What do you feel when you see an old man sitting in a tram station on a rainy day?
And why don’t you sit right next to him?
Or what do you feel when you see, or perhaps just notice, the flock of birds hustling over a piece of bread. Did you know that you might get a fee for feeding them in front of Balti Jaam? 500€. Quite a lot of things are regulated in front of Balti Jaam by the way. It is filtered who and when can sit there, spend their time, take their time, stay and figure it out. How many forgotten gloves have you noticed laying on the asphalt? But how many of them were with whiskers? Tallinn is next to the seaside, but in the centre we can really be with the sea only in two places. Both of them are about 15 minutes away from here. My brother, who is 9 right now, forgot his hand-made doll at the bus station when he was around 5. He still moans it. It broke my heart. On a bigger scale: we will basically die the day after tomorrow. This gives us only a glimpse of time here and if we make this time worse for each other we are screwed too.
How and where we can see ourselves from a distance and understand we are just trespassers. Trespassers who happen to trespass this place all at the same time unit. How fast we set hierarchies and how prone we are to purely philosophise. I mean they are not actually strangers, maybe you should just say hello and it is already enough.
True melancholy with a slight smile. Wishing to belong, trying to desperately notice the moments when people forget that others are watching. Seeking an equivalent on the continuous asphalt for the partner’s morning coffee mug left on the table before running to wherever.
2022