I sound like a freak.

What a week, what a week...

I mean, fuck..

How are you guys? How are you feeling? Do you honestly think I care? No. I do not.

 Unless you're Chris, or Cherish, then I care. So if you're them: LEave a long comment detailing you week so I can giggle and smile at your funny times, or blush at the words describing embarrassing moments. Also, If your Chris: Make me blush by talking dirty. You're very good at it, nasty boy<3

I sound like a freak...

 No but really, tell me about your week you guys. HOW WAS YOURS?

Monday Monday Monday-No School.

Tuesday Tuesday Tuesday-Shit.

I was reunited with my friend Cherish (The broken nose hoe). Well, she read my blog, and got vibes off me. She told me her blog made her cry, etc, and wrote me this really long thing about how great I am, that she wants to be a better friend, and how much she loves me. Also: She wrote me a poem...Something she's very good at it. She, in turn, made me cry.

Tuesday, I told her I was mad at her and she flat out started crying. I tried to ignore it and her as much as possible. Honestly, I was still pissed at her. And no, it wasn't just because I invited her to six flags and she never really answered me. I mean, it's understandable. Cause she had a broken face and she "allegedly" had things to figure out with her dad...or something like that.

I wouldn't say I am still angry at her, or ever was, but I'm simply cautious. I don't want to tell someone all my thoughts and feelings, and everything I think...or be their friend and not feel that it is returned. 

She provides this-somewhat.

I feel that when she's around other people who she is friends with that I'm just like..secondary. I feel like I automatically get put like 5th next to bitches I don't like. This pisses me off cause she flat out tells me she trusts and loves me more than them. Not to mention, she's becoming great friends with a girl I fucking introduced her to and I now feel left out of the loop. What really bugs me is that when I invite her somewhere, and I do it all the time, she doesn't want to go, doesn't know if she can, or has to ask. So she asks, and even if they say yes she never gets back to me on it...ever, and when she does it's like 5 minutes before said event.

It pisses me off, and she never invites me anywhere. This all makes me feel like she doesn't have time for me, and the time she does have for me is when she's by herself, just her and I.

ALSO:

She can't talk seriously to me face to face. It has to be in a note, message, etc.

I sound obsessive and weird. I sound like a freak.

Wednesday Wednesday Wednesday-Hmmm.

I don't remember much about this day...but I will tell you this is the day I finally got fed up with my friend Erica being a totally nut sack douchey ass hole bitch donkey. Seriously, she has an attitude problem and she is being a huge bitch to me. Half the time she ignores me.

Chris went off to his competition for school. I think it had something to do with acting.

Thursday Thursday Thursday-Ugh):

I woke up and immediately tried to put on everything green and blue that my school's dress code would allow me to wear, which happens to be not much. Why? Because it was the 8th, mine and Chris's anniversary, well month-aversery...It was 11 months yesterday<3 and green and blue are our favorite colors, and preselected wedding colors. Yeah, we're getting married no matter what congress has to say. We'll got to Canada. So anyways, I wore blue and green to symbolize well...us. It may seem cheesy but oh well. Anyways, I was so exited cause Chris said we "may" be able to talk....like, on the phone..which is a big deal cause I haven't heard his voice in 73+ days. I still haven't): No, he didn't call...which crushed me, but that's okay. I expected that. He did say "maybe", right? So I have to let him off...but I'm still upset. We haven't talked all week cause he's off at competition and he obviously has things to do...But when it's our anniversary....month-iversary, whatever, I expect him to at least say something thing to me that day then the THREE, just THREE sentences he did. The entire day, at least he said "Happy anniversary"...right? I'm just really pissy cause I miss him so much and I just want to CHAT HIS FUCKING EAR OFF WITH HOW MUCH I LOVE HIM AND WHAT HE'S BEEN UP TO!....blaaaaaaaaaaaaah<3

I fear he may be taking me for granted or...falling out of love with me.

Do I sound like a freak?

