,^~=*§#@## ##@#§*=~^,
,,,,,^~=§# #§=~^,,,,,
,^~=*#@### ###@#*=~^,
,^~=*§#@## ##@#§*=~^,
,^~=*§#@## ##@#§*=~^,
,^~=*§#@## ##@#§*=~^,
,^^^^~=*## 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. #*~~,,,,,,
,^~=*§##@# #@##§*=~^,
,^~=*§#@## ##@#§*=~^,
,^~=*§#@## ##@#§*=~^,
,^~=*§#@## ##@#§*=~^,
,^~=**§§§# #§§§**=~^,