon searching the interwebz thoroughly, I found that LARPing started out in the 70's, and that larpers were inspired by table-top games such as Dungeons and Dragons and Traveler:

Instead of keeping the game strictly to the board, players started to bring the worlds to life to try and experience the settings themselves. I could quote a whole Wiki page on the subject, but I'm not going to.

 Play ranges from blow-your-mind-away-it's-so-fantastic-look-I've-got-elf-ears, to educational purposes, to create past or futuristic worlds, or to simply smacking each other with foam, handmade swords; in the latter case, this is done simply to humiliate your opponent...wait, never-mind, that's a personal reason. 

I've never larped myself, actually. I tried once. ONCE. The result? I wacked my best friend over the head with a swimming noodle covered in duct tape. She retaliated by taking a make-shift foam axe and slamming the bajesus out of me. All in all, larping is a cup of tea that some enjoy and others would rather watch from afar. It's a step beyond a board game, and a footstep away from another world as well as beating the crud out of someone in a funny costume.

Now for that Wichi-con video. I must say thank you to Sam Crabtree and Kris Isaacs. I knew I had dated Kris for a reason:

Thanks for providing me with funny videos to humiliate you with.

Let the larping begin.

Rebirth

So,

it's been a while since I put on my blogging pants and took a peek in here. The worst thing is, I'm not even doing it willingly. See, this year I'm taking a freakin' awesome Writing class called Writer's Workshop, and we've been forc--assigned to make and keep up with a blog. Said blog has to be a hybrid of our love of writing and something else.

I don't know what that something else is.

I love a lot of things:

Iiii love my Mom
Dad

Lolo (the bf)

food

music

art

dogs

cats

fart jokes

poop jokes

pudding

Uh...

Don't get me wrong. I'm not a bland person. I'm just...special. :D I love way too many things to pick one and force all my attention to stick to it. Usually if I try and stick to one thing for a long time I end up looking like this:

I have the dire flaw of being a procrastinator, which is why this task is going to be arduous. My brain is made to observe once, laugh, and then go on to look at something else. High school just doesn't mix well with that.

I'll give it my best though. I've got other clueless classmates, an amazing boy, and two talented hands to get me through this.

One thing's for sure: you're definitely going to see a looot of weird stuff going on around here. Signing off for now,

 Like a boss.