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.