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.