,,,«*=£#@# #@#£=*«,,,
,,,,«*=£#@ @#£=*«,,,,
,,,,,«*=£# #£=*«,,,,,
,,,,,,«*=£ £=*«,,,,,,
,,,,,,,«*= =*«,,,,,,,
,,,,,,«*=£ £=*«,,,,,,
,,,,,«*=£# 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. #£=*«,,,,,
,,,,,,«*=£ £=*«,,,,,,
,,,,,,,«*= =*«,,,,,,,
,,,,,,«*=£ £=*«,,,,,,
,,,,,«*=£# #£=*«,,,,,
,,,,«*=£#@ @#£=*«,,,,