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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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