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.