great.

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.