@@@,,,,@,, ,@,,@,,@@,
@,@@,,,,@, ,,@,,@,@@,
,,@@@,,,,@ ,,,@,,,@@,
,,@,@@,,,, ,,,,@,,@@@
@,,,@@@,,, ,,,,,@,@,@
@@,,@,@@,, @,,,,,,,,@
,@@,,,@@@, 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. ,,,,,@,,,,
,@,,@,,,,, ,,,,,,@,,,
,,@,,@,,,, ,,,,,,,@,,
,,,@,,@,,, ,,,,,,,,@,
,,,,@,,@,, @,,,,,,,,@
@,,,,@,,@, ,@,,,,,,,,