Also, on Thursday morning my friend Olivia picked me up as usual, and she also had with her in the car Erica (no prob) and this other bitch's name who will not be said cause I am frightened off her fat ass. Anyways, she had this robot-baby thing she has to take care of for her childcare class, and the fucking thing would not shut the fuck up. So, Olivia punched it in the face. I couldn't stop laughing, you had to be there. Well when she went and turned in her roboinfant, the teacher informed her that it was deceased and that she would be receiving an F.

HAHAHAHAHAHA<3

Friday Friday Friday-Today:/

Nothing really happened today...more funny moments in the car with Olivia, Amanda, and Erica...LOL. Okay so, we were parked and there was this old lady and I was like "WRINKLY CLIT!" I guess it's not that funny, but oh well...we were all laughing..

I GOT MY GAGA CONCERT TICKETS FOR JULY<3

In gym I was staring off into the distance and I started thinking of how different my mom seems to be now than she was when she was my age. She was wild and crazy, and now she is strict and manner...and other people are so different and for some reason I began to cry. I was like "She is nothing like my mother, he is nothing like him...they're nothing like that" and that's when I realized I am always changing, everyone is...And I am just beginning. 

After school, we sang to Taylor Swift and sang really loud.

I HAVE A MEETING WITH A MODELING SCOUT ON TUEDAY.

Bet some of you didn't know I like to model, eh? I've had about 3 meetings with scouts, you know..interviews, one "real" shoot that is in some weird performance art magazine and several jobs and favors for college students as their "models". Yes...I want to model. Sue me.

I think I'm quite good:

They were all taken by college students. 

I want to be a different person. Wait, I don't mean that...but I want to be different. I don't want to change who I am but I'd like to perfect it. I want to be artistic and deep, beautiful and handsome and more intelligent and funny. I don't want to be mean and make people cry like I do. I want to be kind and refined. Kids, I want to be who I'm supposed to be. Like I said, my mom changed. People do. I know I'm just beginning, but I want to speed this process. Don't be rash, I'm not striving for perfection. I just want to be who I will ultimately become. I want to be Caylib, not Calib. Yes, I changed the spelling of my name, but only to serve as the beginning, the starting line. I want it show a simple change that alters everything. Calib is the old me, the rude and shy boy who blurts out curse words. I want to simply be....myself. I don't think I've found him yet. He could be at Harvard teaching law, or raising a family with Chris. He could be making love to his wife and pretending it's the ass of the new intern Jeff at the office. I honestly don't know where he is, who he is, or what he does. I know he's me, and that I need to become him. I know I need to be me and I know that I am still hiding it. I want to...unleash the force within. I want to wake up and love myself.

When I speak of all this change, all this growing and such I do not by any means mean that I am becoming someone else. I simply mean that I need to embrace Calib, Caylib..I need to learn what I want. Maybe I want to be that professor or gay father, or maybe I want to be that in the closet husband...I do not know yet, and I don't want to wait forever to find out because once I make the wrong choice, my college major or lifestyle, I cannot erase it. Am I not making sense, am I sounding like a freak?

Basically,

I am soul searching and discovering myself.

And it all starts with that "y" in my name. So simple, and it changes everything, right?

I want to wear Andy Warhol-esque sunglasses indoors. I want to strictly use chop sticks when eating...I want to visit museums and write books. I want to love Chris. I want to love the nature and green things. I want to live, I want to love. I want to live in my motherfucking bubble word.

I want to be myself. Search within. you should to. Are you being yourself? Huh? Are you truly who you WANT to be? Are those jeans you're wearing black because you like it? Or because other people wear them?

BE YOURSELF!

I've never been myself and look where it's fucking gotten me. I have few friends, I've been in every clique and kicked out. I'm depressed and awkward. 

please be yourself. I cannot stress that enough.

If college is not for you do not attend.

If you hate Lady Gaga burn your fucking CD.

If you hate pink cut that shirt your sister bought you.

If you want to be goth, be goth.

If you want to take a cooking class do it.

