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.