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.