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?
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