multitude

Forgive me Father

for I have sinned.

I have sinned of straight lines and flat roofs.
I have sinned of strip win­dows and free plan.
I have sinned of tak­ing this dis­ci­pline far too seri­ously, when every­one else around me just isn’t.

I have sinned of spend­ing the night at the office, of stay­ing in front of a screen for weeks,
of not speak­ing to any­body. I have sinned because I had a com­pli­cate rela­tion­ship with a layer in Photoshop.

I have sinned of think­ing the sal­va­tion of this world relies on our mice, on our shared fold­ers and 3D mod­els. I thought the key to suc­cess was some­where in the server.
I have sinned because I gave up on my civil rights for the sake of design think­ing that, one day, it will pay back, with cred­its.

I have sinned of miss­ing the oppor­tu­nity of liv­ing, because I had to find the right gra­di­ent between two hatches. Their trans­parency was also one of my con­cerns.
I have sinned of grant­ing author­ity to self appointed prophets of the idea, of believ­ing they were smart, when all they did was fill­ing the room with their voice.

I have sinned because I failed of rec­og­niz­ing I was part of a show busi­ness.
I have sinned of being polite, of keep­ing my thoughts for myself because it was rude to disagree.

I have sinned of choos­ing to learn a soft­ware rather then an instrument.

And finally, I have sinned of think­ing I wasn’t good enough.

I firmly intend, Father, to sin no more and to avoid what­ever leads me to sin.. I think I have some­time next week­end to do my penance.

What will it be, Father?
Father, are you still there?
Father?