What will remain of me, after I pass away? Nothing. Or just all those shreds, I left on the table in my room. Who will even look at them? There is nothing I did right to the... Well, yes, there is nothing I did right, what a bad point. There is a notesheet on my table. It is half-filled with something. Something stuck in my head. Something, I want to write down, but I never have time for this. Or I just think so. Since there is defenitely time for everything. There is a project on my github. There is…