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.