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#@¶§$%\~:, ,:~\%$§¶@#
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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. ,,,,,,,,:~
\~:,,,,,,, ,,,,,,,:~\
%\~:,,,,,, 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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