and the bird won’t sing

the end has begun. once again.
the conclusion of a circle (which, essentially has no tail).
closing up while actually making born of some(other)thing.
(can we really call it the end, then?)
anyway they say it is the time to reflect. isn’t it?
since contemplating is not my cup of tea,
let’s just skim through my note/sketch-book
which i have filled out during two thousand and eleven

(will post it gradually, and not in sequential order)

1
| 2 0 1 1 . pen . orient
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