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.