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.