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.