#,#,,,,##, ,#,,,,,#,#
#,,#,,,### ,,#,,,,,,#
##,,#,,#,# ,,,#,,,,,#
,##,,#,,,# ,,,,#,,,,#
,###,,#,,# #,,,,#,,,,
,#,##,,#,, ,#,,,,#,,,
,,,###,,#, 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. ,,,,,,###,
,,,#,,,,,, ,,,,,,#,##
#,,,#,,,,, ,,,,,,,,##
##,,,#,,,, ,,,,,,,,#,
###,,,#,,, #,,,,,,,,,
#,##,,,#,, ##,,,,,,,,