Don't ever be ashamed of who you are, and don't ever be embarrassed. If you're a guy, wear those goddamn stilettos if you want and look better than that bitch from Geography class.

If you want to live in the bubbles like me, do it...and if you don't, pop those sons of bitches.

Here's your shit of the week:

Picture-Brain Eater.

Video-Hilarioussss.

Song/Free mp3-Fancy Pants-Lady Starlight.

Go blow some bubbles.

Is it over yet?

I'm always told I'm just so funny. I tell these stories, and they make people laugh.

I've developed my humor very well, I think.

It wasn't that hard. I just turn all the sad horrible things in life into funnies. I'm clumsy and ditsy, but when I trip I bust up laughing. It's that simple. As for the stories?

They're funny.

Also, I tell insults. I say random things. I'm rude and horrible, and mean and cruel. I am blunt.

How did I come up with anything? Why am I funny?

Simple.

I was a child who needed to talk all the time.

I just blabber and blabber. I'm very opinionated. Eventually, you learn that not everyone in the universe wants to hear you talk. It becomes annoying, of course.

So I made it funny.

"I fell off the porch today" became "I was singing this song, and dancing down the stairs like people from those old cheesy movies...the ones with Audrey Hepburn when I slipped off, and screamed "Mother FUCK!"

Which one would you rather hear about?

I could tell you that I'm just sitting hear, IMing some girl, and blogging. But doesn't it sound so much better if I say it in a weird voice, and I add that I'm also listening to Britney Spears while in my underwear, and that my eye is twitching? It may not be funny, but it is more humorous. I know I'd rather hear you say your mom busted ass then "she had a fall". 

Be funny, be outrageous.

I want everyone to know everything about me. I've been told I'm hard to "read". I'm going to be outgoing.

I feel very adventurous. There are so many doors to be opened, and I'm not afraid to look behind them.

I'm going to pull open a door and yell into it. What will I yell? Everything.

I haven't read any of the autobiographies about me,

So I guess I should take matter into my own hands.

Is it over yet?

Spring break, I mean....and this school year.

I'm flunking. Bad. I won't tell you my exact grades, but they're bad.

Algebra and Chemistry hate me. I can't seem to wrap my head around them. I know we need them. Right now, my brain is calculating the distances of keys from my fingers so I can type...sorta subconsciously. I know I need math in everyday life. I'm not stupid. Like I said before: I watch Tyra...I know shit. I also know that I need chemistry. Right now, my body is breaking down my breakfast and lunch, churning it about and causing chemical reactions to produce more vitamins and sugars needed to rush through my veins to my organs..my brain..my heart<3 I'm alive because of chemistry.

I had a test before spring break, you guys...Two. One in chemistry. One in Algebra. I honestly think I got an A+ on the Algebra, cause I studied soooo hard. I'm proud of myself, cause I'm finally starting to balance my life out two years into high school. Maybe a little late, but hey....whatcha gonna do?

The chemistry test is a whole 'nother story. I don't think I necessarily flunked it...but, I don't think I did so good. Maybe a C? That's good, right? No. Not for me. I have to be perfect. I'm all ready ugly and gay, and I can't change that. I need to be smart again.

You see, school was always easy for me till this year. I had all A's always. I never had to try or study, and now I need to...and I'm too lazy. Also, I'm not exactly surrrrrrrrrre how to study. But I do it, and I think it paid off for math this time<3

Something I do do good in is History. I have a passion for it. The art, the stories. The people. When I read the biography of Marie Antoinette and her husband, the King of France I cried. You see, they were forced to take control of a country in poverty and unhappiness. The French rose up against them and behead them. It doesn't seem so bad, I mean....It was bad, but not enough to make you cry, right?

I have a passion for history. I don't think of it as facts, it's people. These are lives we're talking about.

How do you think King Louis felt when the peasants broke into the palace and dragged his wife and children and himself away to jail by their hair? I bet he was scared. That grown man cried.

How do you think Marie felt when she learned her husband was beheaded, her children taken and touched, and that she was never going to see them again? How would you feel?

