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.