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.