Requested by biz

WHAT I LOVE ABOUT STRANGERS

@biz you are a great list requester, and I'm feeling guilty for never reciprocating. You're amazing. Also, I love strangers (train inspired strangers).
  1. Their potential.
    There's so much that can be unlocked. There is so much that can be. Strangers are the keys to unlocking doors we didn't want to open, doors we didn't know we needed, and doors we shouldn't have opened in the first place.
  2. Their silence.
    Sitting on the morning train towards the city, and the way we all silently share very close personal space with one another, is beautiful. The way we choose to respect one another in a contract we've all unknowingly signed.
  3. Their story.
    Every stranger has a story, one thing I have always been acutely aware of. The man asking for 40 cents has a story. The businessman standing up straight has a story. The teenager blasting music on his BEATS headphones has a story. There is so much we don't know about one another, and yet in the moment, we're all on the same page.
  4. Their stance.
    The women with her bags wrapped around her body. The man with his arms crossed, checking his watch. The student rocking back and forth on their heels. The mother always ready for action, her son pulling on her hand.
  5. Their kindness.
    The ones who ask to have a seat next to you. The ones who wake you to ask if this is your stop. The ones who pick up something that's slipped out your pockets. The ones who leave their change in the tip jar. The ones who don't smile back.
  6. Their hesitance.
    There is always whispering on the train. We're all so scared to make noise and be disruptive, that we whisper (that silent contract we all unknowingly signed). There's fear of getting the disapproval of each and every stranger in the train cart, and that's what I love about the hesitance of those whispering.
  7. Their nonchalance.
    There are the ones who are loud, and we all let them be. Who are we to tell someone they can't sing to themselves, they can't talk to themselves, they can't talk? We, as a collective group of strangers, let another stranger, be.