Living Courageously: a guide for the coward
When I was a kid goddamn I was scared of a lot of shit. I remember one of my best friends in primary school, Ronald[1], and I developed this fantasy that one day we would run away from home together. We were around 11 or 12 years old at the time. Being of a pragmatic nature and knowing that we would need to “live off the land” I advised Ronald that we should pack a lot of spices...
