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.