“I was a queen, and you took away my crown; a wife, and you killed my husband; a mother, and you deprived me of my children. My blood alone remains: take it, but do not make me suffer long.”

The only surviving member of that royal family was  the eldest daughter, who was so scarred that she never had sex.

I hate when I say something about history, and the reply I get it is "I really don't remember much about Cleopatra. There were a lot of other things going on." It's true, but you should know something. Theses people are your brothers and your sisters. They were just like you. Do you want people to skim over you if you manage to dominate the entire ancient world? No, Cleopatra wouldn't want that either. She was brilliant.

My spring break, I regret to say, has been boring. I spent it worrying about my best friend's broken nose. She thinks I don't care. Honestly, the girl is annoying me. I do a lot for her, I stick up for her. I treat her great and share my secrets with her. I don't judge her. I'm a great friend, and she never seems to return the favors. She skims over me for her other friends. She doesn't want my company. It bothers me.

I "talked" to Chris a lot this week. The boy is so amazing.

He makes me feel like no one else exists..I love him so much. He finally makes me feel good about myself. That is why I love him so much. It's just not that he does that, it's just that...he goes out of his way to ensure my happiness and joy. He doesn't disappoint. Christopher is so amazing. It's been 74 days since I've heard his voice. It's hard with him living so far away. How can I be in love with someone who I don't see? It's simple. I just am. When I hear his voice, my heart beats so much. It beats really fast, and I can feel and hear it in my ears. My palms sweat, my mouth gets dry, and my knees become weak. His words do that to me. Just "Hello". When we first started dating, I doubted actually loving him. But then I started to cry just because I can't see him. I can't see his face everyday. I don't get to memorize the random dusting of freckles across his body, or the precise placement of moles and scars. I don't get to hug or touch him. No kisses...I have knots in my stomach right now, and I'm getting teary-eyed.

This is not just teenage shit. This is love. No one can understand but me and him. 

Emailing, Phone calls, fantasies, dreams and masturbation are not going to help, and they don't.

With love, I have it....We will be together forever and for eternity, I know it.

I'm starting to feel like it's not enough.

It's okay though. "1 1/2 years, Calib." Then I'll have the boy of my dreams.

I'm missing him, wishing he was here, in my arms.

Is it over yet? The 1 1/2 years? I want my baby boy.

I went to six flags with my new best friend, Olivia....not the broken nose hoe...lawl.

It was so funny, and fun. She's amazing. I feel like she gets me.

She also realizes I need to face the world. I fell off my cloud with a thud, and now I need to plant my feet firmly on the ground. Babies, I need to work on spreading my bubbles world wide. I want to be somebody. One bubble at a time<3

Remember, just 30 more years and people will get it.

Easter was great. School starts tomorrow. I'll have drama for you. Is it over yet? High School? Ugh.

Am I complicated?

I don't think so.

I just have a man's body and a child's emotions.

 *sigh*

History. Love. Chris. Art. Friends. Winters. Peace. GaGa. 

I've always admitted that I'm ruled by my passions.

And the Bubbles<3

Catching Up.

"You're a grown boy now,Calib."

"I know...Shut up!"

I'm so sick of everyone telling me how old I look, that I'm getting up there...That I need to get ready to face the future...I'm not stupid: I watch Tyra...I know shit. The problem is, how can I face the fucking future if I can't face the past or present? I can't deal with shit. I wouldn't say I've been through a lot in my 16 years. Hell, life is easy compared to others...probably. I mean, I'm not a meth-head. I'm not missing a limb. I don't have to trudge up a hill three miles in the winter happily to get to school like my grandfather says he did.

I still wish I could die. Babies, honestly...I do...sometimes. Other times I'm happy.

My life right now, this second, feels like it is crashing all around. But I guess we have to look at the beginning, back far far awaysssss..

Can I say nigger on here?

Let's catch up.

