Road to sky

    You know this feeling of kindness when you go somewhere, and it’s so warm, comfortable, light, the music plays well, and thoughts are far away, I don’t want to stop, go out ... And you are driven, driven through kilometers by these tremendous pieces of iron, in which the energy of millennials boils hydrocarbons delivered from afar, even farther than you go, are driven past people who are in a hurry or not really somewhere , past houses, large and not, other cars, fast and not too, and it seems as though with every turn people are more beautiful, cleaner at home, and cars quieter and more obedient, as if where you de and void should come out, absolutely no malice, no debris, smoke, like you've been there awaits a green alley, where children play, laugh their mischief fat-sellerice cream, and a shy girl with a stroller dreamily glances at them, then at her baby, then at her spouse, enthusiastically telling a colleague something on the phone. And behind the alley you can see a tall hulk of glass and concrete, where in the spacious office, bathed in the morning sun, the secretary smiles warmly and reminds you of the deadlines for the project, and you breathe in the trail of aromatic coffee in the transparent freshness of the familiar atmosphere, grin at your forethought and proceed to the last revision, as always leaving mail, lists of news and updates of your favorites, social networks, instant messengers and other small things for lunch - nothing, wait, everything will be in time ...

    What really happens - you know, of course, this happens almost every day. And so you try to choose a place, if not at the wheel, then at least by the window, by the porthole, by the portal into the world, to see how colorful pictures replace each other, almost continuously, almost independently of you, pleasant and not too familiar or not bright and not very, but always with their relentless run reminding that the world will not be the same as yesterday, like half an hour ago, like a minute, it will never be the same as in the last moment. Let a little bit, a bit, a little, but another, a millimeter closer to a clean alley and vacation in Europe on an electric car, a centimeter closer to a full-fledged, verified project and a genuinely friendly secretary, a meter closer to fresh air and real coffee, and maybe , I really want to believe, even closer to her. To her!

    And you planted in blissful reverie on autopilot step up to their usual place, pour his usual coffee in an old mug, start your usual job something in the editor, write, someone in the office to answer, somewhere flipping the net ... But the feeling does not disappear inside: something is wrong. Not like everything around, what I got used to, harnessed, without which it would be empty. “Not empty, but free!”, - hints at it from the inside. - "What's next? Yes, you know in great detail what’s next, you fool. How? But you yourself must understand this, otherwise nothing will come of it. Himself. "

    And you stupidly look at your good monitor, you want in, and you look at. And everything seems to be as always, and the Conder is buzzing, and the clavs are knocking, and the mats from the construction site are heard. But then the brain finally finishes the search with addiction and gives an assumption. At  someone’s birthday, you saw a printout on the door, among stickers and default photos, read the phrase, but then they dragged you to a new toast ...

    To have something you never had, do what you never did.

    And you look at your code, or at your text, or at your layout, and you start to boil. You get angry. You begin to understand. You close your eyes, sigh, open, and begin to remove. Carefully select and wash. Then you just as calmly close suddenly unnecessary windows, unnecessary tabs, refuse fresh lulz in the monitors of colleagues. After a second, you defeat the desire to press Undo, another second - and already google the details of the very methodology that the boring teacher in gray hair told about. The one that should be used from the very beginning, which is now clear as a day. You read a little more about her, and more, and bam! Light up the excitement, that's how everything can be, harmoniously, okay, clearly! And they would go with their gags! All you can not stop.

    Do not stop if you do not feel sorry for yourself, if you stand the gap of the template, if you defeat the routine, if you believe and understand that even that staircase, the top of which is hidden behind the clouds, consists of small steps.

    And then with every line, with every commit, with every build you will be closer to the dream.

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