Fifty Breeds Of Pitbull

The Secret Life of a Pitbull Fangirl

Saku's POV

Its not easy being who I am, the person I've become. School has been harder for me because no one knows my true feelings. I have friends and we do have our common interests, but none of my friends know my strongest interest. Its not easy, being different than everyone else. I walk down the hallways looking at the people, over hearing their conversations, mocking and making fun of my interest. It saddens me that I cannot live openly to the public. There's has been times when I wanted to give up, and times when I wanted to scream it at the top of my lungs, so loud, it can be heard worldwide. I'm the quite girl during class. Yes there is your goths, jocks, cheerleaders, populars, cliques, and then there's me, but I stand out for one reason in particular. Most of you people think that I am talking about my sexuality or how I'm abused or that I am in love with the jock that isn't in love with me, but you're all wrong. That isn't the truth. The truth is that I am in love with Pitbull, the rapper.

Whenever I play his raps that he features in the songs every artist makes, everything feels different. I am more happy, relaxed. I feel like myself. His lyrics are so meaningful and poetic, especially when he howls, showing his inner animal. I want to be the first person in his globalization, the glob-able warming that is his albums. He probably names his albums after that because he is so damn fine
though and on fire. Did I mention his bald head makes my toes curl and lick my lips.

I can't mention my love for him at school, people will think I'm weirder than I already am. Its because who says "I like Pitbull's music?" No one does... and that makes me sad. No one says "Did you buy floor seats for his Globalization tour?" as well so I have to keep that a secret too. I've seen him perform four times and I get butterflies thinking about it every time. Once I think he saw me, in the crowd as thirteen year old me was jumping up and down between twenty two year old Cubans holding a sign that said "I wanna lick your bald head" with light up Sketchers on my feet, but thats probably my imagination running.

I write songs when I am alone. Hopefully, one day, Pitbull will roll his tongue, howl and say "Dale" before rapping in half english, half spanish about stuff that barely relates to my song. I've come up with so many ideas. Some nights on the weekends I record samples of my songs using the Acapella app with my harmonica, maracas, and my okay vocals.

"Turn that damn Bullfrog or whatever you call it off!" My mom called at the bottom of the stairs.

"But this is my fav song on the 'Planet Pit' album mom" I said turning it down.

"You play that song six times a day!"

"True," I say to myself.

I turned off the stereo and spun around in my chair facing my life size Pitbull poster. "They just don't understand," I whispered to him. His grin and pointed wannabe goatee stared back at me and I smiled. The poster was positioned in such a way that it looked like he was looking at my bed. I hope he can look at me asleep like that some day.

I opened my laptop and started my homework, after an hour I got side tracked and started thinking about my life. I thought that being a doctor isn't the right career for me to do and that my dad needs to understand my passion for REAL music, not classical piano, but what iTunes calls "Southern-flavored party rap called crunk" that is Pitbull.

After that, I got bored and googled "Pitbull" then clicked images. I scrolled through all the photos; day-dreaming about my daddy, when my actual dad interrupted me.

"You aren't going to be a doctor if you keep listening to that damn pop music," he said.

"Dad its not pop its 'Southern-flavored party rap' AKA crunk," I explained rolling my eyes.