.¤.¤¤¤¤¤.¤ ¤..¤¤¤..¤.
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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. ¤.¤..¤..¤.
¤¤.¤.¤.¤.¤ ¤.¤.¤¤.¤¤.
.¤.¤.¤.¤.¤ ¤.¤..¤..¤.
¤¤.¤.¤.¤.¤ ¤.¤.¤¤.¤¤.
.¤.¤.¤.¤.¤ ¤.¤..¤..¤.
¤¤.¤.¤.¤.¤ ¤.¤.¤¤.¤¤.