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.