When you compare yourself with someone, know that someone compares himself with you ...
When you compare yourself with someone, know that someone compares himself with you.
***
The third is decreh. It is designed for all to a penny, until half an hour, up to several meters. How much money the 11th day of each month, what time does the husband come, how many meters to go to the kindergarten. She tries not to remember what happens differently, only occasionally in his soul pulls a sad sense, as if she missed life. How many countries are not seen and hardly it will be, how many victories are not riched with champagne, how interesting is not done and is unknown, when it becomes how many nameless vertices are standing without her flag, and after all she filed hopes, by the way. Favorite, how at work? Son, what is interesting school? Docha, see what I tied to you today. On the borsch cooker, in the oven, quarreling, in the head fog. The whole success in the evening is melting: the dirt will be filled with the floor in the hallway, the house will be made from the shrinking bed, the toys with a colorful carpet will fall on the floor, the lessons are not made again, life flows. And where to? Where would it be if there would be a little more money than a square meter of one month?
***
"Again, these faces, my God, every time you are tired. I didn't choose them at all, but I have to", "she thinks during the meeting, surrounding decent people with festees and good perspectives. The schedule of the day is close as new shoes. They twitch, dogs, all the time twitch with questionings, even though she asked through the assistant to contact. Hello-hello, be kind, thank you before the meeting. In the head all day about work, about work, about work. And in the back of a huge, sticky, as if wet sheets, thoughts about a small tiny boy. About the sweet smell of his hair, about trusting "moms, moms, are you?", About thin and soft fingers, which lie on her shoulder before bedtime. In the broadcast from the camera it is clear that he now plays in the designer, in a wonderful expensive designer from the new collection, and nanny, a good woman with a high price tag for his services, knowledge of two languages, the highest pedagogical and angelic patience, sits on the side, nods, gives him Blue details. Why blue? It is necessary to say her ... Well, however, it's time for the conference. "Someday there will be time so that we first read, Lepii, walked, cooked, this time will be enough for us, and every hour will be big as a three-liter bank. I need to pour so much in it, because I'm talking about you, my sweet , I do not know. Like about children as a whole, as well as yourself. To whom the hour I work today? I would know. I hope you put sleeping ... "
***
The windshield sticks out the copper coin of the moon, in the box of the TV - a smart film, in the cranial box - empty, skinny thoughts. You will not think of anything new: everything was already. It remains only one thing - sucking, annoying. Author's vision, Kutsy Kostl. Free artist! So beautiful that even tired. So empty that go crazy. "There is no idea that would be more than me," she reflects, lying on the creaky bed of a removable apartment in a journey, which lasts for several years now: she is all looking for meaning, changes cities, changes himself. In the morning you need to live: not fat, read, walk. "As soon as I wake up, it seems to me that I am a goddess, and closer to noon - that dried figs." It would be possible to harbor the coin from boring merchants with faded divids, sending them through the whole world the result in the convective with the surname and the address ending to the dog-jimiel. In the evening - to create. At first it seems that something interesting is obtained. Then - cosmic, adult and more of her. And after it is found that it is a complete beamlessness, dull householdist, and she herself seems to be the same unnecessary. "In the booster and charlotte, more meaning," she grumbling.
Sometimes something will flash, it will be put out somewhere, you will write, maybe even someone will buy and again there will be money to change the cities outside the windows, unraveling the gray tangle of roads, look for something exempted, meaningful, good. Well, while ... neither equipped life, nor big ideas, no big money, no love, no sense, nothing. For meaning, by the way, somehow it is especially offended.
In all our lives, there are many roads, but at one particular moment we can go, go, fly, ride only on one road, others remain aside. It happens that longing the longing does not go anywhere: we miss those people who would be by choosing another path. But on each way there are their joys, events, discoveries, dating, states, they have their own value. The value of different periods, different options for their lives, it is not worth comparing - there will always be a feeling that "somewhere better." You need to live what we have. Message melodies, taste, smells, words. Because it is life, in the end, this route. We can be sad on missed opportunities, but this is not a reason to carefully treat our experience, sensations, dance. Everything matters.