The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr Morris Lessmore

Hello Again! This time I want to share something with you. This is a wonderful short film which I think has a lot of things in common with this blog. You MUST watch it! Hope you enjoy it!

I will tell you a story

I will tell you a story; in fact this is my story. Probably, you are not going to believe me. Well, I will tell you that it doesn’t matter whether you believe or not. Sorry, but I have no proof to show you this is true; that this really have happened to me. So, I hope you trust me just because of faith. I know it will be difficult, and soon you will understand why it’s going to be hard for you to believe me.

My name is Lorenzo. Nowadays I worked as a school teacher in the city, but that doesn’t matter. The important thing is my past. Where am I from? I am from a house in Buenos Aires. I was born there, in the house; a beautiful one; with a beautiful family inside. Everything was perfect, and I was such a happy boy those times. I played with my friend every day. We were inseparables. Well in fact he was more like a brother for me. We lived together in the same house. In fact it was his house, because I lived with him, with his family. The point is that his family didn’t know about me. They didn’t know I was there living with them in the same house. For them I didn’t exist. They didn’t even see me, or hear me.

At this point you may think I am crazy. Yes, I know that it could seem that way, but I am not. Let me try to explain you why this family couldn’t see me, except for my friend. Oh I forgot to tell you my friend’s name! His name was Leonardo. Leonardo was a special boy. I didn’t mean with this that he was sick or that he had a problem. He was special because of the way he behaved, the things he thought and liked, the way he talked…He was an extraordinary boy, and he was my friend. I loved him so much! And as I was saying he was special. He had this power of imagination. He could entered to a complete new world with his mind. He could imagine things that no other children could imagine, not even adults. And all his family was so worried about him. Yes, families tend to worry about things they shouldn’t be, and not worry about the things they should be. His family thought that he was strange; that he was not common; that he was “abnormal”. I asked myself what’s wrong with being different, with being strange. Why people want to be all the same? I loved my friend, and I loved the fact that he was different. Luckily, his grandma was very proud of him, and she encouraged him to imagine, to read, and to play with his mind. She was a good woman, and the only person who understood Leonardo.

But I was about to tell you why he was so special. Surprisingly, he created me. It’s hard to believe, I know, but it’s the true. I was made by him;  in particular by his mind. I had already said that he had this power, and that he could imagine amazing things. Well! He could imagine me, and his dream made true. I just appeared one morning in his bedroom, and he was there, sit on his bed, watching me, with his big blue eyes. ‘Are you Lorenzo,’ he asked me. I don’t know why but I knew exactly who I was and why I was there. I explained to him that I was his imaginary friend, that he had created me with his mind, and that I would exist till he no longer believed in me. In some weird way he understood everything perfectly, and he didn’t ask me anything.

When he created me Leonardo had seven years old, and he made me as a boy of his same age. For some years we were the best friends. We were together every single day, and we spent our time doing marvelous things. We shared everything and we loved each other. Of course that Leo had a life and he had to go to school and to spend time with his family, but in general I went with him to everywhere (nobody but him could see me). Sadly, there were some problems with his family because sometimes they watched him talking on his own and they thought that he was crazy (crazier than they had thought before). And the other big problem for Leo was that he had no real friend. He could not make any friend at school, or in the neighborhood, and his sister loved him but she didn’t know how to interact with him, since they were very different. So, his family was preoccupied for him because of that too. The only person who was not worried was her granny. She was a special person like him. And she didn’t worry about him because she knew that Leo was a happy boy. Despite everything she was able to feel the happiness of her grandson.

As the relation with her grandma was very special, and they understood each other, Leo decided to talk with her about me. ‘You’re completely out of mind,’ I’ve told him. ‘You can’t expect she’s going to believe you. She is a good woman Leo but she won’t believe the fact that I exist.’ Leo was so sure about telling her grandma about me. Nothing of what I said to him could change his mind. I was afraid of what would happen. I considered many possibilities of the actions his grandma could take when she knew about me. However, it had no sense to think about that. I had to wait, and I could do nothing to change the fact that Leo would talk to his grandma.

Unexpectedly, her grandma believed him. I was there when he was talking to her about me, and she seemed to believe him. It’s true that maybe she lied to him, and that she could understand that he thought he had an imaginary friend who was real, or that she didn’t want to hurt Leo, since she was the only person in the family who understood him. However, I don’t know why but in that moment when I was watching at her face I can tell you that she actually believed what Leo told her; that she believed that Leo had created me;  and that for him I existed. I even thought in one moment that she could watch me. I could feel his eyes in my eyes. I can’t explain why but in some inexplicable way I may say that she was able to sense me, as Leo could.

