,,,,,,~/@@ @@/~,,,,,,
,~-/§@@### ###@@§/-~,
,,,,,--§@# #@§--,,,,,
,,,~///§@# #@§///~,,,
,~-/§@@### ###@@§/-~,
,~-/§@#### ####@§/-~,
,~-/§@#### 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. ###@@§/-~,
,~-/§@@### ###@@§/-~,
,,,,~-§@@@ @@@§-~,,,,
,~-/§@@### ###@@§/-~,
,~-/§@@### ###@@§/-~,
,~-/§@@### ###@@§/-~,