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.