Running away from my problems and responsibilities

Undead, dying

I need to work, but I just can't bring myself to do it

Nothing makes me feel good

I have to do something, but everything makes me bored

Now I can't even draw

Grouping pictures in Macrosof Words could be fun, I guess

My head is filled with bed thoughts

Yours seems fine, Todd

Life wouldn't suck for you, you're just too good for that, aren't you?

Inside your pretty little head

Fun, isn't it? Not worrying about who you are, what you do, how you do things?

Everything is just fine, isn't it?