How does the shown object point to a better world?

The photo shows a per­form­ance of the rock band Toco­tron­ic in 2019 at the Donauin­selfest in Vienna. It is pleas­antly warm, only a light breeze provides a little — wel­come — refresh­ment. Around me: many unknown people and some friends (some people I haven’t seen for a long time). Those present come close to each oth­er: they greet each oth­er joy­fully, hug each oth­er heart­ily, well vien­nese, many kisses are spread on the cheeks of many people, crowded people are wait­ing at the bars to get a cool drink. Everything seems and feels dis­tant — without dis­tance to the oth­ers, without dis­tance to one­self. At the moment. I’m as happy as a little child when the band starts a song of their debut album: “Last year in sum­mer”. Dirk (I don’t know him per­son­ally, and yet he accom­pan­ied me for many years) sings: “Every day I go to the bath­room and wash myself, every day I pour cold water on my face. It’s clear that noth­ing hap­pens overnight, but at some point I had less wor­ries, for example last year in sum­mer. I am happy.

This is how I imagine a better world:

My uto­pia is not ori­ented towards the com­mon good in the nar­row sense. It does not aim (dir­ectly) at the big pic­ture, a bet­ter world. It is deeply per­son­al, per­haps even, I think, in a cer­tain sense, selfish and elit­ist. It is also not too ‘uto­pi­an uto­pia’, but com­par­at­ively real­ist­ic — at least for me. It refers back to a moment that could take place again in a sim­il­ar form in the near future. And yet there is some­thing gen­er­al about it: moments without dis­tance.

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