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.