After Leo’s birthday number twelve he started to worry about me and our relation. He knew that I would disappear if he stopped believing in me. He was now twelve years old and he had new responsibilities: a new school because he had to start the high school; a lot to study; and a new social life with real people. He realized that he was changing; that he was not anymore a little kid; and that sooner or later he would stop believing in me. He was sad because of that, and I noticed it. I tried many times to talk about this with him, and to try to explain him that it was okay the fact that someday I would disappear. I understood my destiny. It was my nature. However, he couldn’t understand and he couldn’t deal with the idea of losing me, and in a way to feel guilty about that. Because he would feel like that if I disappeared; it would be his fault. And I think that he didn’t want to forget me and every memory of me during those years. He knew that if I died, his memories of me would die as well.  

Well…here comes the sad moment of the story, at least for me. One day I saw Leo particularly worry. He didn’t want to talk with me. He seemed so sad, and I tried to ask him what was going on many times, but he didn’t answer. He didn’t answer any of my questions. I felt bad too, because I didn’t know what to do, and I started to think that maybe Leo wanted to forget me; that maybe he even had started to forget me. Of course I knew that the day would arrive, but it’s like death for humans, even when they all know that they are going to die, they are afraid of it. So yes, I was afraid of dying, and I didn’t want to leave the world, to leave Leo. And I didn’t have the possibility of believing in God, or Heaven, because I was just an imaginary friend. I had to accept my death and it was hard.

By the end of that terrible day I was in Leo’s bedroom and he was there too. We didn’t talk. He was on his bed and I was sat on a chair. We were both sad. He stood up and came to the window, and then he looked at the sky. He was there for a long time. I stared at him. Then I heard him cry and then I came close to him. ‘What’s up Leo? Please answer me.’ He didn’t say anything; he just turned around and gave me a hug. We were embraced for a long time, and we both cried.

The things that happened the next day are difficult to narrate, mainly because I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to remember that day. It was the worst day of my life. The day before, after the huge with Leo, I went to sleep and I was sure that I wouldn’t wake up anymore. The thing is that I woke up, and when I woke I was on Leo’s bed, but he was not there. I upset and started to search him, but he wasn’t anywhere in the bedroom. When I was about to stand up, Leo’s mum entered into the room, turned on the light, and looked at me. ‘Come on honey! It’s time to go to school. I left your breakfast in the kitchen.’ Then she kissed me on my forehead and left.  

I was shocked for a time. I didn’t understand the situation. I couldn’t believe Leo’s mother could see me, and treat me as his son. I couldn’t find any reasonable explanation for that. I didn’t move; I just stayed on the bed. Leo’s mother came back and asked me if I was alright, and I couldn’t answer. She worried about me and asked me again. With much effort I said to her that I didn’t feel very well and that I would prefer not going to the school. She accepted that but said that she would call a doctor. I just nodded. That day I couldn’t understand anything, and I don’t remember very much of what happened.

The time passed and I seemed to be Leo. He didn’t appear again, never again. I had to get used to my new life, and it was very hard for me. I missed Leo very much, and I didn’t understand what had happened. However there was one person in Leo’s family who knew something about this. As you can imagine that person was Leo’s grandma. She seemed to know that I was not Leo, and she seemed to remember the real Leo. One day his grandma saw that I was very sad and she said that I should not feel guilty for him, and that it was his decision. I didn’t know what she referred by using the words “him” and “his”. Probably she referred to Leo, but I couldn’t understand how she could know about what had happened, and when I tried to ask her she just feign misunderstanding. So I couldn’t find an explanation and I didn’t understand anything.

I didn’t understand anything till one day I found a letter under the mattress of Leo’s bed…

Dear Friend,

                                 I don’t want to lose you. You are and were very important for me. I don’t want to forget you but I know that I will stop believing in you, and I can’t do anything to avoid that. But at least I can try to change this.

                                This night, while I was looking at the sky, I made a wish. I wished you transformed into a real boy, even if I have to give you my life.

                                 I don’t know if this is going to happen or not, but maybe it is. If I could create you, maybe I can transform you. I believed in the power of imagination yet.

                                 I’ve decided to write this letter in case you transform into a real boy and I die. If that happens please don’t feel sad about me, because this is what I want, and this is my decision.

                                   Well my good friend that’s all. Remember that we are going to be friends forever, doesn’t matter what happens.

                                   I love you. Good bye.   

                                               Leo.

About Yesterday. An opinion.

On Friday, I had (yes, HAD) to go with my mother and my little sister to the free concert of a very known teenager girl here in Argentina.  Because it was free, there was too too tooo many people, mostly parents and their screaming girls. I felt kind of reluctant to this show since it was organized by our local government, but still, if it made my sister happy, I could accept it.

