great.
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I, Brooky Standa, am broken and is very aware of it. I don't admit it, but i know it. And the only way i think that i can fix myself is by making someone love me.
And with cigarettes.
They make me feel good. They'll let me die young and not too old, as long as i don't smoke them too much. I know, thats a very stupid theory, but it makes me calmer.
I fall in love too easily. And i think that every boy i meet is secretly my future husband or something.
Anyways, this is my journal. I write everything in here. My feelings, happenings, sightings.
Boys.
~~~~~~~~~~~
He hurt me. So i wanted to hurt him by the only thing I could think of. By hurting myself. He cares too much not to care.
Everything is going great.
Sarcasm, its not great.
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