We, the window managees 
2023-02-03

Another sweaty morning. Must be the caffeine. Your pores have been
working overtime and the mattress smells like burnt caramel. No
matter. You put the kettle on boil and suddenly it hits you. The
loose cupboard door you've been meaning to fix for the past 17
months finally gives out and goes into the much anticipated free-fall.
Yes, your head is indeed in the way. You'd think you'd be used to
pain by now, alas, the door knocks you out cold, breaks the glass
coffee jar and scratches the kitchen counter. You lie there on the
cold tile floor, covered in instant coffee.  The door merrily rests
nearby. In your defeated state a vision appears!

The darkness behind your eyes forms a familiar face. You can't quite
place it, but you know it's one of the good daemons. It speaks in
a calm, but pedantic tone. You are told that you've wasted your
time long enough. Desktop environments have been dominating the
land for far too long. The daemon crowns you the new prophet of
window managers, after telling you the sad fate that has befallen
the previous one. (He died when parachuting. Turns out he was quite
the adrenaline freak and didn't take his quest for window manager
supremacy seriously.) The face tells you it is now your time to go
out into the world and preach the good word of digital minimalism
and efficient workflow. You feel like asking for some notes on where
to start, but you can't speak, you remember you're knocked out.
And then, just like that, the face disappears and the all too
familiar shabby kitchen comes into view.

There is no time to investigate the damages the cupboard door caused.
You can always blame it on the previous tenant.  It worked out for
the broken sink. You check the clock, turns out you've been out for
several hours. Good thing you don't have to go to work, you were
fired 3 months ago. But it is apparent this newly found purpose in
your life requires all your attention. Where to start?

You remember a girl with a computer at the bar you frequent every
other day. Mostly because you don't want to appear like an alcoholic.
But you know she won't get it. She likes her google docs, x's,
squares and _'s at the top of her windows as she furiosly clicks
on the panel at the bottom, going from one proprietary software to
another.  Nothing to do. Maybe the younger generation will be a
better start to your mission. You try the immigrants' kid from
downstairs, playing soccer with your window. You begin your initial
inqueries. Turns out he doesn't know what windows are. He knows
what Windows is, but his question on whether he could play some
shitty slot machine disguised as a shooter game makes you question
your decision. You leave the kid on a mission of his own to annoy
most people in the building and head out into the city. You do not
despair. There is a two day Linux convention happening at the
university. You had no reason to go before, but now you understand
the turn of events. No such thing as chance. Perhaps you've taken
your new role too inconsiderately. You remember every good prophet
needs his apostles. What better place than a Linux convention could
there be to find your followers before converting the blasphemous
desktop-manager-heretics!

There, a feller on his vintage thinkpad, surely he will be the one.
Looking over his shoulder you can see he's running i3 and 7 alacrity
terminal emulators with htop and netstat, playing minetest in a
tiny window at the lower right corner. Finally! Now is your time
to shine!

...

Exhausted, you return home. Wash the smut off your face and get
your bearings back.  Who would've thought the youngling hacker would
have no interest in your quest. Frankly, you're surprised you even
got to say a few sentences. The rest of the conversation, which
lasted for 4 hours, was about his stupid 12 year old computer,
custom built from imported parts from Japan, with a liberated BIOS
and a matte screen.  Cool, but that didn't interest you in the
slightest. It may have the day before, but you were no common
retro-machine enthusiast.  Of course when you mentioned your mission,
he laughed you off. He already belonged to a different kind of a
cult which takes pride in being different. "What good would it do
to us, if everyone ran a window manager?!" What good, the fool.

You think on the daemon and wonder, if there's a special room in
hell for failed prophets. Maybe you'll try again tomorrow, but
probably not, you feel like you gave it your best. Tomorrow is your
bar-night anyway and the girl just might be there again.