I was born on a cold snowy January night. No, I don't remember the time. My mother honestly still has no idea who my biological father is. I don't hold it against her, she was a young college girl who was swept of her feet by my "father"...the man I call dad, who sort of abused her. I don't hold that against him either. Neither are guilty. Pa was trying to keep is gal with him, she was falling out of love. He abused her, and she coped in the arms of other men. I could either be my "dad" 's, some other guys's or a half Asian half Puerto Rican named....I don't remember. I know he was short. I'm 6'5"...so you probably don't think he'd be the first place candidate, but to this day my parents still fight over "Marco's child"...that's me. I do look a little like him. I'd love to be 1/4 Asian. Honestly. 

So anyways, my parents met at the park pool. Mom was a life guard. Dad was the summer hottie. It's an old romantic comedy cliche, I know, but bear with me..they hit it off immediately. 

My mom didn't tell anyone she was pregnant till her water broke. Ha. She was twenty one. Grandma says she thought she was getting fat.

Marco and that other guy were long gone, so daddy signed the birth certificate. When I was one my parents broke up. They were never married.

I know this is all boring, but just read..

I was raised in my grandmother's house with my college going mother, and her three teen-aged sisters. I still have complexes about using the same bathroom as girls. Ugh.

I had a pretty normal childhood I guess. Lots of cousins. I was rotated to my dad on weekends. I think mom felt sorry for him, and tried to let him have me as much as possible. I was the only family he had. All his siblings, including his twin, were dead beats. Biological ones, that is. Dad was born into a family of ..drugs and murder, and crime...his dad was a killer, his mother a depressed teenager. When he was one, his mother tried to escape abuse from his father with my dad. She held my dad in her arms with her other children in the car as my biological grandfather stumbled, drunk, out of the trailer and shot her right between the eyes. My dad was covered in blood, and soon adopted by an elderly couple. My aunt Kandy says she still remembers her mother's blue eyes fading to white.

I'm not making this up, people.

Anyways, my father took care of me. He was an excellent dad. He eventually started messing with an Asian under-aged girl, who got pregnant and out popped my brother Simon. The same girl is now a man and lives in Arkansas, no joke. Father hasn't had much luck with ladies. He now lives with his girlfriend Jennifer in a small house, smoking pot, with her kids. I like them. He has two other kids besides me and Simon by his ex-fiance who is a psycho bitch. She once swung a microwave around like she was going to beat him with it. She swung it by the cord after tearing it from the wall. 

Mom met a man who was nice...and now they're married and have two kids. I love them, Ayden and Sierra. Step-father...I hate....

I feel like this is turning into a family history...it's just supposed to set this shit up, so you know what I'm talking about later on....

As a child I always new I didn't like girls...but I didn't like boys either. I was popular in elementary school, and really smart too. I was always different. I'd cry to mommy that the boys picked on me. I liked the trucks and cars, and the legos and such...but I liked playing power puff girls with all the little gals in the class.

I've always known I was different...always. On old report cards, I've found my teachers writing worried scrawlings to my mom cause I liked dress-up too much, or wanted a purple crayon instead of blue or red.

When I was 5 the neighbor boy, who was also 5, talked me into cuddling naked with him in the bath tub. We groped each others "pee pees"...I saw nothing wrong with it. My mom found us and freaked out. I was so embarrassed that I never spoke to him again. When I was 7 the other neighbor boy, who was 13, made me give him oral sex regularly for a summer. I hated it. It bothered me. I felt like a whore. It still bothers me. I have trouble being friends with other guys. 

