deforestation; what is now occurring in the habitat I call home. Does my body dislike me? Does it have its secrets and tells the world. I want to be the penny that drops in the middle of a deadly quiet class. I want to be the  rat, who is so awfully hated, that they have now made traps. I want myself to pay attention to me. I think that is something in which we all believe. My friends are the world, along with me and my beautiful family. Sometimes I don't feel the support but I suppose I'm not made of spaghetti. Plastered in some kids bowl, tangling me up like he knows what he likes and being so helpless...but I'm so happy I have support.