,,,--;;§%# #%§;;--,,,
,,-;§%#¶## ##¶#%§;-,,
,,-;§%#¶## ##¶#%§;-,,
,,,,;§%%%# #%%%§;,,,,
,,-;§%%%%# #%%%%§;-,,
,,,,,;§%%# #%%§;,,,,,
,,-;§%#¶## 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. ¶#%§§;-,,,
,,---;%%¶# #¶%%;---,,
,,,,,-;%## ##%;-,,,,,
,,,,,,-;§# #§;-,,,,,,
,,-;§%#¶## ##¶#%§;-,,
,,-;§%#### ####%§;-,,