I never thought I was gay, homosexual, ever...In middle school all my friends were girls. I couldn't trust boys. It was hell for me, those 3 years. HELL. I eventually dated my friend Morgan. She was so pretty, but I didn't like her. We were just best friends...I knew she really liked me. We'd have fun in every other way. Also, I went "emo" for her. Or, semi-emo. Idk. Kinda goth .I loved it. I still like Evanescence and Korn, Metallica...I love that shit. She eventually dumped me cause I refused to kiss her. When I came back in 8th grade, all my friends hated me. I became an even greater outcast. I believe this is where I became depressed. Everyone had always called me gay, and I was searching for answers....I went home and looked up gay porn. It didn't phase me. No boner. My mother checked the history on the computer, found out, and called my father. Her, my father, and her husband all hounded me for answers, and hacked my myspace looking for them. What they found was messages between me and some few friends, talking about me thinking I was bi. I cried for days. It took me till that summer to talk to my mom. I never mentioned it to my mom, step-dad, or dad again. I was ashamed. They thought I was one of those...A fag.

I knew I didn't like girls, and that I was...effeminate..sorta, but I didn't have an attraction to guys either. Though I did shamelessly flirt with both. I pretended to be bi, just cause I didn't know what else I could be. I made one friend who I still cherish to this day, and her name is indeed Cherish...lol, I guess.

We hit it off, her and I.

I told her I was bi, and she didn't have a problem with it. At all. This gave me some happiness.

When I got to high school, the first semester was hell. I had started puberty already, and still growing. Hormones were raging, and I guess I finally sprouted something in my brain that turned on my sexual side. I started liking boys. It was a curse and a gift. I wasn't a freak, I finally felt something for people, but it was the wrong gender. I became suicidal. I started making myself vomit...and I became anorexic. I wanted to be right in one way, and that way was being attractive. To this day I still starve on purpose sometime. In January I weighed 207 pounds. In February, 174 pounds and today, 153 pounds. My weight fluctuates a lot. I starve myself, and then eat anything in sight. It is a lot less worse than it was.

The second semester of freshman year was so fun and amazing, I got many many friends. I love them all, but today I have lost most of them. The ones I do have, I cherish so much...including Cherish. Towards the end of freshman year, I admitted to myself that I was gay, but refused to acknowledge it. At that point, I had never been physically attracted to another boy, or anyone, but I did crush on some boys. I had cleaned up my myspace page, which my mom still kept looking at. She wanted to make sure I wasn't "being bad and gay". Well, I joined this place called myyearbook. It's a really lame site, a rip-off of myspace and facebook. There's this little gadget on there where you can secretly admire people, other users, and I usually only skimmed through the girls usually...I wanted to be straight soooo bad. But one day, I looked through the boys and BAM. I was hit. There was this picture of a boy, a boy that I thought was the most cutest creature ever made. I admired him, his name was Chris...or something like that(; No, it was Chris. 

We started talking, and about a month later I asked this boy out. I love him. I fell in love with him. He's the most beautiful person I've ever met. It's almost a year and I am so lucky. I'm so attracted to his body, and mind, and soul. Chris is the best thing that has ever happened to me.

This school year, sophomore year, has been amazing. I have amazing friends an family. I'm so happy, yet deeply hurting. I can't explain it.

I sort of feel like no one gets me. Obviously. I just want to be understood. To do that, I need to understand the world around me, of course. It's hard. I live in my own bubble world ,where I'm giddy and weird. I might not be liked, but people know me. I live in the bubbles, so what? Maybe everyone ELSE is living wrong. Sure, I have...issues. But I get to be myself. People will get it, eventually. I just mean,
I want to leave my mark. This is me. This is about me. I'm a kid, I'm a freak. I curse and smile. A year from now, I could go away, and people might say, ‘Gosh, what ever happened to that boy who never shut up?’  But how wonderfully memorable it will be when 30 years from now, when they say, ‘Do you remember Calib and his laughs?’ Because, for a minute, everybody in that room will forget every sad, painful thing in their lives, and they’ll just live in my bubble world.

I feel sorta proud, like I'm gonna represent something. But then again, everyone is always claiming to be different, to be deep, to be troubled, to be living the best they can. I'll be the first to admit I am all these things. I'd love for this to get read. It's going to kill me if I only notice my boyfriend, or close friends read this.

      I'd be lying if I said I didn't want this to be big .I want a book deal. I'm not holding anything back. 
Honestly, I want this shit to make me. I want to be on Oprah.a