There were a lot of missing children, a lot of screaming, a lot of rubbish on the grass and a lot of insults from EVERYWHERE. Yes, insults.  On the way to and on the way back from the gig, I heard a lot of people saying horrible things to the little girls for liking, dressing, and singing like their idol. Adult people! Well, “adult”. I know that it was a special holiday, and the streets were a jungle, but they always are. Why was yesterday so different from any other day? And then realized: It is always like this. Everybody has an opinion, but lately, lot of people express without thinking it twice.  Just because something has bothered them, the necessity to complain out loud appears.  I mean that it is okay, you need and should express yourself, but the way you do it, should be something to consider before opening your mouth.  In this nowadays world, we are always running, preoccupied, worried, and unhappy. Well, not all of us, but my point is that this concert was a good thing. I saw lot of families that belonged to a low class position enjoying the show. Maybe those people will never have the opportunity to buy the tickets for a private show in a real theatre. But they could on Friday. I know that there are hundreds, millions of problems out there, but children having a good time, shouldn´t be one. 

Books

Well, I am boring and I want to write about something...Probably the result will be awful, but nobody has to read this, so I can write something and I am not going to hurt anybody.

Asking myself about what to write I was looking at the blog and the wallpaper, so I started to think about this library full of books, full of ideas, full of thoughts, full of people who is behind those books (books in general). And so I asked to myself: why have we decided to put that wallpaper? Of course I know that the pleasure of reading is something that characterizes my friend and I, but then I think that if we have decided to use that wallpaper, we should explain our decision to our readers (if we have any at any time). 

Yes! We love reading, we love books, we share them, we speak about them, we fight because of them. Sometimes we like the same books, sometimes we don't. The importance of this is that we have something to share, and this thing that we have is so amazing, so passionate, so wonderful! And I would like to transmit this to every single human being on this planet, because we all deserve to develop our pleasure of reading, we all deserve the possibility of having a lot of books. Books are wonderful (okey, not every book, there are awful and terrible books, but I think that I prefer someone reading a stupid book than watching a stupid programme on TV), and they can show you a complete new universe of ideas. By reading you are activating your brain, your imagination, and you can escape from this world (at least for a while). You can dream! Such an important thing is having the oportunity to dream! I think that dreaming is the possibility of making true a lot of things that you can't in the real world. And in this unjust world where most of us can't make a lot of things that we want, we can find in a book those things that we can't do in the real wolrd(just think of traveling abroad; there are lot of people that can't do this because of economical difficulties, but you can travel through a book, not in the same way, but at least in some way...).

Sadly, in this world there are people who can't even dream with the possibility of dreaming. Lots of people haven't access to a book, and there are people who even don't know how to read!!! Yes, in the twenty-first century there are people who are illiterate, that's so sad! And there are a lot of people who know how to read, who have access to buying a book and they don't read. Well! Probably much of that people didn't have someone who has transmited to them the pleasure of reading (in my case, I have to thank my eldest brother and sister, and my granny), or I have to admit that we are different, and that it's okey if some of us like to read, as well as some of us don't like (and I have to be honest with myself and say that I could read much more than I actually read).

The idea is that if you have the opportunity to read, you shouldn't throw away that opportunity. Just think that there are a lot of people who don't even have the possibility. 

Causes of Ugly Crying

  Some time ago, I found a webpage called GoodReads.  How did I find it? Well, because I was in a book hangover, and needed a new book to “start” again.  This page has hundreds and hundreds of book reviews made by readers. So you just need to write the title of the story you want to read, and see what others have said about it. It is kind of tricky, since we all not think the same , we don´t like or love the same things, and maybe a book that you would enjoy has horrible reviews.  I didn´t know what I wanted to read, and decided to go to the Lists section and dick around. “Best Books Ever”,  “Books That Should Be Made Into Movies”,  “The BOOK was BETTER than the MOVIE”,  “Couldn't Put The Book Down”,  “YA Novels of 2011” , etc, etc, until I found “Causes of Ugly Crying”. That last was…interesting.  There was a book that even saying its name makes me want to cry: The Fault in Our Stars.  I knoooow, it is well known for being in a young adult category and because lots of girls have read it (things that “good readers” frown at).  But here is when I I draw my imaginary sword and defend this book.

