For he is a walking contradiction, a modern aboriginal. Blue eyes of cloudless skies, but foggy, cold, distant thoughts. For he takes out his shoes to run in the forest, but wears multinational brand clothes. For he lives apart from the old pattern world, but works unstoppable in a Mac Airbook. For he’s a yogi, for he doesn’t smoke or drinks coffee - it’s poison!, but can’t put apart a joint after the morning meditation.
For he fears not free love, but he fears love itself. He fears love. He’s afraid of love, and friendship, and everything that may make him feel he exists inside the others, beyond himself. Everything that may make him feel that behind those blue eyes there is a heart. It is, but so closed up in itself and so callous as the cliffs that overhang to the rebellious waves of the ocean. For he is so full of secrets as the beaches of Alentejo that hide shipwrecks and occult caves with crabs.
For he fears love, but he keeps on searching it every night in different arms. He could search no more, but he keeps on his quest. For he fears love. Ah, blue eyes, modern aboriginal. Keep on running up the hills, barefooted, but take me with you by the hand, open up yourself to the knowing of having me inside of you, and yourself inside of me. With fears, for sure, accept them as part of me, as part of us. You are running scared of the fears of the others. Yes, you’re running scared. But what about your own fears? How do you cope with them? You turn off yourself in transcendental meditations, oriental buddhisms and sexual mantras.
And could you ever find yourself?
Ah, aboriginal eyes, modern blue.
