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.