thinking my own bird fairest
What I love about my city is the charming air of randomness it exudes, – thought I today, staring at a graffiti in a trolleybus, which read SHOE. In white block letters, stacked in a column.
There is a district in Vilnius that has declared itself an independent state. It has a President, a Constitution (read it on their website, it’s pure genius), an Independence Day (April Fools), even a radio.
There is a festival of one-minute-long films, held annually. 99 best features are compiled into a set and shown in movie theaters. I’ve never been – the tickets are always sold out way before the premiere.
There is a beggar lady who they say comes to town every morning and asks everyone very politely for change, until she collects enough for a cup of coffee, a cake, and the bus fare home.
There is a seventy-percent student discount for opera tickets an hour before the show. (We will go snatching this week, probably. This feels like a spy movie. Operation Madama Butterfly.)
There is an insistent job ad running on the trolleybus screens for workers at a mannequin factory. We need you! Come and work for us! Students too! Competitive salaries!
There are black faux-Christmas-trees on sale at the supermarkets, along with black decorations and black tinsel. Right beside them on display are hard glistening polar bears.
There are about 600,000 people living here, most of whom are extremely weird. Every home, every car, every child, every dog, every item is totally random. I love this place.