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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 ,-=^%£££@#
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£££%^=-,,, Are We Just Stacked Triangles? There Is ,,,-=^%£££
££%^=-,,,, Nothing I Can Do With Triangles. They ,,,,-=^%££
£%^=-,,,,, Can Not Shelter Me In Any Meaningful ,,,,,-=^%£
%^=-,,,,,, Sense. ,,,,,,-=^%
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%^=-,,,,,, 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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