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.