As I moved up the subway stairs this morning, trudging through along with the tired, weary masses, I was overcome by the feeling that we are the giant sandworms of the Planet Arrakis. The Shai-Hulud, if you will. And I was Paul Atreides. I just needed my maker hooks to snare the beast and ride it through the wasteland. All those bodies, moving in rolling unison, like the segmented corpus of the spice-making sandworm. We are all connected through this ecosystem, all tied to the melange, the spice.
And then I remembered that I had smoked meth with my cereal.