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.