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@&@††-.,,, 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. ,,,.-††@&@
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##@&@††-., 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 ,,,.-††@&@
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#@&@††-.,, Nothing I Can Do With Triangles. They ,,.-††@&@#
@&@††-.,,, Can Not Shelter Me In Any Meaningful ,,,.-††@&@
&@††-.,,,, Sense. ,,,,.-††@&
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#@&@††-.,, And When I Can'T Even Anchor Myself, ,,.-††@&@#
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#@&@††-.,, Feels Like It Can All Slip Through My ,,.-††@&@#
@&@††-.,,, Fingers... "Whoops", And Nothing Ever ,,,.-††@&@
&@††-.,,,, Was After That. ,,,,.-††@&
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