So, just woke up from a dream about 15 minutes ago, where my life had been played out like a pilot of a particularly fast, unstable jet; wherein, I was wholly unprepared to deal with pulling the massive G's required to manuever. Nevertheless, I clung to the joystick of the jet in some vain attempt at control.
If that's not a metaphor for life, I'm not sure what is.
The entire dream sequence was set to this, J.S. Bach's "Tocatta and Fugue in D Minor".
Somehow, I think that Stanley Kubrick would have been pleased.