..:~:†%#¶# #¶#%†:~:.. .:~:†%#¶## ##¶#%†:~:. ..:~:†%#¶# #¶#%†:~:.. ...:~:†%#¶ ¶#%†:~:... ..:~:†%#¶# #¶#%†:~:.. .:~:†%#¶## ##¶#%†:~:. ..:~:†%#¶# 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. #¶#%†:~:.. .:~:†%#¶## ##¶#%†:~:. ..:~:†%#¶# #¶#%†:~:.. ...:~:†%#¶ ¶#%†:~:... ..:~:†%#¶# #¶#%†:~:.. .:~:†%#¶## ##¶#%†:~:.