Memories from unconventional travellers

This is a story about unconventional individuals. It might seem somewhat funny that a word whose root and etymology derive from "indivisible" ends with "dual". This reflects the very chaotic and uncertain nature of all things. The individuals depicted here often struggled to face, embrace, or accept their own duality.

This is a story about travels. One could ask which story is not, and that would be a very fair question. So let me rephrase: this is a story about unexpected travels. The kind where the destination is unknown, the outcome unpredictable, and the events uncertain.

It is also a story about flying away. Flying away deeper and further into the silky comfort of a blank yet doubtful future, which can only be better than the mistakes of the past.

Why do people start travelling? There are as many answers as there are individuals, if not twice as much. A dichotomy between the various reasons easily emerges, even though they often combine into a weird blend: necessity or desire, compassion or revenge, regrets or hope.

I often remember the story of my friend E. as he used to tell me, before he was driven away by his own obsessions.

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