Yes, I don´t like its author (John Green) and yes, it already has a movie, which will be released in July, but the story is a cause of ugly crying, and I really really like those type of books. Hazel is a sixteen years old girl trying to live as normal as possible with an “air machine” that helps her breath since she has lung cancer. Hundreds of worlds later, she meets a boy who has just been operated and his cancer seems to be gone for good. It might sound cliché, well, it is! But still, there´s a lot more. What I like about this story is how both characters connect. Connect? Like Wi-Fi? No, like only friends can.   As I started to read it, I couldn´t erase the smile on my face. Hazel and Augustus (the boy) have the most hilarious conversations. They laugh still knowing that their life were shitty, knowing that Augustus is not completely cured, knowing that maybe the next day one of them wouldn´t have a day to mark on the calendar.  Hazel´s favourite book ends in the middle of a sentence. Picture that! You would find and force the author to tell you the end.  And they did so, kind of.  Hazel and Augustus go to Amsterdam to try to get the end of the book from the very author´s mouth.  The author is a person with a ruined life, so he is such an ass to everyone who dares to talk to him. They travel half the world and can´t get the missing end that is driving both crazy.  Hundreds of words later, Augustus´ cancer is back and well…causes for ugly crying happen.

I won´t tell you how this book ends, you can go and find it by yourself. But to make a point, that list on GoodRead is quite accurate.                                          

selfish selfies?

- Hey cam, you don't like me and I don't like you, but we have to make this in the best way. So please! Take me the best photo ever! I have to look beautiful, cool, sexy, hot...you know why? Because I'll post the pic on every single social network I am...and you know, I must have a lot of likes and comments about my pic, about the beautiful I am, about the well I look...and YOU, mirror! You have to behave in a good way, you can make me look slim or fat, cute or ugly, clean or dirty. So please, help me! At least this time, because you never help me to look good. So, are you ready, my good friends? Are you going to do a good work with me? Okey, mirror clean, cam on...hands stop shaking, cause I need a straight picture...Okey, that's it, good, smile on, eyes open, hair combed, tummy in, trimmed clothing...3..2..1..flash!

Well, was it funny? Did you feel identified with this "story"? I am not going to judge anybody for this kind of photos, the so-called "selfies", but I think that it is an interesting phenomenon to speak about. It's okey if people want to take photos about themselves, even when they are alone, but it's just that we seem to be so worry about the way we look, and it seems that we are in a kind of competition about who has the best photo on facebook or instangram (or any other social networks), and we are worry about that, about such a superficial thing, because in fact a photo just shows our body, and not who or what we really are. 

We want other people to like us, other people to comment about us, other people to look at us, and we are the center of the universe, or at least that's what we want/think. We want to be known, to be famous, the more likes we get, the more happy we get, and this is something that in general we cannot escape. As any other social fact, this phenomenon is imposed on us and we act as zombies: all of us take photos of ourselves, and all of us posted photos on many social networks, and all of us are expected other people to like or comment our photos (of course "all of us" is just a way to express the idea, there are many people who don't belong to that group).

But stop! I should be speaking about the famous selfies and I think I beat around the bash. Why selfish selfies? First, it sounded funny, and second I think we are a bit selfish when we take a selfie. We are thinking about ourselves and not about others, of course this has to do with the society in general. Nowadays we live in a selfish society, people who think just about themselves, who don't worry about others, just their problems, just their lifes, inside of their secure private property, never putting themselves in someonelse's shoes...But well, it's not our fault! We live in this society (capitalist, consumerist, wicked, unjust...), and who we are depends on the ideas, values, beliefs, manners, that are floating in our society. However, we can develop an awareness about this and be better persons (aw! I know sometimes I can be such an idealist dreamer, or better say, such an idiot).

...

Once upon a time and on a bed, I was sick. I was young enough to not worry about the missing classes and homework. So I spent those ill days watching a movie about a little wizard. He had two best friends: a poor ginger boy and a way-too-clever girl. She was always trying to be the adult, and telling the boys to behave. But she was also dying inside to be a child and to not to worry too much. Undeniably, she needed to sort out her priorities. At least, that was the line the ginger boy told her in the movie.

So when the idea came to us, to hit some buttons and create a blog, we needed a name for it. Something special, something funny and clever, something about us. And the lamp over my friend´s head lit up and he said the very same line.

Maybe we need to sort out our priorities as well, that´s why we are starting this blog. To try to express better in a language that is not our mother tongue, to try to sort out our priorities... in a foreign language.

Wellcome!

Hey! Why this blog? It's a funny and long story...Once upon a time...Okey no! It's not a funny story; this blog doesn't have even a story. This is a creation of my friend and I. Why? Because we were boring and we needed something to do; to spent our valuable time in a foolish thing like this. And also because we need to practise our ability to write (yes! I am not a good writer, and I imagine you've already noticed that. My friend is better than me and you will notice that too). Okey, in general that's what motivated us to create this blog. Hope you enjoy it! (in some inexplicable way).