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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 .,,,,,,,,,
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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. %^~.,,,,,,
,,,,,.~^%¤ ¤%^~.,,,,,
,,,,.~^%¤§ 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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