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.