Intention and causality

I was walking around with Thanh and we were looking for his car, which was a black Lexus LS. He actually drives a Honda Civic, I think. But a black Lexus LS suits him so much better.

We were on the sidewalk, walking and chatting, when Thanh turned and looked up at the second floor of a parking garage, squinted his eyes, and proclaimed, “This is it.”

In the parking garage, things were a little confused. Many, many people were running about and Thanh passed by a Lexus (it was purple, not black) and ran to a motorcycle covered with a tarp. He pulled the cover off and started obsessing over the bike and I moved on up to the next level, looking for his car.

Next thing I knew, I was in a snowstorm and the world was a bleak landscape of the soft theft of form that comes with thick snowfall. And I had to get out of there.

Thanh came running up from behind, blurting as he passed, “You’ve got to dig! Dig here, get some shelter, I’ll be back!” and he was quickly swallowed by the thick, blowing snow, and the fuzzy gray that accompanies it.

I dug. I dug and I dug, using my hands to dig into the snow, digging with two hands and throwing the snow between my legs, shooting it behind me, frantic to get some cover. My hands were freezing and the snow was caking my hair and the snot was crusting on my nostrils. I was making no progress; the more I dug, the less I was able to do, as if I’d reached some metaphysical barrier where I needed exponential amounts of energy to win diminishing gains.

Then I found it. A car. An old, red-orange Datsun buried in the snow drift. I cleared the snow enough to get in through the sunroof when Thanh finally showed back up. “What the fuck are you doing? Just turn the goddamn key!” This wasn’t Thanh’s style – he doesn’t swear like that and he’s not verbally abusive. I furrowed my brow, squinted my left eye and looked at him. He gave me an exasperated eye roll, reached in, turned the key himself, and that baby fired up like a dream.

And launched itself down a steep hill, crashing at the bottom, launching us both off of it, onto the ground beyond.

The place where we were was warm and sunny, but strange. All I knew was that we had just escaped the apocalypse and we were amped up and ready to help out the world. Thanh went back to inspect the wreckage when a giant woman of about 8 feet approached me with a mechanical smile. She was unattractive, very heavy, and slightly Downs Syndromish in her appearance. I was afraid of this new, post-apocalyptic world, so I swung a toaster at her head and hit her in the ear. She was unfazed but turned around and approached Thanh, who seemed genuinely uninterested and went back to whatever he was doing.

I was afraid of the pending cold, so I searched through a stash of blankets that the robo-she-giant had in a cupboard, and took a couple that might be of help to me. Two small people were watching from the left, one was an elderly male with huge eyes transfixed on my every action, eyes darting from my hands to my face like a small mammal watching its food but keeping a keen eye out for predators.

The hill and the car were gone now, replaced by a gated shaft near the ceiling of this home to dwarves and giants, and we had to climb on various furnishings to get back up to it.

We were now convinced that the shaft was a portal back to our home world and we NEEDED to get back because THIS was the apocalypse, not what we had left.

There were gloves and small shovels at the gate, and, bemused, I wondered why I hadn’t seen them earlier when I was digging in the snow. Thanh and I began to formulate a plan….

Then I woke up. Interestingly, all the things in this dream are explainable as manifestations (though absurdly manifested) of things that had happened to me in the past couple of days. I don’t normally explain my dreams in my notes (I prefer for them to remain meaningful to me, cryptic to you), but I’ll indulge the gentle reader:

Thanh: I’d seen his profile picture update that day. Motorcycle obsessing: I’ve been doing that over scooters. Strange weather: spoke with someone in Oregon who was saying how they’ve been having strange weather shifts lately. Giant woman: Cate’s friend, who’s very tall, was visiting last week. Hitting her ear: I didn’t have a good grip on my tiller and pulled the cord and the handle came slamming into my ear, cutting it. Blankets: we changed the bedding on Angus’ bed and he had only a sheet because his blanket was in the dryer. Small shovels: I started my garden and the trowels (small shovels) were in the garden bed still. Gloves: got Angus some gardening gloves so he could help me in the garden (he always wants to wear the full-sized adult gloves). False apocalypse: I don’t think the economy is as bad as a lot of people predicted.