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.