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.