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.