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June 21, 2003

Two birds were having a strange dialogue before sunrise. They were telling each other the same two stories, again and again and again and again. The stories had nothing to do with each other, perhaps. But maybe they were looking for their continuations? Maybe they were the beginnings of stories that waited for the next, missing part. Andno bird was there to tell it. Two storytellers who spent an entire morning looking for what is next in their stories.
And there was nobody to continue, nobody to reply, nobody to comment...
I know, an overly romantic view at things. What sounds like a birds song to me is probably more of a "My left foot hurts and I am hungry", or "Get off my tree or I will pick you so hard, you won't be able to fly," or maybe "Hey ladies, look at me, I can build the finest nest and have the loudest voice and largest wingspan."
Hmm... pretty much like blogging, isn't it?...

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