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.