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.