#¶#%†=«.,, ,,.«=†%#¶#
¶#%†=«.,,, ,,,.«=†%#¶
#%†=«.,,,, ,,,,.«=†%#
%†=«.,,,,, ,,,,,.«=†%
†=«.,,,,,, ,,,,,,.«=†
=«.,,,,,,, ,,,,,,,.«=
†=«.,,,,,, now, usually i feel good (maybe?), but ,,,,,,.«=†
%†=«.,,,,, this time of confusion also leads to ,,,,,.«=†%
#%†=«.,,,, all analyzes ending in "useless" - i ,,,,.«=†%#
¶#%†=«.,,, was being bothered by something in a ,,,.«=†%#¶
#¶#%†=«.,, song or movie or book, so i think, how ,,.«=†%#¶#
##¶#%†=«., would i have done it, what is the ,.«=†%#¶##
#¶#%†=«.,, purpose of this process, what does it ,,.«=†%#¶#
¶#%†=«.,,, consist of...? and through the process ,,,.«=†%#¶
#%†=«.,,,, more and more pieces falls off until ,,,,.«=†%#
%†=«.,,,,, i'm standing there with nothing. ,,,,,.«=†%
†=«.,,,,,, ,,,,,,.«=†
=«.,,,,,,, reductionist hell - ,,,,,,,.«=
†=«.,,,,,, i wan't a bottom floor, a concept ,,,,,,.«=†
%†=«.,,,,, bedrock, but the deeper i go the more ,,,,,.«=†%
#%†=«.,,,, abstract they are, the things, until ,,,,.«=†%#
¶#%†=«.,,, they cease to be things at all ,,,.«=†%#¶
#¶#%†=«.,, ,,.«=†%#¶#
##¶#%†=«., are we just stacked triangles? there is ,.«=†%#¶##
#¶#%†=«.,, nothing i can do with triangles. they ,,.«=†%#¶#
¶#%†=«.,,, can not shelter me in any meaningful ,,,.«=†%#¶
#%†=«.,,,, sense. ,,,,.«=†%#
%†=«.,,,,, ,,,,,.«=†%
†=«.,,,,,, and when i can't even anchor myself, ,,,,,,.«=†
=«.,,,,,,, when i am nothing but the question, it ,,,,,,,.«=
†=«.,,,,,, feels like it can all slip through my ,,,,,,.«=†
%†=«.,,,,, fingers... "whoops", and nothing ever ,,,,,.«=†%
#%†=«.,,,, was after that. ,,,,.«=†%#
¶#%†=«.,,, ,,,.«=†%#¶
#¶#%†=«.,, ,,.«=†%#¶#
##¶#%†=«., ,.«=†%#¶##
#¶#%†=«.,, ,,.«=†%#¶#
¶#%†=«.,,, ,,,.«=†%#¶