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.