Last week, for the first time in a long time, I cried. It was always drummed into me that crying was for girls, and that I would be seen to be weak if I happened to partake in that kind of water releasing activity. But last weekend, I found myself in quite a surreal situation where I was part of what can only be described as a wall of crying men – and I felt more manly then than I had ever done before.
About the author
Chris is an artist, writer and occasional jam maker. He is co-writing a philosophy cookbook as part of a preserve concocting double team known as Jammatology.…
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