He always walks confidently, his posture is impeccable, here’s a man with responsibilities, certainties and, most assuredly, predictable. That’s what he reveals in his appearance, behaviour, spotless shirt, and the elegant, discreet smile, but what really lies beneath?

When he opens the door to who he is, free of ties to work, free from all liability, he reveals the boy inside, still full of life, full of dreams, someone, who has a pact with poetry and freedom. He and his smile, with unobtrusive dimples that make everything about him more delicious to the observant eye!

When the sun begins to set, that moment of oranges and reds, his gaze turns to the city horizon, lost in its fiery beauty. He loves the sunset; in fact, he loves whatever nature offers. He sits on the edge of the Strait and merely watches. Silence is his companion, perhaps an image catches his attention. So slight and utterly oblivious to the rest, he clicks and captures that moment, making poetry with pixels, scenes and feeling.

No, he has no fears, no doubts. Challenges do appear, one here; another there, but he handles them, like everything else in life: meticulously, quietly, intensely. A man of apparent contradictions, but coherent in himself.

In days of intense struggle, where the lack of fresh air is stifling, and it feels as if he’s been caged, he goes in search of freedom. He dons his white helmet and turns his ride to where the sense of freedom breathes. He hangs glides from the highest mountains where the moon and star bathe in red (Turkey), walks the solitary roads through the valleys, seeks the hidden beaches where nobody goes… and there he can find his communion of peace.No matter, he’s got him in a communion of peace.

Can he love someone? Can he belong? No, he doesn’t belong but, indeed, he loves. He loves without limits, without justification, for no apparent reason. Loving someone who is like him, free, loving only for the pure act of love, without the commitment of reason.

Free again he’s on his way, no load to carry, no one else to hold him back. It’s just him. And when he returns, the feeling is of total peace. The peace of being alone, being who he is, because he has chosen just to let things happen, not to have to worry about anyone else’s opinion; only his own.

He is still a mystery to many. This mixture of boy and man, of certainty and freedom, is captivating. While the doubts that everyone faces are the same, the answers he finds are different. That makes him unique, in his unconventional way, he does not even pretend to be (fits in other expectation). Free in so many ways. A singular man; some would say, a real man. The man.

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