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**;-^,,,,, 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. ,,,,^-;**§
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@@§**;-^,, 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. ,,,^-;**§@
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