dream palace              
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 not actually a  palace. a cottage in the 
   woods (temperate climate, rains every  
 other  day,   springs  and  streams  and 
   mysterious iron and stone artifacts,   
     birdland-ish eternal spring (late    
                 spring))                 
                                          
                                         
                                          
 i wake up every morning at six  am. it's 
 dark,  and the  stars are out,  but  the 
 sun is about  to  rise. its a long  day, 
 before  it fades  to  night  again,  and 
 then it  stays  so until  i fall asleep. 
 it  doesn't  rise  unless  i've  had  my 
                  dreams.                 
                                          
                                         
                                          
 in this cottage there's  a lot  of radio 
   equipment, sound stuff, synths, tape   
 players. pen  and paper, books, cameras, 
 mirrors,  prisms, and various things  to 
 do art with. the fridge is  filled  with 
 differet foods, all of them  intriguing, 
              slightly weird.             
                                          
                                         
                                          
 i have friends - there's  a  cat,  and a 
 dog   (who  is  ridicolously  large  and 
 wants to be the big  spoon). i listen to 
 the shortwave  radio, and transmit a bit 
 myself,  songs  and  poetry,  and  found 
 sounds from the forest. the  others tell 
 of their lives, play the  guitar for me, 
 and  tell  tales  of  the  old  world. i 
      consider them friends as well.      
                                          
                                         
                                          
 most importantly,  there's  a two square 
 meter  area on  the  floor where  i  can 
 "save" things.  whatever  i put in  here 
 will  not  be  affected  by the  nightly 
   reset. everything else, however, is    
     completely reset overnight: synth    
   patches removed, food uneaten, wounds  
 healed,  and  wherever  and whenever i'd 
 fall asleep  i'd  always  wake up  fully 
 rested  in  my  bed.  sometimes  there's 
 accidents   where   i  lose   stuff   by 
 forgetting to  put  them in  the square. 
                                          
                                         
                                          
 at  night,  i   have  demi-lucid  dreams 
 where the  spirits of the forest  around 
 the cottage tries to  communicate. here, 
 it's  not endless  but  connected  to  a 
 large sprawling  city,  where  my  radio 
 friends  live. we go  exploring together 
 - things are deep and dark - but  unlike 
 me, they never remember  during the day. 
 this is  a  mystery  we  often  discuss.