Stories and News No. 908
Only five days after the death of Dalton Prager, the twenty-five man with cystic fibrosis whose story resembled John Green’s book, which was made into a hit film, wife Katie, 26, passed away because of the same disease.
Fault in Our Stars…
Fault in Our Stars.
Yes, that’s it.
There it is the line where we all walk.
Between an amazing story and the normal, everyday lives.
Between an exciting film and bare ground.
Between a dream or nightmare, both memorable, and subsequent awakening.
One to remember absolutely or discard instantly as a bad selfie, just now required by the loved one.
Nevertheless, we walk, we often run and just as often we fall.
Anyway, on the height of the jump, rather than lying on the ground, a significant portion or even the whole of our bravest pupil points there.
Towards the brightest area of the sky.
Because that is where we would like to see us at that moment.
Because that is where we are, when we cannot do otherwise.
Because they say that outside is not all heaven.
Well, down there it's even worse.
Nevertheless - here is the wonder of wonders, this does not mean that the story is not worthy of the book page, such as the big screen.
The problem is all in the chair, never in the quality of the show.
Think about it, because after all this is what the public for special occasions wants more.
A wide and soft backrest, equally pampered seat and a not too distant vision from the adored scene.
Powerful lights on the latter and perfect resolution are trivial, because once the viewer is really comfortable you are halfway there.
From the privileged position of those who pull the strings of the folktale you can put on everything.
Oscar Wilde’s “Better being talked about than not being talked about”? No, better many to watch, than nobody.
Blame the stars, or all of us for that.
At the same time, however, without having to raise your heads, possibly moving a few centimeters to the right or left, even remaining in the exact spot where you are, you may witness the miracle.
The stories, or the films, which are staged without stories and films.
Reality that does not beat imagination: it doubles the latter with ridiculous ease.
Fault in our stars, if sometimes we miss such extraordinary gifts as negligible gusts.
But for someone they are everything.
As two fragments of the same love they have only five days of autonomy from each other.
Because to them they are something more important than earth, sky, and even stars.
Thanks to life…
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