But, of course, everyone has an opinion. I liked it...

Even if you are thinking it's just a weird letter, you will see it is not so:

"One of our members thought about a plan that we, all Keanu Reeves fans, can carry into effect.

She wrote a letter for Keanu, a letter from all his fans. Through this letter we want to show our gratitude for all he represent as an actor and as a human being. We know there are fan groups all over the world, websites dedicated to him that post photos, news and articles. We know that we pray for him everytime we see a a photo in which he seams a little bit tired or sad. Let’s say it at loud. We want him to know that we exist, that we understand his joys and sadness, that we don’t see him only like a beautiful and talented actor, but as a remarkable human being too.

You will understand better our goal by reading the letter.

What we want to ask you is to distribute this letter all over the internet, all over the world. That’s why we translated it in English and Spanish too. Are you German/ French/ Italian etc and you like the letter? Translate it and post it on the internet. Our only wish is to mention the source where you find it ( www.keanumania.com). See this as a domino game.

So, are you willing to enter this plan or not?"

LETTER TO KEANU

You have never felt the tinted windows so sheer, the eyes so lowered and the headache so intense. You start wondering how long do you have to the hotel. Finally, you get there. The streets almost deserted, ringing in the distance and some lost fans. All you want to do is to pass by them or to shout you are just a normal human being. Not one as they think you are, but a normal, ordinary man, with both joys and sorrows.

In a split second you remember. So you try to banish the fatigue, you get off your glasses and you start smiling. Once you do that, their faces are strangely brightening. So you choose to stay, to endure the annoying flashes, to give autographs and to answer all their questions. You see their glow in the eyes, their youth or enthusiasm and you start cheering up. Once again you do not understand why. Why you. When the tiredness is coming back, you gently apologize and disappear behind the sliding doors of the hotel.

All you need right now is a salvation. You have worked all day long, giving life to a different character whose parts are still in you.You have talked to so many people trying to make sure everything will be ok this time too. But now, when this stubborn elevator does not want to go down, you feel like you could slam on this fancy lobby and ask for your ration of sleep. This thought steals you a smile. When the elevator is finally there, you get in, lean against a wall and start answering the last questions of the day. You cannot think about something else but of your seconds of tranquility. That’s all.

Suddenly you hear the noise of the door closing behind you. Finally alone. You close your eyes and listen to the silence. You make some steps up to the bed, leave the heavy coat and then step on the tiny balcony of your apartment. That cold air, the overwhelming darkness have never been more gentle than tonight. Different houses, different people on a different corner of the world. You do not remember its name. It doesn’t really matter. Tonight you belong this place and it belongs to you.

From there, from the 11th floor of the hotel you are still hearing the directing tips and the voices of the teenagers that earlier snatched you an autograph together with a smile..

Yet, the sadness lurks around the corner. A hybrid sadness that never turns you to depression, but only to melancholy. Once in a while God reminds you are just a human being. A special, chosen one, but yet a human being. You feel like something is missing. You turn around. No one. For some seconds you think you would have wanted to find someone there, behind or next to you. You start seeing images from the past that was or from the present it could have been. You are again on the edge of your soul.

And just when you are about to surrender, in an involuntary, yet fated gesture, you put your hand in the pocket. There is something there. In the next second you hold in the palm a small icon of a secret saint and a message: “We love you, Keanu!”. The gift is from them…You look in the distance where your eyes cannot reach. You indulge yourself in the wind brought by your little gift. The cold air sets on your tiny, fine wrinkles, finding out their secrets. Then, it soothes each of them, saying good bye and promising to return.

You look again at that message..their message..of those who you do not know and maybe you will never do. For some unknown reasons you were chosen to give them inspiration, kindness or hope and they were chosen to turn their prayers to you. Once, in the past, maybe you were used to think people is overreacting or that they should have their own life.

Only when you return to your room and you let yourself fall on the bed, you realize you were wrong about the fans. You realize that from them you get your optimism and the strength to move on. You know you will get their gift and remember their words whenever you will feel again on the edge of your soul.

The balcony door closes and your eyelids surrender. You fall asleep with your thoughts scattered in so many places, but with so many thoughts directed toward you.