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.