i dreamt that i was rolling up a joint, and it was going surprisingly well, but somehow my thumb got caught on the Rizla, and as i dropped my hand, it ripped in half. the tobacco deposited itself in a weedy cowpat inbetween my knees. i swore, and wondered how i could clean up such a mess, when the tobacco caught my attention. it had never quite stopped moving since i dropped it, and all of a sudden i realised that this was because it was alive with insects, which had emerged from the pestilent brown pile, and were crawling everywhere. repulsed, i jumped up and tried to brush them off, but their numbers were so great that i was unable to, and i could feel them writhing up me. and all this time more and more lice were pulling themselves from the nest, and moving on to accommodate the ranks behind.