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.