Our lost focus why we became suffering from lack of attention

When my son was baptized at the age of nine, he developed an intense obsession, surprisingly brief, with Elvis Presley. He started singing "Jailhouse Rock" at the top of his lungs, trying to imitate the king's own voice inflections, and shaking his hips like him. He didn't realize that this style of singing had now become a joke; and that is what made him perform it with all the sincerity of a child not yet a teenager, believing that this made him look amazing. In the short pauses before singing the song again, he demanded to know everything about Elvis (everything! everything!), so I told him that silly, sad, exciting story. I told him: Elvis Presley was born in one of the poorest cities in Mississippi... a faraway place, very far. He came into this world with a twin brother who died minutes after birth. In his childhood, his mother told him that his brother could hear his voice if he sang to the moon every night, so he would sing and sing. He started performing his songs in front of an audience at the same time television was spreading, so he quickly became more famous than anyone before him. Wherever Elvis went, people yelled out of excitement, until his whole world was a roar. He withdrew into a cocoon he made himself, where he began to praise his possessions instead of praising his lost freedom. He bought his mother a palace called "Graceland."