Ria, are you ok?

actually afraid of is leaving their comfort zone, in the one they aren't supposed to pick up hitchhikers. And in a cou

nto the car and fasten her seat belt, all in one swift uninterrupted mov

rolled-down window frame. "But thanks for

And your hair... Your hair looks nice by the way, " I said,

c?" she asked abruptly,

rowning my words, making them inaudible. I waited for it to go away and

the rear-view mirror. I followed her gaze and felt a needle-like pain in my hear

-

to, but as much as I tried to imagine myself being social, going to parties, and f

rders or working for someone. I needed to do things my way even if that meant becoming a social outcast and breaking a few rules. D

t my Open Water Scuba Instructor certificate. I learned how to sail, how to parachute and how to survive in the wild. I taught myself about drilling techniques and how to crack open safes. I learned about off-road driving and how to work magic with computers, but the main turning p

ound like a lot, but it was the most intense time of my life. Truth be told, it was not as fun as I thought it would be. Ninety-five percent of my time and energy wen

s, mostly on the dark web and some obscure IRC channels. Then I usually had to make some phone calls to acquire as much information a

a trip to the library, newspaper archives, universi

ut where the treasure was and how I coul

h for a foreign university. Other times I would book a nice hotel, dress up nicely, speak slowly and impersonate a millionaire's daughter, representing my father's interests and looking for some investment opportunities in th

nt me access to where the treasure was. This was the most relaxing part for me, as it involv

pproach was different. I needed to meet the sponsor face to face, so they could see what I was doing and that I was the real deal. I needed them to look into my eyes, feel my passion, and I couldn't do that over emails. I would cold-call top e