,^~/%%#¶@@ @@¶#%%/~^,
,^~/%%#¶@# #@¶#%%/~^,
,,,,,~/%## ##%/~,,,,,
,^~/%%#¶@# #@¶#%%/~^,
,,,,~~~%%¶ ¶%%~~~,,,,
,,,,,~~%%# #%%~~,,,,,
,^~/%%#¶## 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. ¶¶%%%%/~^,
,^~/%%#¶## ##¶#%%/~^,
,,,^~%%#¶¶ ¶¶#%%~^,,,
,^~~~~/%¶¶ ¶¶%/~~~~^,
,^~/%%#¶@# #@¶#%%/~^,
,,,,,^^~%# #%~^^,,,,,