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.