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.