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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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£,£,£,£,£, ££,£,££,£,