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.