#@#§§*:-^, ,^-:*§§#@#
##@§§*:-^, ,^-:*§§@##
#@#§§*:-^, ,^-:*§§#@#
#@#§§*:-^, ,^-:*§§#@#
§§§***:-^, ,^-:***§§§
§**:-^^,,, ,,,^^-:**§
#§§§§*:-^, 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. ,^-:*§§#@@
##@#§*:-^, ,^-:*§#@##
@§§§§*:-^, ,^-:*§§§§@
###§§*:-^, ,^-:*§§###
@§§*----^, ,^----*§§@
@@#§§*:-^, ,^-:*§§#@@