£@@@$%*-., ,.-*%$@@@£
#@%%*.,,,, ,,,,.*%%@#
££$%-..,,, ,,,..-%$££
##£@$%*-., ,.-*%$@£##
#@$%%-.,,, ,,,.-%%$@#
£@%*.,,,,, ,,,,,.*%@£
##£@$%*-., now, usually i feel good (maybe?), but ,.-*%$@£##
###@$%*-., this time of confusion also leads to ,.-*%$@###
##£@$%*-., all analyzes ending in "useless" - i ,.-*%$@£##
###£@$*-., was being bothered by something in a ,.-*$@£###
#@$%--..,, song or movie or book, so i think, how ,,..--%$@#
##£@$%*-., would i have done it, what is the ,.-*%$@£##
£@@@$%*-., purpose of this process, what does it ,.-*%$@@@£
##£@$%*-., consist of...? and through the process ,.-*%$@£##
@$%**-.,,, more and more pieces falls off until ,,,.-**%$@
##£@$%*-., i'm standing there with nothing. ,.-*%$@£##
£$**-.,,,, ,,,,.-**$£
#££@$%*-., reductionist hell - ,.-*%$@££#
@@$%-.,,,, i wan't a bottom floor, a concept ,,,,.-%$@@
@%%%-.,,,, 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 ,,,.---%%@
£@$***-.., feels like it can all slip through my ,..-***$@£
@@@@$%*-., fingers... "whoops", and nothing ever ,.-*%$@@@@
£@@$*-..,, was after that. ,,..-*$@@£
£@@@$%*-., ,.-*%$@@@£
##£@$%*-., ,.-*%$@£##
##£@$%*-., ,.-*%$@£##
#£$%---.., ,..---%$£#
##£@$%*-., ,.-*%$@£##