A Desperate Display of Nothingness
Your near-dead heart is running at a million miles an hour
Desperately trying to keep your head from collapsing in on itself.
Trying to prove you are valuable, interesting, worth the hassle.
Your near-dead heart is running at a million miles an hour
Desperately trying to keep your head from collapsing in on itself.
Trying to prove you are valuable, interesting, worth the hassle.
You are not your real self at work—you’re a character version of yourself with all the edges sanded down.